May have overreacted.

I have found my missing articles of clothing.

They were, in order of discovery:

1. Outside in my fake courtyard
2. Under a pillow on a chair in my bedroom

Actually I still have a shirt missing, so find it or I will steal your most favoritest shirt. An eye for an eye, stronza.

I'm allowed to swear in Italian because no one knows what it means except Italians and the only ones that frequent my blog can't read. They get here accidentally. They must.

Oh, do you like my blargh's new look? Isn't being self-deprecating so funny and endearing and not at all me fishing for compliments? In my defense, the only anonymous comment left on my blog thus far has been this gem: "F**k" In Anonymous' defense, they were probably my one reader from the Philippines and their American exchange student told them that the word "f**k" means "amazing."  Hi!!! I have some friends who teach English!!! Their names are YOUR and MOM.

Oh I took my dreaded exam.

The culmination to it was tortuous. I want to apologize to all of my Facebook friends. As we much discussed hours later, that darn Facebook is just so much more fun when you're not supposed to be on it. And that right there, is as rebellious as I get. There I was, at 5 a.m. the morning of my esame orale, staring at my profile page and hitting refresh. Second. After second. After second. (What was I expecting? Looking at my Facebook profile, even during high-traffic Facebook hours, the only friend I ever really seem to have is ME). Then I would look guiltily-but-not-enough-to-actually-study-them at my notes (which I didn't even get tested on. In America, we usually get lists of what we're getting tested on. It's so nice of the professor to communicate so well with his or her students. Using the INTERNET. Remember the INTERNET? No, not just FAYZBUK and YUTUBUH, but the INTERNET. Universities use them now too ---- I KNOW). Refresh. Refresh. Take a 40-minute (2-hour nap). Refresh. Refresh. Look at my clock. It's 7 a.m. Exam in 2 hours. "Hm, page 1 of 200...I will now memorize all of this by reading it once."

Put on the Coca-Cola sweater I wore to my exam. I then had to wait for 3 hours and watch my fellow classmates that I'd never seen before take their exam. All that so I could get asked 3 questions in 7 minutes before my professors tried to hurriedly shuffle the visibly nervous, sweaty American out of their sight forever. Where the hell is my privacy, Italy?

In America, when we take exams, we stand up folders around our papers so our sneaky bitch neighbor leaning their head slightly in my direction as they "yawn" can't copy our answers. Or if that sneaky bitch is your best friend, you give them the answer and then they get it right and you get it wrong. Or I'll get a pink exam and Sneaky Sammy will get a blue exam and then I'm they're really screwed. And our exams are real. With a paper. And pencils. And real questions. Not fake questions like, "Tell me about this book."

I'm only bitter because it was actually difficult. I'm fairly comfortable with Italian, and admittedly, the words that came out of my mouth that my brain thought were actual sentences were highly elementary. I think I made eye contact maybe once. Compared to other students, whose enthusiastic speeches were just waves and waves of informations. Their spittle was knowledgeable. I hope to be better prepared mentally next time, now that I know (sort of) what to expect. Every professor is different...

BOTTOM LINE: THERE IS NO STRUCTURE IN THIS SYSTEM.

Real bottom line, I got a 26. That's an A+ in American, for whoever wants to know or compare or judge.

All jealous, compliment-ridden feedback along the lines of "You're my American idol" would be much obliged.

I also would not turn down a donation of any amount. Scratch that, I will not accept Euro coins under €1 in value. Expect me to promptly shove them in your eyeballs.