Here it is, my home in Rome. I am totally stoked. This place is a stellar deal compared to renting a hotel room in Rome. And there is a STEREO.

I love waking up whenever I want to in Italy and making my own coffee. That alone is reason enough to rent an apartment instead of a hotel.

During my first trip to Italy, I went to a restaurant in Trastevere where you you walked up this long staircase lit by candles to the dining room, and there it was that I had my very first Italian pizza. It was like eating in a castle and it was like eating a revelation. Then I ate some profiteroles (another revelation.) I will never, ever forget that meal and I want to go back and find that restaurant. In fact, I think I might not even leave Trastevere on this trip, since I have never really explored it.

On a domestic note, today I saw a woman in the supermarket with huge fake tits and a tight black T-Shirt that said, in rhinestones, BOTOX. I kid you not.

I’ve been spending a lot of time at The Vine. If one more person says “it’s like Your ‘Cheers’ ” I am gonna smack ’em. (Kidding.) Last night I was in there way too long and it was a fun, also interesting, evening. One of the other uber-regulars is the guy who owns the hair salon next door, and for some reason we had never spoken, even though I know he’s been wanting to talk hair in the past, as I had seen him looking at mine on several occasions.

Last night we hooked it up. He doesn’t like my hair, doesn’t work with my skin tone, I was all ready to hate him but I couldn’t, because he was pretty funny. Here’s a little example – he said to Sky, the bartender, “if you were snorting cocaine, wouldn’t you like to do it off her breasts?” I guess some women might get offended, but I thought it was pretty effing funny. Poor Sky, he really gets to witness some pretty bizarre behavior (some of it mine, I think.)

So anyway this salon guy (who may or may not be gay) has a new plan for my hair. All night he kept repeating the following mantra:

Dark Blue. Green. VIOLET VIOLET VIOLET!

Some of the Violets were accentuated by fist-on-the-bar-poundage.

So essentially, streaks of these colors with some reds thrown in. I must admit, I am tempted. For one thing, I have always wanted to do the streaks of green thing, but I’ve never had the cajones to do it. We shall see.

It was a rough morning, and I got nothing done. Oh well, there is always tomorrow. Until then:

Dark Blue. Green. VIOLET VIOLET VIOLET!

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 5th, 2005 at 6:37 pm and is filed under Tales from a Strange Land. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.