Life is beginning to settle down here, at least as far as my primary needs are concerned. Now that I have found a job in a hostal and a temporary room in one as well, I decided that a weekend trip to Italy was much deserved. A vacation from the vacation. Will's uncle owns a house, no, nice house, no, big nice house, no, fucking dream italian villa in the countryside overlooking a valley. Needless to say, we weren't used living like royalty and did as much as we could to savor the experience.

From the airport in Ancona, we rented a car and drove to the quaint lil city of monte san martino. Just the car ride itself was pleasurable, but throw in some nice countryside, italian radio, and an escape from the dreaded barcelona (not really), and our trip was off to a swell start (yeah i said swell). After first feeling like participants of the Real World in our mansion, the joys of Italy would slowly matriculate forth. Back to the Real World reference, here is an excerpt from every 1st episode/us:
--Oh My God (think valley girl though)
--No Fuckin' Way
--Whaaaaaaaaaa
--the kitchen is bigger than my room
--the couch is bigger than my room
--holy shit, there's cold beer in the fridge, chips, peanuts, water, any other food staples im forgetting? And they even have french bread!
--Yeah, just counted....sleeps 15. Never should have told the spanish models that there wasnt room.
--They probably would have hogged the sheets anyway, who needs them.
--Soooooo, beer, chips, balcony view of countryside?
--Obviously
--Wait, so apparently we've seen like half the house.
--I'll take these 7 beds, the living room and the half of the kitchen with the fridge and you can have the rest of the beds, dining room and well share the balcony.

rambling:check

--did you eat all my peanut butter? Who ate the fucking peanut butter? Can it eat itself? Admit you ate the last of the peanut butter and suffer the consequences of my wrath.

Anyyyyywho....This insanely nice house in a ridiculously scenic region of italy gave me the feeling of 'Im not worthy' Why should I be able to experience this. What did i do to deserve this. It is that dream Italian villa that we all, or at least should, desire. For 3 nights and 2 days we lived like kings. Ate 'expensive' 10 course meals, drank beer and wine, explored the countryside, watched DVD´s and slept in monstrous beds in complete silence and darkness. My only regret being not enough gelato and too much time spent about how much I dont want to leave.

Best Moments:
1-Seeing the house upon arrival
2-drinking beer on the balcony con vista bellisima
3-driving through tiny cobble stoned streets en route to and fro house
4-Dinners out where people loved to feed us
5-couch time

There never is a perfect place in which all your wildest fantasies come true. B.S., I know. Our trip to Italy made me realize that as much as I like Barcelona, there are a limitless number of cities that on a given day and time may please me more. This is not to take anything away from Barca, however. You know you live in a good place when despite the normal yearnings for a place just left behind, when the plan lands, your glad to be home. I am glad to call barca my home. What was previously a wild dream, then became an imminent reality, then became a chaotic storm, and now has settled to a manageable wildfire (the kind where some trees are burning, some more prolly will, no houses or businesses in the area, but enough to talk about it on the news). So that is where im at-home (for now).