Chiesa e Stato

From top down: church (inside and out); outside the EU, artistically expressing the strength of the euro; me being kingly outside the palace

The Duomo in Florence has nothing on the churches in Brussels. These babies are gorgeous inside and out. Sure, the Duomo has a nice marble exterior and sets the skyline for the city. But inside? The thing is practically barren. It feels empty, even during Sunday Mass. The churches we went to in Brussels were gorgeous. Granted I'm a sucker for Gothic architecture, but still. Inside every church we visited, there were floor to ceiling stained-glass windows, marble statues, side altars, even a few icons. We also managed to catch a recital in the one we visited on Sunday afternoon. Coincidentally, that church has a pretty awesome market outside of it. I was tempted to buy lots of cool antique jewelry to bring back for people, but at that point I was out of cash. Mi dispiace. Maybe there will be a better market in Paris?

We also managed to see the EU, which lucky for us is based in Brussels so we didn't have to go far. In the square just outside the EU headquarters, there was a guy who was protesting something in the Middle East: oppression, genocide, sand. Though I'm fairly sure it had something to do with Iran killing politicians in Iraq. But maybe it was over sand. You never know. If I lived in a place that was that hot all the time and didn't have running water, I'd be pretty pissed at the sand too. Regardless, we signed his petition, proving that we are tourists for a cause. We should make it our goal to sign a petition in every country we visit. That should be easy enough in Europe as no one actually wants to work, so protesting/petitioning/going on strike are easy ways to do that. We should have no problem finding angsty workers or civil rights proponents.

The last place of political or religious significance that we saw was the Royal Palace. It has a name, but I don't know it. Nor do I particularly care what it is, because they don't allow tours. Not to mention that it was the palace where King Leopold lived. You know Leo, the Congo-conquering madman that caused Joseph Conrad to write Heart of Darkness. Real sweetheart.

As a last tidbit, I'm trying to upload pictures to Facebook so you can see even more of Belgium as I continue to blog about it this week. For some reason Facebook doesn't want to cooperate, but no surprise there. Facebook never works when you want it to. Least of all when you're in Italy. But keep your eyes open, and I'll let you know when they're up!


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Peace in the Middle East (and the Congo)" Yazge

L'albergo e la strada

Some fun things found whilst wandering...

So to begin the recounting of my Belgian tale, I think it's best to start with our general wanderings. Some of the best finds are the ones that you stumble across, not the ones you go looking for.

First, our hotel. It had The Shining written all over it. I was waiting for two little girls to appear at the end of the hallway and ask me to come play with them. There weren't any lights in the stairwell, and our window faced a covered courtyard - if you could call it that. It was just big enough to fit a fire escape, and probably a few heroin addicts if you looked hard enough. Usually they're too emaciated to see in such dim lighting. The icing on the cake was the trap door on the ceiling of our bathroom, which probably kept the dead bodies from falling out of the ceiling. The hotel itself was in a fantastic neighborhood, surrounded by strip joints and x-rated movie houses/bookstores. Classy in a very esoteric sense. If I ever have children, I will definitely bring them back to this family-friendly hotel. After all, everyone needs to learn how to shower in a tub that doesn't have a curtain or a shower-head affixed to the wall. It's just like washing your dog in a metal tub in the backyard with a hose, only you're the dog.

Needless to say, we wandered away from the hotel for most of our time in Brussels. The pictures above are mostly from a park we found and the surrounding streets. There was a restaurant in the middle of the park that had everything that I want in my restaurant that I plan on opening when I "retire." My plan is to own a restaurant in my old age to give me something to do between writing my books (and a place to get a nice roasted goat cheese sandwich and cup of coffee while I write!) They took this old garden building/shed and renovated the inside into a chic, modern café. Outside there were tables and chairs where attractive, well-dressed Belgian couples and their equally dapper children were eating/playing. There were dogs, Peter Pan sculptures, and grandmas. Everything I could ask for. I may just plan a forceful takeover of that restaurant to save me time. The bottom two pictures are from a sign that was outside the restaurant. I wanted to go back for brunch the next morning, but my travel companions weren't in the mood; it was 25 euro... but all you can eat - which for me is a lot - and included fruit, yogurt, parfaits, nutella, cheeses, crêpes, eggs, salads, lox and other select seafood, baguettes and pastries, the works. Next time I'm in Brussels I'm going if it means I have to go by myself.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Belgian-Brunching" Yazge

Il cielo è Belgio

I want to know who thought it was OK to keep Belgium a secret...

That may have been one of the most wonderful weekends I've ever had. Ever. It felt like one of those day-dreamy trips where everywhere you went was just as awesome as the last. A bit like Disney, only minus the scary people in costumes and plus a lot more waffles.

There was so much to discuss that I think I'm going to spread out the recounting of our tale over the course of this week. Plus I'm tired and really don't have time to do it all now. We got back last night around midnight, and I had class all day today. I found the DVD recordings of the Operas I need to watch for class, but they were all at least 30 euro. Not willing to pay that. So I ordered them on Amazon, had them delivered to the famiglia, and my mom is bringing them when she comes in a week and a half. Crazy, right? I can't believe it's so soon! She and one of our close family friends (Aunt Selma for those of you who know her!) are flying into Rome and I'm going to meet them for the weekend, and then they'll spend the week here in Firenze.

Before I go, I'd like to draw your attention to the change in picture. Since this week is the week of the waffle - and all about Belgium - I felt it was appropriate. Also, by the end of the week expect a video on the festivities surrounding Wafflefest '09. That's right. We video taped it.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Born-to-be-Belgian" Yazge

Belgio!

The land of beer and waffles...

That's right! We're off to Wafflefest '09! You better be excited! I won't be able to post until I get back on Sunday, so you're going to have to do without for a while. I know, it'll be rough, but you must find a way to go. Perhaps you can read something like the New York Times. I hear they're kinda good over there. I mean, obviously no where near the intellectual material I discuss here at The Ugly American, but nobody's perfect.

OK. I should really go now. I need to make sure I have everything I need. Drink maple syrup and think of me!

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Wafflemeister" Yazge

Confessioni di un vegetariano

Can you see their tears? It's because I ate their mother...

Yes! That's right! Everyone makes mistakes... or breaks with their personally imposed moral code. I can't exactly call that chicken fillet last night an accident. OK, let me walk you through it, and then you'll understand.

I wanted to get lots of work done yesterday. So I decided to go back to The Diner and get some coffee, something to eat, and trudge through my Business Law readings. I got a lot of work done, but I don't think that the two lattes and massive plate of chocolate chip pancakes were the best idea. Everyone living in our building is getting swine flu, ebola, SARs, etc. I actually think Lindsey caught death yesterday. She was so deep asleep that we could yell her name and she didn't wake up. As someone who once played a male nurse in a high school Spanish video, I think it's fair for me to diagnose her. It was quite obviously death.

But I think all the caffeine and sugar sent a shock through my system. I was feeling achy and tired when I got home. Also, I was a little over-heated. So to play things safe, I took some echinacea and multivitamins, drank tea, and (GASP!) ate half a chicken breast. I know. I have failed my vegetarian brethren. More importantly, there are little chicks running around somewhere without a momma because I ate her. On the bright side, I'm not feeling ill anymore. So that's positive, no?

Before I go, I'd like to draw your attention to everything to the right of this entry. I've decided it's time for me to upgrade with the technology. They have all these gadgets, and as soon as I figure out how to use them all, I'm going to "pimp my blog". I'm also using the new version of the editor, so as soon as I figure out all those features, you better bet there will be lots of sick new things posted. Sick as in awesome, not as in I have to eat another piece of chicken.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Chicken-killer" Yazge

Il ragazzo che sapeva troppo

Consequently, the boy who epically wins...

If you don't own MIKA's new CD, you need stop whatever you're doing, slap yourself for being so ridiculous, and then go buy it. Trust me. You'll thank me.

I feel it's appropriate to blog about MIKA, as he's European. Well, technically he's half Lebanese and half white-bread American. His dad was in the armed forces in Lebanon, and married a Lebanese woman. They moved to Paris for a while and then settled in London, where MIKA studied music classically (as in he studied classical music, he studied in a classic manner, and he was very classy while doing so). He graduated from the Royal College of Music in London (as in he graduated with pomp and circumstance like Royalty, and did other Royal and Musical things including but not limited to graduating). In 2006 he released Boy in Cartoon Motion, which came to my ears with great success. I listened to it a lot, and everyone in my head thought it was rather enjoyable. In fact, there were enough voices present to hold a quorum and award MIKA a key to the State of Delusion.

My multiple personalities are now incredibly pleased to announce the release of MIKA's latest CD, The Boy Who Knew Too Much. My literary voice would like to note MIKA's obvious use of the word "boy" in both CD titles, and would also like to suggest that he does so to reaffirm in the public eye that he indeed is of the male gender. (Trust us, it can be confusing with his falsetto). We also strongly recommend listening to "Touches You" on repeat. It may be the best song on the entire CD. You will be instantly addicted.

In other news, I have an overwhelming appetite. I'm off to find cheesecake.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "and Julian, Esteban, Mr. Sourpuss, and Helga" Yazge

Mi scusi, sono idioto americano

Three representative pictures upon a theme...

So first off, I'm an idiot. THIS is officially my 50th post. Who knew?! Apparently none of us. The counter that tells me how many posts I've made also includes unpublished drafts, of which I had two. Funny, no? You're right. It's not.

But since everyone assumes Americans to be idiots (even though we innovate faster than most of the world) it's only appropriate that I played the stupid American last night and forwent high cuisine for diner food. We all went out for Kaitlyn's birthday last night, to this place called "The Diner". It was pure genius. It's this American/British diner right in the heart of Florence, surrounded by museums and fancy Florentine steak restaurants. And the best part is that it's cheap. The other best part is that they have veggie burgers!!! Hooray vegetarian cuisine! Oh, and another best part: the chocolate milkshakes. TO. DIE. FOR. So rich and creamy. And unbelievably dark. If I didn't know better (and I don't) I'd say that they used dark chocolate. More best parts? They have a 4 euro all you can eat breakfast special, and free wireless. As you can tell, there are lots of best parts about this place. Including the wheat bread. You have no idea how hard it is to find wheat bread here. For a country that's a big stickler about fresh/natural ingredients, they sure as hell use a lot of refined carbohydrates (white sugar, bleached flour).

Needless to say this place will very quickly become a weekly haunt for Team San Giovanni. I also may escape fairly regularly on the mornings that I don't have class, or on the weekends that I'm in town. Erika and I were discussing yesterday how neither one of us has been artistically inspired by Florence, and how ironic that was. I told her that part of my writing process is getting into a zone, a place where I can get in touch with that inner narrative voice. For me, that typically entails going somewhere to write. I can't do it from home, which is why I've been having a hard time writing here. There's no place to go. People don't leisurely sit about in cafés; they take a shot of espresso and run. But now I have my place. So maybe I'll actually get something cranked out!


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Veggie Patty" Yazge


P.S. - Wafflefest '09 starts this Friday! Prepare yourselves!

Il duomo non buono.

Ding dong! Go away...

I'm no longer a fan of the Duomo. That's right. I said it. And I'm not going to take it back!

The bells go off every 15 minutes, and they're louder than the 80's. There's no such thing as silence in this piazza. And the tourists. I thought it was bad in Manhattan, but at least New York has sidewalks. The sidewalks here are mere suggestions of what a sidewalk should be, and you can't even use them because there's always 20 people in front of you with their cameras pointed up towards the Duomo. OUT OF MY WAY!

This morning I heard some lady complaining "Where's the golden door?!" Well, if you did your reading, you'd know that it's on the baptistry, not the cathedral itself. If you had any respect, you'd realize that this "building" is a place of worship and holds a lot of religious significant for some people. And if you'd stop being loud and obnoxious, my life would be a lot better. It really feels like I'm living in the middle of Times Square. I miss Union Square, and New York, and big sidewalks.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Manhattan" Yazge

Numero Cinquanta!

"I like to KICK, DANCE, and KICK! IIIIIII'M 50!"

50th Post say WHAT!?

That's right! We're officially over the hill (better than being under it, right?) There are only a few things older than The Ugly American at this point, and one of them may be my mother... wait! Who said that!? So rude!

So in honor of this epic day, I am currently attending Liturgy at St. Arbucks on my iTunes. You have to give thanks and offer something up to the Lord when you live past a certain benchmark. So I felt that for the 50 mark it was appropriate to listen to the playlist of hymns (in proper liturgical order. SLAVIC liturgical order. If it were Syro/Byzantine it'd only be 5 minutes long and your eardrums would bleed. Can you tell I'm disenchanted?) And seeing as how I'm not going to be able to take communion anytime that I'm in Europe, I figured it would be OK to start off my morning with espresso and whipped cream.

Speaking of food, we tried making scones again last night. We were about halfway through making them when we realized we didn't have butter... so we ended up making little bread plops. It's the only way I know how to describe them. Apparently shredded pear and honey doesn't work as an adequate substitute for butter. Point taken. And then as I was making coffee this morning and cleaning out the empty Illy can, I cut myself. Maybe that will count as atonement for missing Liturgy for 3 and a half months? Isn't that how you restore a covenant? Or atone for a broken covenant? Shedding blood? We're going to go with it.

One last story before I go: everyone went out last night (AGAIN! I can't handle three nights in a row, so I went for moral support, not for the party. I'm such an old man.) And while we were out I ran into a girl I met during orientation week. I ended up with her and her two friends in this Russian bar - random. But they did the most fantastic thing: vodka shots chased by a salted tomato! Who knew that people do that!? Not me! It was fantastic. I wasn't drinking last night, but I made an exception for that one shot. Think of it as a cultural experience. It's the only way I'm drinking vodka from here-on out. Though really I just want a whole bunch of salted tomatoes and I'd be just as happy...

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "50 and I've still got it!" Yazge

Cos'è quello?!

We here at Piazza San Giovanni hope that this video adequately expresses how ridiculous the past 36 hours have been.

We went wandering south of the Arno in hopes of finding something amusing. Originally we were supposed to leave at 1 or 2 o'clock. That didn't happen. It wasn't until 5 that we left the apartment, and then it took us an hour and a half to walk 5 blocks. The girls kept dipping into stores on the way. Once across the river, we found some of the best gelato, an art show, and a jazz concert in a piazza. The gelato I got was a tiramisu mousse, so in other words it was heaven flavored. I fully expect that if I make it to heaven, I will perpetually have that taste on my tongue. Speaking of food, I found a piece of art I really liked at the art show. It was of asparagus, which sounds like it would make a very boring picture. But it was awesome. And made me hungry. The real gem of the wandering was Cavalli Club, a night club/restaurant that is housed in a desanctified Anglican church. Roberto Cavalli thought he'd like a night club, so he bought a church and poured FOUR MILLION DOLLARS into it. We didn't realize any of this until we went home and Googled it. When we ended up going there later that night, no one was there, but it was still really gorgeous.

But the real amusement started when we began getting ready to go out last night. We had music on, and at some point someone switched it over to Disney music - hence the video. It was pretty hilarious. We should have just stayed home and continued to make videos of everyone singing like idiots, because all we did all night was wander around aimlessly. We only stayed at each bar for 10-15 minutes. The only redeeming point of the night was when out of nowhere, this segway comes zooming around the corner. Some drunk couple were singing loudly and swerving around. Can you still get a DUI on a segway?

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Ridicolo" Yazge

Santa Crociata contro la malattia

Sisters on a mission.

Signs of the swine flu epidemic have become so apparent that the nuns have begun to arm themselves. You know, in case the swine flu victims turn into zombies and attempt to take over the world. Habits and handguns go together really well, the only type of black on black wardrobe combination that is guaranteed to work every time. Think of them as crusaders for a cure.

In order to seek refuge from any airport pathogens, we went to a couple bars last night. I figure that all the other people in the bar were adequately sterilized due to the large amounts of alcohol they've been drinking. And I mean sterilized from germs... not as in neutered. The couple making out in the hallway leading to the bathrooms proved that point rather well. I'm sure the armed nuns would have had something to say about it. Perhaps the frisky little couple was just possessed like the swine that were driven into the sea in the bible. Swine flu. Clearly.

As we were leaving the bar, these two Italian guys came up to us. The first one was talking to Susan, and the other one asked me, "Is this your girlfriend?" To which I replied that she wasn't, just a close friend. He told me "That's OK. Let's just pretend" He wanted his friend to leave, and was trying to tell him that Susan was already spoken for in hopes that the friend would leave. When we realized that Susan's suitor wasn't going away anytime soon, the other Italian and I stuck up conversation. Apparently he works as a bus driver for ATAF, and his friend either worked at another club? Or just came from another club? It was loud and I don't remember. But the one thing that stuck out from the conversation was that the guy told me he'd been with his girlfriend for 6 years and - I quote - "All the women are only for fun." (Sounds of guns locking and loading and the ruffle of habits in the distance). Clearly the two Italians were zombies, sex-crazed zombies, not the flesh eating kind, but zombies nonetheless. We didn't stick around to see what the nuns made of the club, but I'm sure there was lots of holy water and sizzling.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Freedom Fighter" Yazge

Non prendete il autobus

This is what it feels like every morning...

So the swine flu has clearly spread to the rest of Florence and is causing riotous madness in not just NYU students, but all the locals as well. The bus this morning was a hot mess. We were more crowded than usual, and the guy next to me smelled like a butt. He must be on the tail end of the swine flu, just getting over it. Two girls on the bus CLEARLY had swine flu, because it was disrupting their mental functioning. This little old lady got on the bus a few stops after all the students piled in. These two girls had grabbed seats, and didn't offer them up to the little old woman who must have been at least a thousand years old. And that's a conservative guess. At most, she's as old as dirt. And all the other students were too busy talking about their weekend trips to allow the Florentines on or off the bus, or offer any other elderly people seats. This could be why everyone thinks that Americans are major tool-bags.


I, on the other hand, still remain healthy and strong. So much so that I packed my lunch today! What's on the menu? Lox and rosemary feta sandwich, a couple pieces of fruit and a Greek yogurt. Well, I'm eating the yogurt now, because I couldn't wait until lunch to eat again. But I did pack it... Odds are there will only be one piece of fruit by the time I actually sit down for lunch. I tend to graze throughout the day as opposed to eat clearly defined meals. I don't let the conventions of society restrict my diet. I am a liberated man! I eat, therefore I am.


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Bus-Braving" Yazge

H1N1 in Italia

Put on your masks. Put down the prosciutto.

So I was going to write about my adventure to the wine store and how I found this awesome Salumeria on my way home.... but then the Swine flu hit.

Apparently three of the four other people I'm living with are running a fever. The nurse from campus came down and gave us a whole bunch of masks, sanitizer, gloves, thermometers, and one of our sick-o roommates. Technically we can't call it swine flu, because no one has been tested. Officially these are just preventative measures. Unofficially I'm blowing the whistle, waiving the red flag, going public! SWINE FLU HAS HIT FLORENCE! Maybe... I'm the only one that hasn't gotten sick yet. I'm a strong individual. Sturdy. Husky. I'm also the only one that doesn't eat pork. Coincidence? I think not! Ignore the fact that H1N1 doesn't come from eating pork. All that matters is that being a vegetarian has given me the evolutionary advantage.

Will keep you updated as more information becomes available.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Healthy as a Horse" Yazge

I formaggi

Apres brie, le deluge...

First of all, I would like to thank you all for the votes of confidence and overwhelmingly impressive job of appeasing my desire to travel. Good work team! I'm booking my ticket for Paris as soon as Liz gives me the go-ahead (she has to double check something with her professor first). I now just have to decide if I want to take the 2pm flight for 45 euro, or the 7am flight for 100 euro. Decisions, decisions...

But unfortunately, I must now change the subject to a more dire matter. I need your help in battling an addiction I've had for some time. Yes, that's right. I've been fighting a silent, but rather nasty battle, like many great artists before me: Poe, Edith Piaf, Ray Charles... Lindsay Lohan. I know that this must shock and upset many of you, but the first step towards recovery is admitting that you indeed have a problem. Last night I saw that problem manifest itself in the most obscene behavior. Because were out of baguette, I was forced to shave off slices of red onion, put them on greasy potato chips, smear them with brie and devour anything else that got between that horrid combination and my mouth. I was out of control. Moderation knew not my name. There were chip shavings everywhere, smeared cheese wax on the table, and if a camera had been there to document the horrid and ghoulish looks on my face I most certainly would have ended up in the tabloids by 9am this morning.

Of course, I regret such behavior and wish that I could take it back. I could try to blame it on an alien baby inside of me, hungering for saturated fats and odorous vegetables. I could blame it on the emotional "fat child" that's lived inside me from a very young age - you know him, and you saw him take over my body briefly after childbirth until the age of 3, and again between grades 3 and 7. I could even try to blame it on my monthly cycle, as I'm sure I'll soon be bloated and moody. But no. That would be an error on my part and never allow me to properly move on from such a traumatic experience. Instead, I humbly beseech your prayers and messages of hope for a brighter future in the gourmet. With your help, and most likely that of a trained professional and heavy medication, I hope to one day be able to snack responsibly.


Repentantly yours,

Matteo "Downy Jr" Yazge


(For the record, I tried to Wikipedia "famous alcoholics" and it came back with a message saying "did you mean famous catholics?" Hilarious.)

Fare o non fare?

This could be Liz and I on Thanksgiving

OK Team, I need your input. I have a very critical decision to make, and I want everyone's opinion. No exceptions. Are you ready for it? Are you ready? Here it goes:

Liz and I really wanted to see Paris together, but I'm already going for the first half of Fall Break. As Liz and I spoke further about the matter, she told me that the only time she could go is the weekend of November 27th - Thanksgiving weekend. The reason why that's the only weekend that works is because she wants to take a 3 hour cooking lesson at Le Cordon Bleu. That would be where Julia Child got her start. Fantastic. So I think that I'd really love to do this, but should I go back to Paris that weekend instead of doing something else? Plus the class costs something like $75 US. But how many chances do you get to take a cooking class at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris?! I'm conflicted, but not really. I just need everyone to tell me that I should go do it. Can you do that for me? I just need lots of positive affirmation right now. Oh! Oh! And don't forget how amazing Thanksgiving in Paris could be. Especially after I've learned 3 hours worth of Culinary skills! And the wine. Don't forget the wine.

Thoughts?

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Bleu" Yazge

Ciao Ciao Soldi

Designer Outlets that look like a village. A very, very expensive village.

We decided to venture outside of Florence this afternoon in search of a bargain. On the whole, I was underwhelmed. Some of the stores were nice, but not that cheap. Some were cheap, but not that nice. Others made it impossible to distinguish the men's section from the women's. Jean Paul Gaultier was particularly difficult, as everything has a plastic sheen to it, with lots of bedazzling and other French nonsense. I'm sorry, but if I want a pair of jeans, I want jeans. Not the lower half of a Mardi Gras costume.

The Lindt store was by far and away the highlight. They had HUGE tubs of chocolates, 15 different types of truffles, all other types of bars and bite sized pieces. You throw them all in a bag and pay for it by the pound. My head was spinning. I was literally a kid in a candy store. Again, and expensive candy store. Extra dark chocolate, chocolate mousse, espresso, even champagne flavored. The person who first thought to put alcohol in chocolate was a genius. It was seriously tempting to buy some to bring home for the family, but then I realized that there's a Lindt store in New York.

My only other purchase was an AC Milan Jersey. Original price? 80 euro. How much did I pay? 20 euro. Score. And it's a long sleeve jersey. Double score.

Ciao Bella

Matteo "Chocolate Coma" Yazge

Il cane e la spiaggia

Above: the gardens on campus

Below: our new friend Benny

Yes, I realize I haven't written in two days... and trust me the outcries from my thousands of dedicated readers have been heard. My grandmother needs more updates. So I'll try to cover the more exciting portions of the past two days, starting with Thursday:

I have an obnoxiously long break between classes on Thursdays, so a few friends and I decided to grab sandwiches and stroll through the campus gardens. They're really cool. Definitely have that Secret Garden feel to them, only none of us are learning how to walk for the first time. Nor was there a fire in India... (I don't know about that last part. I just remember at the beginning of that movie there was a fire, and an elephant was involved). Anyway, while we were there, we met our new friend Benny. Benny's a dog. A rather shy dog at that... he'd only follow us further into the garden if we left a trail of little scraps of bread from our sandwiches. It wasn't until we'd been in the gardens for 20 minutes that we realized Benny was a girl. At which point we decided to start spelling her name as such: Benni. The "i" makes it way more feminine. Oh, and when we asked her where the Jets were, she said she'd left them at home.

Above: gorgeous beach

Below: gorgeous people

Friday:

Yesterday we went to Viareggio, one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever been to. In addition to all the beautiful things you look for in a beach, there were mountains. A huge mountain range along the coast with snow at the peaks. If you were in the water and turned around to take in the coast, it was stunning. We stayed there for the whole day, and took pictures at sunset. We even played soccer in the sand, and I may or may not have made Jamie eat sand. Hip checks are legal in soccer, right? I also figure it was OK because we were playing next to a pirate flag. Argh matey! I'm a pirate and I ain't be playin' by none o' yer rules land-lubber! Or something...

Also, I think I've decided that after I graduate, I want to live somewhere where there's a beach. I want to be able to go to the beach on a regular basis and not have to drive hours and hours to get there. It'd be even better if I could wake up and walk out my back door ONTO the beach. Maybe I wont wait until retirement to open up my restaurant/lifestyle store. I'll just open a café in Miami and make amazing coffee and sell food, books, art, furniture, and kitchenwares. It'll be an emporium. An awesome emporium. I don't even know the technical definition of emporium, but I think that's what I want. We'll also have yoga 3 times a week.

*If you want to see more pictures of the beach, I'm posting them to Facebook. I have some amazing ones of the ocean/sunset. Too many to post here though.

Oh, and I spoke to the little Nonna running the beach rental place (we had to pay 5 euro for our chairs on the beach). She understood me completely. I understood her completely. Go team.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Peg-leg" Yazge

Troppo Troppo Troppo...

Thessaloniki: the beach and the film festival

So yesterday I was in the midst of booking our trip to Greece when a funny little message showed up on my computer screen. "CREDIT CARD DENIED". That was fun. Originally I was going to try and book our trip to Spain last night too, but I took the credit card denial as a sign, finished booking the trip to the Thessaloniki International Film Festival and called it a night. It's exciting though. We'll be there when the weather isn't hot, and the movie tickets are only 6 euro apiece. Not to mention all the amazing Greekness of it all. Though I don't speak a word of Greek, so that should be interesting... Maybe I'll just start shattering plates all over the place and they'll understand me better. O-PAH!

Oh, and by-the-by, I'm officially making it home from Amsterdam. Sorry to those of you who were pulling for me to stay there for the rest of the semester. I finally got my plane ticket (part of the reason my credit card was flagged; funny how they don't think you should be buying 5 plane tickets to 4 different countries in one day!) So all but one of our travels are booked. Barcelona is the last one, unless anyone has any other amazing (and affordable) suggestions?

OH OH OH! Before I forget! I woke up this morning and was getting ready to go to the bathroom when I saw THE LARGEST COCKROACH EVER! The ones back in New York have NOTHING on these suckers. It was the size of my fist. The girls were screaming and wanted me to do something about it... fulfill my duty as the only owner of a Y-chromosome. I was like "You've got the wrong guy. Bugs=nast." But I ended up destroying the little bastard with my shoe, then proceeded to spray it with "Off!" I don't know what I thought that would do. It's supposed to repel bugs, not kill them. But maybe he'll experience a degree of self-loathing that will teach him a lesson. Bugs - really crawly creatures of any kind - don't belong in my apartment.


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Xeno" Yazge

Cialdafesta!!!

Just try to not be excited...

That's right. Wafflefest is ON! This recently surfaced from previous Wafflefest extravaganzas. The hype is building, especially as the celebrity guest lists begin to fill up. Among the noted guests of honor are Aunt Jemima, The Pilsbury Doughboy, and famed waffle regurgitator Paris Hilton. While we have yet to confirm rumors, we did find pictures that suggest we can expect an appearance from President Obama. Apparently he's a huge fan of the waffle.

We hear there might be video coverage from previous Wafflefests, and are dedicating all our current efforts into procuring it to share. We'll let you know as soon as it's posted!

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Wafflemeister" Yazge

Le cose nuove

Milan, watch out.

So the past 24 hours have been full of new things, and by full I mean I have two new things to share. I'll number them so it's easier for you to follow:

1. I bought a new leather jacket. I feel very Top Gun in it, especially when I wear my sunglasses. I knew that I wanted to get a leather jacket while I was here, but I didn't expect to find it so early, or in a normal store (as opposed to the street market). But it's great that I did, because I can't haggle to save my life. The only bargaining skills I have are when it comes to bumming money out of my parents, and that's taken quite some time for me to refine into the art form it is today. Not to mention my fear of rejection; even if I get my parents to fork over whatever sum of money I've been preordained to have that week, I know they still love me. Street vendors? Not so much.

2. MOKA! We finally bought coffee to make back at the apartment, because this weekend we discovered that we have a Moka coffee pot. You put the water in the bottom part, then put in the metal filter with the grounds and screw on the top. You place the whole thing over the stove, and the water steams through the filter into the top piece. It's kind of like a percolator. Only better. And delicious. My memories of percolators involve lots of old people and really crappy coffee that tastes like someone tried to brew charred dirt. Non bene. My Moka coffee came out pretty well this morning, and now I just have to get down how to make the sugar/froth that goes on top. It involves taking the first shot of espresso that brews and mixing it with sugar. You can learn how to do it here.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Maverick" Yazge

P.S. - Further reporting on Wafflefest '09 to come soon!

Caccia di foto

This photo, for instance, would net gain you roughly 6 points, 8 if you were in a different country. 16 if it happened in a museum where pictures are not allowed.

After a rather hectic night out, we decided to go to brunch. Church wasn't in the picture this morning. I think I'm going to go to Catholic mass at the Duomo tonight. 6pm in a language I partially understand is much more appealing than 9am in tongues. But back to our brunch. I wasn't horribly hungry, and decided to get coffee with a fruit salad (a small fruit salad, mind you) which ended up costing me 10 Euro total. I paid $14 for a coffee and fruit cup. Lame. This is why we decided that from now on, Sunday brunch will be held in our apartment, alla Chef Matteo. I can whip together something far more appetizing for 6 people using less than $14. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, gouging Italian bastards.

But something wonderful did come out of our brunch time: the photo scavanger hunt list! We've decided that over the course of the semester, we'll be having a scavenger hunt for random and ridiculous things all over Europe. For instance, if you can get a picture with a nun, 3 points. If you get a picture on a Vespa with the owner, 4 points. If you get a picture on a boat, 3 - wearing a sailor hat, 5 - with a sailor, 7. Of course there are some bigger ones, such as getting a picture with a member of a royal family, the pope, or in the process of crashing a wedding (all worth 10 points). But if you can get the picture in a foreign country? 2 bonus points. Double the points if you take the picture inside a museum that doesn't allow pictures. (Should participants be caught in the act, we are not responsible for any subsequent legal action taken against said guilty parties). We do encourage suggestions for other items on the list. The more outrageous, the better.


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Photo Fantastic" Yazge

Nella cucina

We had family dinner last night, and what goes better with familydinner than family dessert? And what's a better family dessert than crepes? Nothing. That's what.

I have some wonderful pictures of our epic success at dessert (photo credit goes to Acacia, our resident photographer). We made two types of batter, plain and chocolate. We also made our own syrup using Nutella as a base, and adding - among other things - butter and Amaretto. I find dessert is best when it has lots of liquor and fat in it.

And because we thoroughly enjoyed our familial bonding time, we booked our first family vacation. To where, you ask? Belgium of course! For Waffle-fest '09!!! OK, so it's not an actual thing, but we're going to make it a thing. It's going to be the biggest thing to his Brussels since the sprout. Prep yourself. We leave in 2 weeks, and it's going to be fanTASTIC. More to follow soon - as we figure out what the hell there is to do in Brussels besides eating waffles.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Waffle Wantin'" Yazge

Orfeo e li Medici

Marie di Medici, aka - Stone Cold Fox.

So you thought Opera was boring? WRONG! We were discussing in class today how people paid for the huge endeavor of putting on an opera, and essentially it boiled down to the Medici family. They were like the Carnegies of their day... but like, also the Kennedys, the Clintons, the Vanderbilts, and the cast of Golden Girls all rolled into one. They ruled Florence, had all the money, and were insane about funding the arts. Essentially if you had some crazy idea that you thought would make good art, they'd give you money for it. I really feel that I was born in the wrong century, because I've been looking for someone to fund my extravagant "art" for a LOOOONG time now. And by art I mean propensity for expensive food and clothing.

ANYWAY! The very very first opera ever performed was a WEDDING GIFT! Like, from one person. He paid for an entire opera to be written, performed, everything. Just for one night. The best part? The groom wasn't there. [emphasis mine] - I realize that these are my words, and so inherently it would be my emphasis, but I feel those two words give me credibility as a writer. Or something. But back to the Medici! Marie di Medici (above) was to be wed to Henry IV of France, but he didn't go to the wedding. He sent a proxy, and then had her processed (as in there was a procession, not as in he sent her to the federal pen) to France. Mainly because he was afraid if he left Paris, the people wouldn't let him back in. Must have been a great guy. Maybe he should have commissioned a few operas for someone's birthday. Just saying.


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Opera Studying" Yazge

Gioca di birra.

Last night Jamie and I were considering going on a pub crawl that one of the local tourist agencies was leading. We thought that'd mean going to some quintessential European pubs. You know, old men telling war stories, lots of soccer fans, singing crazy drunken songs... the works. We're cheap, so we thought we'd just meet up with the pub crawl people at the last bar as opposed to paying the $15 to go to all three.

This place, Red Garter, was definitely not what we were expecting. Granted it was an ex-pat bar, but that's no excuse. There weren't so many ex-pats as there were obnoxious American students and two or three older creepy Italians lurking in the corner. There was a beer pong tournament, some crappy cover band playing in the back room, and 90's music blasting everywhere else. I don't go to these types of bars when I'm in the states, so why would I want to go to one here? (Although to be fair, they have the Sunday football games live every week at 7pm... that may need to happen.) Forget finding old men with crazy war stories, I couldn't even find anyone that looked old enough to remember what happened in the first Gulf War, let alone talk about Nam or the damn Nazis. Oh, and the soccer game that was on the one TV they had turned on? It was the European version of ESPN Classic. Fail.

On the bright side, there was plenty for Jamie and I to make fun of while we drank our beer. Heineken goes down so much better with laughter at someone else's expense.

Ciao Bella

Matteo "Pub Problems" Yazge

I polpi: un'opera BUFFA!

It didn't look like this, per se, but it most certainly felt like it.

So I bought an octopus the other day at the market. Fresh. Cleaned. Thank GOD! I tried cleaning 2 pounds of calamari on my own once, and that was quite enough of an experience. But I was definitely feeling my Mediterranean roots calling to me yesterday. I marinaded my little octopus friend and went running again along the Arno. I almost lost several fingers in the process of mincing garlic though.... the damned knife blade kept slipping out of the handle. A trip to the kitchenware store is in order on the way home tonight. As much as I love my blood, I don't think it'll make a particularly favorable seasoning. The kitchen smells much better when I use garlic, balsamic, rosemary, and honey (as opposed to various bodily fluids - ink sack included). Also, no fish stink, which means that the octopus was plenty fresh. I think I may have overcooked it a bit though. It was a bit gamey. As I was searing it, I kept thinking "what would Julia have to say about this???" Mom, you've got the book; anything in there?

Sticking with the Mediterranean theme, I checked the box for my new sandalias, and they are the "Riyadh Style" - which granted is in Saudi Arabia, but we're going to go with it. So today I decided to wear my kafiyeh with them. I look more like I'm ready to hit the casbah, but again, we're just going to go with it...


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Octopus Destroyer" Yazge