We leave tomorrow afternoon. I'm packing light, so light that when I lift my bag to marvel at its lightness I get paranoid that I forgot everything essential. There can't possibly be shampoo, an extra pair of shoes and a hoodie in a bag that light. But they're in there, all right, and anyway I remembered my passport, my debit card, nicotine gum for the plane, and my camera. There's not too much else I absolutely couldn't do without.
So we're as ready as we're going to be. I do this every trip, but I keep thinking I should have done more research, ferreted out more little shops on the internet, made more--and more obsessive--lists, run off more copies of guidebook pages.
I think we've got enough. I don't think we're going to run out of things to do just because I didn't bother to write down every obscure art gallery in town, cross-referenced by bus stop, subject matter, and opening hours.
The only thing I really, really wish is that I bothered to learn some Italian that wasn't penis related.
My penis hurts.
Ho male al pene.
His penis is swollen.
Ha il pene gonfia.
I have lost my penis.
Ho perso il pene.
How ugly-American is that? Yeah, hi, I'm here to soak up a little bit of your complex and timeless culture. Oh, and make dick jokes. Um, hello? Speakee zee English? God, honey, it's pretty here and all, but I wish they talked like real people here, I can't understand a word except for "penis."
Stupid. I forsee no need for any of those phrases in any language, ever. They're useless. But they're funny, dammit! They're really fun to say, especially if you gesture grandly as you say them. Pene! (Wave hands excitedly.) Ho male al pene! (Sweep arms skyward.) Give it a try; you'll see.
So that's it. I'll try to post at least intermittently while we're gone. For fun, I was going to prewrite some posts to autopublish throughout the trip, but I was too busy cracking myself up learning how to describe my nonexistent penis in Italian. Let no one say I don't use my time on this earth wisely.