I Have Pretty Much The Best Day Ever

When I picked up the coming mother and sister from Fiumincino airport on Friday, they had been traveling for twelve hours, from noon on Thursday to seven on Friday; no, this wasn't a LOST-typical exercise in time travel, but simply an exchange of zones. To them, it was past bedtime. To me, it was a little before the alarm to get up.

I took them back to the apartment I had rented for the express purpose of housing all the Roman Trumbos, and they immediately fell asleep. So much for seeing my mother.

That Friday was a wish wash, a throwaway day given to the demands of jet lag. The pretty much best day ever came Saturday.

Best shopping, best dinner, best television show in the history of the earth, and I don't mean the planet, but the substance, as in, as long as there has been dirt, LOST has been the absolute pinnacle of entertainment.

Shopping: I took them to H&M, and allotted them several hours of wandering. I have to say, I am incredibly indebted to H&M, for it has given me a new identity. I often think about how accessible identities are here: I just went to the mall and chose a store. I can only hope that when I come back to Fayetteville, my friends will recognize me not wearing sweatpants.

Dinner: The best restaurant I have found yet is Ai Spaghettari; they claim to be founded since 1896, but I say even longer. Their food is timeless, although I suppose it gets cold after being left untouched for a stretch. We had the finest meats and cheeses, or rather bread and pasta, due to the heavy emphasis that the Italians put on carbohydrates. My mother called it carb loading. Apparently, the way I eat nightly is the same way to prepare for a marathon, so tomorrow, I might go running.

Television Show: LOST. See previous post.

Living in Rome is more than most people can ask, but having my mother and sister here fills a social and emotional void - but those are big words that I use very carelessly. Many times I wish I had someone to share all the old things with, and this visit gives me someone to share them with. Two people, neon southern ladies who stand out, especially in a city where everyone wears black and I try my best to blend in. There's something serene and exotic about being in a place where no one knows your name, but having at least one or two who do makes that place more enjoyable.

And quick kudos to my father, who, though not here, has made his presence felt, albeit unintentionally: he has paid for all clothes and meals, and has provided most of the conversation, which revolves around his character quirks and Dickensian defining quotes. The founder of the feast indeed! as Miss Piggy said.