Milan... after some time.

Hello.

I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Each entry seems to take longer and longer to write, but I feel like enough time it's passed for it to be well worth it.

I'm writing here from Milan. It was a great day, and a lot of great sights were seen from all over the city. Unfortunately I don't have a cable to unload the pictures, but throughout the day I happened to find myself at the top of the Duomo downtown and amidst a lot of the many many shopping districts of the fashion capital of the world. I'm here with my family (extended) and it's really nice to have been able to see them again. Not only that, but seeing my parents again meant that both my laundry got done and that there was a king's dinner each night. Needless to say, I ate much more than was probably necessary in anticipation of the next four weeks when I'm going to be going to Morocco and then back to the land of the bourgeois (as much as they don't like to admit it.)

Over the past few weeks there has been a noticed change in the weather. Usually this isn't worth a mention, but there were a few days when it was extremely fickle and I hated the fact that looking out the window in the morning didn't guarantee any of the weather during the rest of the day. Hence, the fact that for the past two weeks it's been stunningly beautiful weather which even might let me get some sort of pigmentation (yea, right) is really appreciated. Unfortunately, today I didn't heed the usual warnings of the sun and forgot to wear sun screen, so I have nice little t-shirt burn lines. Hopefully either tomorrow or in Morocco I'll be able to get equally tan (read: burned) so that I won't have to keep explaining my wonderful lines along my person.

Apart from lounging out in the sun for a majority of the days over the past few days, I did start getting into the habit of playing sports outside (I know!). The wrath of the dirt soccer fields was unleashed on my shoes which I know now have very low tolerance for lots of dirt and quick motions. So, not only did I get glorious blisters on both of my feet, but the other day I decided to play ultimate frisbee with a bunch of french people again and that in turn ripped open the blisters in a torrent of flesh and pain. My makeshift napkin-in-sock bandage did relatively well until I got to Milan and now everything is fairly under control. It didn't feel too cool to have to sit out randomly in the middle of the ultimate game, but at the same time, I couldn't really run around with half my big toe trailing behind me. That being said, I now also need a new pair of shoes. Fortunately, I'm in Milan and hopefully I can weasel a purchase out of my parents, but I'm not going to press the matter. It's summer, and I absolutely love my flip flops. =)

Apart from that, I've gotten used to Paris by now. I know how to get to class, what side of the metro to get on, and I've scientifically tested the different methods for getting from A to B. I have a standard diet rotation, places that I like to go get drinks, and even a favorite beer. This beer, however, is a rather light beer that doesn't really taste like it's trying to be a light beer. It comes in a bottle that's re-sealable and very difficult to describe in words. I will take a picture when I can so that I can explain it in all its glory. Also, it's only 1.77 € for 65 cl at the Franprix, which is a steal when we're talking about beer. I.e. this beer is amazing. But other than that, Paris is really just a city where people live. I love being able to hop on the metro and go out at night, and I love being able to just hang out in a park at night with a bunch of people just talking and having a drink, but that's just Paris life. Our conversation person even told us that she'd never been to the Musée d'Orsay in her 20 some odd years of living in Paris. Go figure.

Morocco, on the other hand, is going to be a lot of fun. I'm expecting a lot of things involving avoiding running water while exploring the random parts of some Muslim country. My dad told me that had I gone to Morocco a few years ago, I could have gone as a brotherly Macedonian. Unfortunately now I'm going to be going as a dirty God-loving American who wants to end the Muslim religion with my loud obnoxious talking and similarly pompous attitude. It's a tourist country, however, and I expect to be treated like one. I barely speak the second most popular language, and I'm pretty sure they don't like the aforementioned third most popular. It's going to be an experience regardless of what happens, although that doesn't mean I'm not going to be taking down the name of the US Consulate in Casablanca and the Embassy in Marrakech, along with getting my passport number tattooed on my ass. That's probably a bit overkill, but they probably won't be able to steal it that way.

Stay classy.

-Pavel