gravity don't mean too much to me

My senior year of college, I had a dilemma. I was required, for my scholarship, to be a full-time student with twelve credit hours. The problem was that I only had one required class left to take and it was worth a whole one credit. This meant I had four classes to fill up, four classes I didn't need but would still have to pass in order to graduate. My sophomore year, I had taken Greek Mythology as a random class, so I thought I'd take something else along that line and ended up with History of Rome. I also took a gen-ed class called Eastern European Film in which we watched many movies and talked about communism and its affects on art.

This past week and a half, I relived my last semester of college.

I went to Prague. I don't know who told me or where I heard it, but I've been somehow convinced for years that Prague is a beautiful place. Perhaps it was because people always say that due to WWII and being under Soviet control, it largely escaped the destruction and modernization that other cities took on. Either way, whoever said it was beautiful was right.

Around every corner is a different type of architecture. The houses are brightly colored (and different colors!). It's so different from France where most things are the same color. I mean, the one good thing about the outside of my apartment are the blue shutters that help me know which one it is without looking at the numbers.

Unfortunately, it was very cold when I was in Prague, at one point both snowing and sunny at the same time. That didn't stop me from visiting all the sights, though, including the castle (current home to Czech Republic's president), Charles' Bridge (Prague's oldest bridge), Old Town Square and the Astronomical Clock (one of the oldest in Europe), and Wenceslas Square, sight of the 1989 Velvet Revolution and beginning the disintegration of the communist block. On that note, I also saw the Lennon Wall, a graffitied wall once dedicated to freedom of expression and oppression. Although, a lot of Prague is covered in graffiti these days, ruining some of the otherwise beautiful buildings.

Coming in wintertime does something to Prague. I'm sure it's beautiful in the summer, but winter sort of makes you realize what it really was like during the Cold War. When I think of the cold war, I think grey. I think bleak, cold, lifeless, and there was one moment when I climbed up a hill and came out onto a long street and a house built up on a wall, dead vines trailing down, and I could have sworn I was back in 1989.

One of the films we watched in my Eastern European Film class was Closely Watched Trains about a young man in Czechoslovakia who worked in a train station in the 60s. I won't give away the ending, but let's just say, I took a train and luckily, what happened in the movie didn't happen to me. (Watch the movie, seriously.)

On my last day, I had extra time, so I hopped on a train and went to Kutna Hora to see the famed Bone Church.

Some rich family had a church built and the architect was given free reign. They excavated a cemetery and the church is hung with the many bones of plague victims. There's a bone chandelier, the family's coat of arms, and thousands of bones piled up in the crevices of the church. Pretty interesting place.

After Prague, it was time to head for greener pastures (quite literally).

Rome was blooming beautifully.

The weather did turn slightly sour the day after I got there, though, and it poured an epic amount my last night, soaking me entirely. But there were bouts of sunlight amidst the clouds, enough for me to appreciate just how hot it must be in the summer.

Rome was... amazing. Maybe it's because I am a dork about ancient Rome and Greek histories, but it was so cool to go to the Roman Forum and be standing exactly where Nero and Caesar and other countless emperors had stood and lived and built their temples to Saturn and Venus. I got to go in the House of the Vestal Virgins where women were chosen from affluent families to live and had special privileges, and were basically revered by society. Of course, if any of them ... lost their virgin status, she was buried alive. Her lover was only whipped. So much for special privileges.

Of course, I visited the Colosseum. I mean, it's huge and so awesomely cool. It could fit 50k people in 79 entrances (and get them all in in 15 minutes! that would never happen anywhere nowadays) and at the height of its popularity, they were killing 5k animals a day. They nearly made the lion and African elephant go extinct.

And the great thing about all of this, is that I already knew most of it. In fact, I know probably much more than most people do when they go to Rome. I know about the Etruscans, the first Tarquinian rulers, Romulus and Remus and how Romulus killed Remus (Harry Potter uses this in a vague reference in the 7th book in case anyone is paying attention). Of course, Romulus is later murdered by others. Karma, you know? The only thing I don't know so well is the Italian language. I took a semester in college but I'm mostly limited to telling people my name and where I'm from. I remember a few verbs and it's similar enough to French that I understand more than I can speak, but still.

I also stopped by the Vatican Museum (on the last Sunday of the month so entrance was free!) with some of my hostel roomates, a group of French kids from Toulouse, and a fellow American. I saw the Sistine Chapel which is pretty impressive, although the guards are very strict about no photos and keeping the silence. At noon, I went out and saw the pope! He blessed us all for coming and wished me a happy Sunday in four different language!

My favorite place in Rome, though, aside from the Roman Forum (with all the ruins), has got to be the Trevi Fountain. I know, it's cliche, but it really is beautiful.

My pictures do not do it justice.

Oddly enough, this is also the setting for my creepy Rome story! On my last night, I was determined to get pictures of things at night so I went out. Rome is a surprisingly walkable city if you have the time and the shoes for it. Unfortunately, I picked the wrong day. As I said earlier, it was raining. It was pouring. It was torrential. I had no umbrella.

So I walked and got very wet, from my shoes all the way up my thighs, everything, everywhere. I started at the Colosseum, which was closest to my hostel, and made a circle up to the Trevi fountain. On my way to the fountain, already plenty soaked through, a man stepped out of a store and opened an umbrella over me. I said "grazie," and he replied in English, although he was Italian. He started a conversation, asking where I was from, etc, normal stuff, and he walked with me to the fountain. He was about 50+ years old I would say, pretty decent English, and he claimed to have a ferrari (tried to get me to go for a ride in it, in fact). I don't know whether or not he was telling the truth because, luckily, I am not that stupid.

The story ends with him trying very hard to convince me to have a drink with him. All my excuses fell on deaf ears - "Oh, I have to pack." ("But it's early," he said.) "I have to get dry," I said, gesturing at my very wet clothes. ("You have all night. Just one drink?") "I don't want to," I said awkwardly.

The awkward goodbye hug turned into him kissing my neck and murmuring, "I like you, I really like you," and me pushing him away. It was strange because you know those moments where you should be panicking? Like, your pulse should be racing, blood pounding in your ears, and you feel shaky with fear? Well, it didn't come despite the precariousness of the situation. It should have come. But I escaped, he didn't even follow me home, and I lied about a lot of things while talking to him - like where in France I lived. I escaped unscathed, though.

And headed to Toulouse!

The whole reason for Toulouse, aside from seeing more of France, was for My Chemical Romance, as you should know since I've talked about them a lot on here. The unfortunate thing about the concert is that it took place on a Thursday which meant the metro stopped running at midnight, and there were a few moments when I thought I might not make it and I would have to skip out of the concert early, but luckily, there was only one opener, and despite starting half an hour late (thank you, France), it was over just after eleven, giving me barely enough to time to catch the metro.

The concert itself was awesome, as MCR usually is. It was slightly weird going to a concert where most people didn't speak English, and you could tell when Gerard was talking about how the amps are haunted and nobody reacted.

But the show was great, and they played all my favorite songs from all their albums (well, except the first album. They only played one song, which was fine because I don't know that album at all) - Planetary (GO!), Vampire Money, Teenagers, Mama, I'm Not Okay, Famous Last Words. Gerard did a lovely version of Cancer, which is odd because I'm not a big fan of that song. I'm Not Okay always brings me back to 2004-2005 and senior year of high school when I first heard MCR. As much as I hated those last few years, the music always makes it seem better.

They only did one song for the encore, which was a little weird but I guess I can't complain because I really had to leave by then and anymore and I would have had to miss them. No regrets about going to Toulouse. I would do it to see MCR any day.

Toulouse itself is quite a pretty town. Then again, I'm a sucker for fountains and rivers, and really, any kind of water. I blame growing up by the ocean and a creek, which led to the reservoir... Basically, until I moved to Arizona, I'd never been more than a few feet away from a body of water. I especially love rivers and Toulouse has a lovely one.

All in all, a good vacation. Now if only the CAF would get its butt in gear and I could afford to take some more (and maybe even buy a ticket home! hah).