Ah the sound of roaring skooters reverberating against the walls of the one lane--not neccessarily one way--streets. By the way, Italy doesn't believe in accurate or consistant street signs. And, my itouch doesn't believe in spell check 8/.
Might I add that I got lost in the streets of Brescia (pronounced bray-sha) for 2 hours yesterday before I sacrificed my obnoxious pride and asked for directions... Then, another hour trying to follow very fast, very Italian directions.
Good lord do I hate being so alone at night. I need my best friend or beau to c'mere and rescue me.
OKAY, it's not THAT bad. Oh my sweet baby Jesus the food is divine. So is the marble house I'm living in. Seriously? Is this from a movie?
I still am ready to come on home to my Tennessee hills. I just need to be hugged by someone I know. Not random people who believe it okay kiss my cheeks. My cheeks, Euros; mine!
Ciao, bambino. Baci!
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