May 9, 1998 Today we went to the Villa Petraia, a home of the Medici family. There were so many roses. The main room reminded me of that scene in Anastasia when she sees the ghosts dancing. Then we went to Fiesole, a beautiful small town on top of a mountain with an amazing view -- the best yet. We walked through some ruins and meadows and discussed life and death. We returned to the apartment, ate gnocchi (semi-foul, mushy), and read Bridget Jones's Diary aloud, which is one of the most hysterically funny books I've ever read. We drank wine and dodged juicy Angelo sprots. For the evening, I proceeded to transform myself into a black-wearing, skin-tight slut and hit the disco. When Gena said that the most important things to Florentines are fashion and fucking, she wasn't kidding. There were Chester Molesters by the dozen. Gena gave herself mental seizures and pulled her bicep muscles trying to park without wrecking an Ape or getting mauled by a warp-speeding motorino. Eva got groped by Julio who smelled like Designer Imposters cologne and I got my neck licked by Biff the Czech refugee who wasn't cute but proposed anyway. We got cat-called like crazy but I sort of enjoyed shaking my big culo. when in rome... © 1999 ~ 2003 eb