Liz Lemon once said: "I spent my junior year abroad in Frankfurt! I partied so hard over there, it was crazy..." And then they show this flashback:
I just remembered something I haven't written about yet. I SAW THE INTER BUS. If you don't know what FC Internazionale Milano is, a) good for you, b) shame on you. Inter is the reigning champion in Italy's Serie A, which is their top football league. Or sorry: calcio. There's also Serie B, Lega Pro Prima Divisione and Lega Pro Seconda Divisione, Serie D, etc. etc. Basically, the last three teams point-wise at the end of a season are relegated to the next lowest division for the upcoming season. It works like that everywhere. Where was I going with this? Oh, I was explaining Inter. Well, Inter won Serie A last year, and the Champions League. They're one of the biggest, most important squads in Italy (and Europe), along with AC Milan (their town rivals. The red team), Roma and Juve. If I had to name the four biggest. So they're a pretty big deal. Bologna is in Serie A (I don't watch their games, but thank Jesus they're in Serie A) because, at some point this season, all of the teams in Serie A will be in. this. city. Whether Maried gets to see them live is a completely different story, considering she will be spending her time and energy into getting to Madrid at some point this year, but I do get to be a crazy cliche fan and stalk their team buses. Which is what I did when Inter was in town.
They were here to play the first league game last Saturday, I believe, against Bologna, and were staying at a posh hotel on via dell'Indipendenza, one of the busiest streets in Bologna. It was a clusterfuck. We had noticed a crowd when we were on the street earlier that day, we wondered what they were waiting for in front of the hotel, but it was just maybe 20 people gathered staring at this fucking wall, basically. A few hours later, it was chaotic. The cops and carabinieri were everywhere, there was basically a roadblock (people were getting angry) and there were huge crowds of people on both sides of the street, and the people on the opposite side of the street from the hotel/where the bus was parked were all trying to get onto the other side, to no avail. And then there were the people who didn't give a fuck and were just angry about the crowd. I don't know why I almost had a panic attack upon figuring out what all the fuss was about. I hate Inter. I hate it. Last year, I tolerated it because a) they were up against Barcelona for many games in the Champions League, and b) Jose Mourinho. If situation A were to come up again, I wouldn't change my behavior. But situation B is now rendered impossible because Jose Mourinho sorta kinda coaches Real Madrid. All is right with the world!!!
Once I regained my composure and remembered that the only allowable emotions with regards to this club are 1. utter disdain (no number 2), and after I snapped 900 pictures with Julia's camera, I was like, "Okay, let's get the fuck out of here, I hate this team." And that was my story. I didn't actually see any players, but I think I saw the bus driver. That's closer than most of you bitches will EVER get.
Let me say something real quick about my life the past couple of days: I am this close to moving into this hotel and dealing with these a-holes until June. (P.S. the people who work at this hotel are incredibly rude. Italians do not know the meaning of customer service. It must've been about 9:55AM yesterday when we got back from the post office. We figured, since breakfast technically isn't over until 10:00AM, it wouldn't be a problem if we grabbed a cup of water or got one last cup of coffee. It was a problem for Hotel Holiday's own Professor Umbridge. She literally (since the beverage table is essentially a closet in our super posh lobby) slammed the door closed on a girl's hand as she was reaching for the water bottle. And then started yelling at us Italian. No, bitch didn't even have the cojones to yell at us, she just yelled while she quickly tried to close up the breakfast area. If breakfast goes until 10:00AM, why are you cleaning up starting at 9:45AM? This argument is stupid. But once I get the hell out of here, I'm writing a strongly-worded entry on TripAdvisor and I am defaming aaaalllll of these bitches). If Danielle and Andrea don't like that, they can suck it and find me a place to live.
So the pizza party was last night. It was boppin'. We got there like 10 minutes late and there were about 300 empty boxes of pizza and some cold pieces. Fatties. The BCSP intern, Marta (who has the most perfect hair, I will take a creeper pic), invited a few of her hippie friends and there were also some other bros promoting some international/cultural/whateveral organizations. I have this problem where I put my e-mail address anywhere if anyone asks me to. For mailings lists and whatnot. I just can't say no and I'm not sharp enough to put a fake e-mail down. That's why I get endless online coupons from Express.
Sometimes I have these moments when I'm like, "Oh, yeah, I'm in Italy, whoops." I'll get in a daze and think I'm in America for mere seconds and then I'll hear someone blaboobering in Italian downstairs and then be like, "EFF." The past couple of days have definitely been the most difficult so far, and the stress has made me really miss home. Yesterday while I was looking at an apartment (the landlady had scheduled about 30 other people to come see the apartment at the same time, I was about to shoot her. Not to mention, she was smoking in my face and her shorts were way too small for her and she was loud and looked like a meth addict and I'll stop judging her now) we saw another person there who brought her parents with her. While, in a public setting, I was shocked and embarrassed for her, inside, I was sooooo jealous. A) A car would be really convenient. B) My parents would totally make all the decisions for me. LOOK AT ME, I'M INDEPENDENT!!! I feel like, in the scramble, I'll forget something really important that I'm supposed to be paying attention to in terms of like, official apartment business. Whereas my father would inquire upon everything, every nick and tear. He would get invasive. I suppose this is the purpose of us finding the apartments on our own and not through the program. But that doesn't make it any less annoying.
The city is beautiful though. I'm glad I'm here. I miss Walgreens and street signs but I'm glad I'm here. There are no street signs here!!!!! I knew that going in, but you literally have to be on the end of a street to know where the hell you're standing, because there's only this tiny square at the top corner of whatever buildings are on the ends of the street. Granted, after walking eight hundred miles in the past couple of days, plus the 300 miles I walked while I was here before the program start date, I have the city almost memorized, and I've lost 67 pounds. At least the main streets are easy to navigate. I hate maps. I study Google maps. I think maps are incredibly obnoxious and every time I pop one out, I want to shrivel. We're constantly frustrated by Bologna's general road system, since they're not grids. The street will literally turn maybe 10ยบ and BOOM it's a new street name. It's a little chaotic.
Hours Later...
I lost my train of thought!!!!!
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