Thinking about Rome...Slug Bug Nun

-I like playing slug bug nun, a game where you punch a nearby friend when you see a nun. The game is based on slug bug where you hit a nearby friend when you see a Volkswagen beetle. There were so many nuns in Rome that we had to change the game to slug bug caucasian nun. I'll play smart car fart the next time I'm in Rome.
-There are no backseat drivers in a smart car.
-I've decided not to give friends and family the "Joy of Cooking: Re-creating Meals Served In Northwest Airlines Economy Class".
-Rome is more expensive than New York.
-Romans weren't listening to iPods. They were talking to other people.
-A Roman woman smiled at me. It could have been gas. It's so hard to tell.
-Sometimes I forget how to sleep.
-I'm not happy when friends hear me struggle to speak Italian and know that I have three semesters of Italian under my belt.
-Senior moments will be renamed "google moments" when gen X reaches old age. There were many times during the vacation when my friends and I were unable retrieve key information, like the name of the lead singer of Simply Red. Seconds after the "moment" everyone would agree, with chins raised, brows unfurled, and cheeks unblushed that the query could be googled at a later date. There was no shame in forgetting.

Saturday Night at the Movies

I went to see Michael Clayton Saturday evening. The theater was about a quarter full. I chose a seat near the back. Two seats separated myself from others. Most people in the theater had surrounded themselves with open seats.

There are many reasons why people add space between themselves and strangers. Sometimes it's about self-preservation. For example, in a hospital waiting room a person will try not to sit next to an ailing stranger, afraid of the bad air that she is expelling. Sometimes it's about the protection of dignity. For example, on public transportation a bulky person might stand, because he is afraid of not being able to fit between two seated riders. Sometimes it's about dignity and the expulsion of bad air. In public bathrooms a person will try to go unnoticed next to an open stall.

I sat apart from others in theater because someone might notice that I can't stop smelling myself. I had eaten at a local restaurant three days in a row. The food was ok, but I liked the way I smelled after day two, so I returned to the restaurant again. My smell left me almost anxiety free- like when you bite into a deboned carrot.

I was only left with one worry- that a stranger sitting next to me might accuse me of being a cyborg, because he noticed that wires were coming out of my right ear (one of my earbuds is broken).

The February Calendar

A friend of a close relative visited me about nine months ago. She thought that I needed to decorate my kitchen, so she went out and bought a calendar and hung it above my stove. I didn't do anything with the calendar, so it stayed on February for four months. During this time I didn't exactly live off-the-calendar. I had a general idea of both month and day. But whenever I looked at the calendar it felt like February kept repeating itself, like a record with a skip. I finally threw the calendar out, just three months before the start of another February.

Irresistible Rationality

Irresistible + Rationality= Irrationality

Evidence of Irresistible Rationality:
If I don't do an immediate clean up after I cut myself in the kitchen, then roaches will develop a taste for blood.

I'll lose my voice if I don't use it during the day. (I don't like zero noise emission days.)

The Smithsonian is relocating people, animals, and buildings to Washington DC so that they can be exhibited in a museum devoted to my life. I don't know how else to explain the disappearance of my next door neighbors and their dog, my bird neighbor, my college dorm, certain friends, the hospital that I was born in, my high school, the donut shop hang out, Dan Fogelberg, and a cord that connects my DVD to the TV.