Il Derby - Pt. II

Flares, insulting signs and songs, tear gas, joy, despair, and little bottles of coffee flavoured liquor. I become a laziale for a few hours.

So me and my two girlfriends had a plan to get into the stadium for free through a friend of theirs that works at the stadium gates. He was suppose to call us at 5 pm to let us know which gate he would be working at. He calls before then to let us know that due to a planned heavy police presence, he can only get in two of us, and even that's not a sure thing. Ack. We decide to give it a go anyway, and head off for the stadium at 6pm. We park the car and find a scalper. After some debate amongst ourselves, we decide to buy the tickets at 40 Euro a pop and if our friend can get two of us in, the other will sell two of the tickets and use the third to get in. We also buy a few cafè borgetto from a vendor who gives us a fourth one for free since we're cute. Cafè borgetto are small vials of coffee flavoured liquor. After one each, we are already feeling a bit toasty.

Il Derby

Rome has two calcio squads: S.S. Lazio and A.S. Roma. Tomorrow afternoon they face off.

There are two derbys every season. I've lived in this city since June '98. And have never gone to one of these epic battles. Tomorrow that changes.

The rivalry between the two squads is indeed epic. The choreography of the two curve (Nord and Sud)would inspire the most lackadaisical calcio fan to lose their voice screaming insults at the opposing team's players, fans and the refs. Tear gas is used frequently. Something is always set on fire. The Ultras (uber-hardcore fans) of each squad always fight. A Laziale friend of mine told me yesterday that tomorrow will be the anniversary of the death of a Lazio fan who was stabbed by Romanisti. I think he said 24 years ago; the Ultras have long memories. Tensions will be running high; Lazio performed dismally last year and Roma is still flaunting their scudetto win two years ago. This year Lazio is looking good, despite the selling off most of their major stars, including the long standing captain Alessandro Nesta (easily one of the best defensive players in the game, and a major fucking hottie to boot. Even I, Juve fan that I am, mourned that move). Roma's luck seems to be on the wane.

Ode to my cleavage

While not nearly as much fun as penis puppetry, my tits tend to enthral me.

When I finally sprouted boobies at the ripe old age of 18, I alternately despaired over their smallness or (when faced with costume fitting time in a room of prepubescent quasi-anorexics) their heretofore relatively unfamiliar largeness. My middle sister teased me mercilessly when I got my first cotton and elastic Calvin Klien training bra "Calvin Klien makes big ones" Karma is a nasty bitch, though - the training bras were passed on to her as hand me downs. Guess who now has the pair of knockers nicknamed "The Twins". (I wuv you, snookums. Please don't kill me.)

There's no place like home

I have returned, with a sore liver and a nice bruise on the back of my thigh from pole dancing on top of tables in four inch heels. I shit you not.

What can I say? These little conferences tend to be exercises in imbibing mass quantities of alcohol after the "official" day is done. Business tends to start at the conference(s) and get finished in the bar. As for my speech, suffice to say if I shook any more, I would have fallen off the fucking stage. One guy even commented, "I thought you were about to cry". Wasn't far from the truth. Consider me traumatized. As soon as I got off stage I went straight to the bar and downed a Jack Daniels on the rocks. Ick. Ugh.

But all in all, things went well. I am *so* happy to be home, though. Roma is my drug, and like an addict, I start to twitch after being gone for work for so long. It's not quite as bad when I am travelling for myself, as I do have an itchy wanderlust. But when you are too busy working to actually see where you are, it's just not the same.

Anyway, updates will still be sporadic for the next few months, as I have a backlog of work to catch up on, as well as new responsibilities and other fun stuff like that.

Non vedevo l'ora a ritornare a Roma. Quanto mi mancava questa città e l'atmosfera unica da cui mi ne sono propio innamorata. Sono nata americana, ma il mio cuore ormai è italiano, anzì, romano.

Crush

When was the last time you had one?

So there's this guy in The Industry I Vaguely Work In that I've known for 2 years now. He lives in another city in Europe. Really nice guy. Last year at one of these conference dohickies, it hits me BAM! simultaneously between the eyebrows and the legs that this guy is fucking hot. Like make-me-weak-in-the-knees hot. (I guess I didn't notice it the first year I knew him because technically I was still dating Ex-Shithead #1)

Anyway, I can't stop drooling. I can't even look at him too long for fear that I won't be able to stop staring like some sort of hormonally stricken cretin. Unfortunately, I can't try to chat him up as he has a girlfriend, which makes him Off-Limits. With a Capital O-L. I've been on both ends of the Other Woman Spectrum and the view wasn't purdy from either end.

Funny thing is, I don't think I'd try to chat him up even if he *was* available. I'm sort of content to look at him (albeit in fleeting glimpses). Don't mistake me, either; he has a very nice brain to match the looks. It's just that I turn into a stuttering idjit lately when I talk to him. It's like being a pre-pubescent teenager again, complete with the giggles, blushes if I catch him looking at me, and girlfriends giving me a literal and not so subtle shove into him on the dance floor. (I think my face matched my fire engine red dress at that helpful manuever from my friend)

Anyways, I'm getting a double dose of the droolies, what with the conference in Greece and the next one in Belgium. Funny how crass comments won't raise an eyebrow from me, but making eye contact with this guy makes my cheekbones scream "I was just thinking about how good you would taste."

Off to the next conference....