As it had begun, so it kept going. As it had happened on wednesday and thursday, also on friday and sunday the original plans went down the drain and had to be re-arranged on the spot. It's a good thing that in Italy we learn to be flexible and improvise since we are kids, as it came useful today.
After the failed blitz on Florence on thursday, the plan called for a Romanian friend of mine to arrive in Rome in the late afternoon of friday, dinner out and then, possibly, party on the beach organized by another VCNer, Aziz (Aziz's parties, which are fundraising events for various causes in the under-developed countries, have became sort of widely anticipated events in the community). Fact is, a series of incidents delayed her arrival once, twice, three times over the day so much that at 9 I found myself at the last VCN Happy Hour of the season in the coolest (both as posh and fresh - picture at the right) place we ever had it, the lounge bar of the Rose Garden Palace Hotel near the american embassy.
At midnight, as the Happy Hour closed with half the people moving to the party and the other half dispersing, I went back home, waiting for news, which didn't arrive until 4 am, when my friend, obviously too exhausted to do anything, finally arrived in Rome. We reconvened for the day after.
Saturday, finally, the original plans were sort of respected. Muesi Capitolini in the morning, my favourite italian restaurant (Hosteria del Moro in Vicolo del Cinque) for lunch, so she could finally try italian lasagna, at my place during the afternoon to see "the Sixth Sense" with the air conditioned (and good thing I called my brother, or we would had probably surprised him in his usual "home alone without parents" attire), out again for shopping and finally Eritrean restaurant, something I had meant to do for the last 4 weeks.
Then, after having taken her back to her hotel, I joined the "usual friends" at Campo dei Fiori for the last drink together before vacations (for them) would had divided us until september. There, following an old game we have been playing for years, finding ourselves in 4 boys next a table of 4 girls, we sent the most uninterested of the lot (following the old rule that the least interested you are in girls, the most sucesful you are), which in this case was obviously me, to establish a contact, which was done in the best style and successfully and then, no more than 5 minutes later, having accomplished my mission for my friends, I parted ways and headed home.
Sunday I should had seen my Romanian friend again, but once again technical difficulties arose and plans were cancelled, so I ended up staying home, watched Ferrari winning the Hockenaheim Grand Prix, caught up with the (awful, I must say) news from the world I hadn't been following. Then, the night was troubled by a definitely annoying dream regarding a given someone far far away which awoke me at around 2 am, without any chance of falling asleep again.
And so here I am, on a monday morning, slightly zombie-like, a new week which, at least, should led to a much, very much, awfully much wished meeting... with the same given someone of above.
After the failed blitz on Florence on thursday, the plan called for a Romanian friend of mine to arrive in Rome in the late afternoon of friday, dinner out and then, possibly, party on the beach organized by another VCNer, Aziz (Aziz's parties, which are fundraising events for various causes in the under-developed countries, have became sort of widely anticipated events in the community). Fact is, a series of incidents delayed her arrival once, twice, three times over the day so much that at 9 I found myself at the last VCN Happy Hour of the season in the coolest (both as posh and fresh - picture at the right) place we ever had it, the lounge bar of the Rose Garden Palace Hotel near the american embassy.At midnight, as the Happy Hour closed with half the people moving to the party and the other half dispersing, I went back home, waiting for news, which didn't arrive until 4 am, when my friend, obviously too exhausted to do anything, finally arrived in Rome. We reconvened for the day after.
Saturday, finally, the original plans were sort of respected. Muesi Capitolini in the morning, my favourite italian restaurant (Hosteria del Moro in Vicolo del Cinque) for lunch, so she could finally try italian lasagna, at my place during the afternoon to see "the Sixth Sense" with the air conditioned (and good thing I called my brother, or we would had probably surprised him in his usual "home alone without parents" attire), out again for shopping and finally Eritrean restaurant, something I had meant to do for the last 4 weeks.
Then, after having taken her back to her hotel, I joined the "usual friends" at Campo dei Fiori for the last drink together before vacations (for them) would had divided us until september. There, following an old game we have been playing for years, finding ourselves in 4 boys next a table of 4 girls, we sent the most uninterested of the lot (following the old rule that the least interested you are in girls, the most sucesful you are), which in this case was obviously me, to establish a contact, which was done in the best style and successfully and then, no more than 5 minutes later, having accomplished my mission for my friends, I parted ways and headed home.
Sunday I should had seen my Romanian friend again, but once again technical difficulties arose and plans were cancelled, so I ended up staying home, watched Ferrari winning the Hockenaheim Grand Prix, caught up with the (awful, I must say) news from the world I hadn't been following. Then, the night was troubled by a definitely annoying dream regarding a given someone far far away which awoke me at around 2 am, without any chance of falling asleep again.
And so here I am, on a monday morning, slightly zombie-like, a new week which, at least, should led to a much, very much, awfully much wished meeting... with the same given someone of above.
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