May 24th-May 30th: Verona and Vienna

So Verona wasn’t bad!

I found a playground and did some pull-ups for Tony Horton (Hey Tone!)

Then a redbull car gave me a free redbull! They gave it to me already open, which was a little sketch, but I’m still alive (albeit with wings)

I visited Juliet’s House and Grave. Now I’m not sure what this is exactly. I think this is where they shot one of the movies for Romeo and Juliet? Or maybe Verona doesn’t know that it’s just a play and they are very confused? Or maybe Romeo and Juliet was actually a documentary and Shakespeare wasn’t a real person? All are equally likely.

Did I try to act the scene where Romeo walks into the catacombs to find his dead love?

Absolutely. Gotta keep the Emo-prep in check.

Was someone filming it?

Yes.

Was that someone a security camera?

…

yes.

So Verona was nice. I saw these two statues that, after The David, are the best I’ve seen in Italy. One portrayed lust with a small boy crying on a raft and the other death with a naked woman in a chair. I may have mixed the two up.

VIENNA AUSTRIA!

First. To get to Vienna from Verona is a looooong trip.

What should one do on a looooong trip?

Finally watch the uncut version of “Dances With Wolves”

Boom!

It was good.

I mean, I’m never going to type my true opinions on any movie or show or poetry slam event because I can’t.

The last thing I need when Downton Abby is considering me to play the lead in a spin off series called “Just Gianmarco: I’m in England!” where in the year 2013 I somehow inherit Downton Abby and become best friends with an old butler who lives there in a clashing of the generations comedy of manners but with some out-of-the-blue sentimental moments is for them to see I wrote poorly about someone they know or a project they worked on, etc.

But Dances With Wolves was very good.

Then I watched Sex, Lies and Videotape, which was also good.

Then I read 3 pages of Moby Dick and fell asleep.

Then I watched Big.

J

Vienna was very nice. (I absolutely suck at describing experiences)

I got tickets for the Spanish Riding School’s Sunday show.

All that they did was dressage.

I don’t know what’s more entertaining: Watching horses do dressage or drinking a glass of water at slightly above room temperature.

There was one moment where a horse stood on his hind legs for less than two seconds.

That was the best part.

So walking around Vienna-WHAT JUAN DIEGO FLOREZ IS DOING A CONCERT HERE TONIGHT!

Saw that. Wow. He even did Ah Mes Amis as an encore!

However, the classical attitude is simply ridiculous. There were no anecdotes! There was no-“hey everyone, I’m just the greatest tenor alive right now, AMA!” And he did this very odd thing where after every song he left the stage with his pianist…and then came back a few minutes later for the next song. Can someone explain this to me?

I imagine Juan leaving the stage:

J: Was it okay? I was little bit flat on the high C#

Pianist: Juan! Relax! It’s a C#! Even if you were really flat…Then it’s a frickin high C!

J: So I was flat.

Pianist: Don’t put words into my mouth, Juan.

J: I can’t go back out there.

Pianist: You have to! You have only done one song! We have like…17 more.

J: Okay…but after the next one can we come back here and talk again?

Pianist: I don’t know, Juan, it kind of kills the flow a little bit.

J: WHY CAN’T YOU EVER SUPPORT WHAT I WANT!

Pianist: Okay, Okay, I’m sorry. We can come right back here after the next song.

J: Fine, if that’s what you want.

Pianist: Don’t be like that, Juan. Who’s the greatest living tenor? Who’s the greatest living tenor?

J: I am.

Pianist: That’s right, you are. Now let’s go out there and sing another obscure opera piece!

The next night I saw a Streetcar Named Desire…in German.

So StreetcarMorgen Named Shnitzel.

It was playing at their National Theater and standing room was 2,50 Euros. That’s like $3.30. And I got them 4 minutes before the show. I don’t understand.

I’m pretty sure they changed the location of the show to Miami Beach. Interesting.

(I don’t understand changing the settings of anything…someone counter me)

I’m not done.

I went to the Zoo, saw some bamboos eating pandas.

I actually just type that.

I obviously meant to say giraffes eating pandas.

I went to this maze/labyrinth. I’m typing this from there. Someone please find me.

Then I had this lovely interaction.

(Man with an empty stroller comes up to me sitting on a bench reading my daily page of Moby Dick)

Guy: Hey, you speak English?

GM: Why yes, good sir.

Guy: Let me use your phone to make a phonecall

(I recount my stolen iphone story. He clearly doesn’t believe me)

Guy: Give me a Euro to make a phone call.

GM: I think I’m gonna go.

Guy: Hey, Friend, Fuck you

GM: Why would you say that?

Guy: Why don’t you try it some time.

GM: What does that even entail?

It was traumatic. When he said, “Hey, Friend” I got very excited. I could really use a traveling buddy. But alas, he proceeded to recommend I try the paradoxical act of fucking myself. I don’t mean paradoxical. That just sounded cool. I mean impossible.

I haven’t danced in years but maybe one could be flexible enough to make love to himself. Is that legal? Or so infrequent Leviticus never bothered?

When you are traveling alone-the slightest bad interaction is, like a radius when calculating the area of a circle, multiplied by pi-squared. I feel very vulnerable

The opposite is true, too. A bartender gave me a free shot of jiegermeister and I almost cried at his kindness.

By the way-I LOVE JIEGERMEISTER! Who knew?

(God: Um…I did. I’m omnipotent

Me: Do you mean Omniscient?

God: Oh shit…yeah. That word.)

I did go out one night. And was not let into 5 consecutive nightclubs.

There was some Oh-You-Can’t-Speak-German?-Get-The-Fuck-Out-Of-My-Club going on.

So I went to a karaoke bar.

Karaoke is not very popular in Vienna.

I did, however, get my 3^rd Piano Man rendition in. 2^nd time was better. I was a little bit flat on the high C# I added in.

So Vienna was chill. Don’t get the wrong impression-I am going out a bunch. I have probably been to more clubs/bars in the last 3 weeks than I have in my entire life (minus the last three weeks…duh).

But it is not in me! At a bar, I feel like a very depressed sexual-anthropologist (that can’t be the correct term) observing humanity at it’s lowest. I am mixed with revulsion and longing and ultimately sit in a corner wishing someone would talk to me…

Blah blah blah yaddah yadda yadda…

I know what you really came here for.

I’m almost done with Moby Dick. 70 pages to go.

I’m not sure what exactly happened plot wise from pages 97 to 421.

But soon I can finally say to all my colleagues, “I have read Moby Dick” and get laid like crazy at every bar I go to.

It’s actually pretty good. Does it contain an obscene amount of most likely outdated whale factoids? No. It contains an absurdly obscene amount of certainly outdated whale Snapple facts. But the language is very pretty.

It is good. I’m serious.

So next is Hunger Games 2? The 3^rd Book in the Hitchhiker’s series? Anna Karinininininina?

Probably gonna be Hunger Games.

I’m off to Prague where I hope to see the absinthe museum (which is open late for refreshments), a church made out of bones (as there was an abundance after the plague), and this place called The Bar (where you have a tap at your table AND there is a screen in the middle of the restaurant that displays how much each table has drunk so you can compete. Disastrous idea). 

OH! I may change a few details for those of you who are stalking me.

I think I’m going to skip Lyon, France and instead go to Luxembourg for a day and then night-train it to Zurich, Switzerland. Someone said there was this mountain you climb and ziplines and ropes course and I’m just such a rogue outdoorsman that I can’t resist.

ANDANDAND! DID YOU SEE MAD MEN!? HOLY SHIT. Amazing.

I want to state right now that before the show is over-not this year-maybe next-

Don and Betty are gonna hook up.

No doubt.

20 bucks.

I thought of this ad tag-line for Lucky Strikes. Lucky Strikes: Get Lucky Tonight.

Hire me.

Thank you for reading,

You metaphorically warm my metaphysical heart,

Gianmarco 

May 20th-24th: Milan, Venice and Verona

It’s time to answer some fan-mail.

From personablepersonality@yahoo.com:

Gianmarco! While you are in Venice, make sure to buy lots of your required family souveigners at Murano, famous for it’s glassmanship. Having intricate glass trinkets in your bag for the next 2ish months will not only be awesome but also superawesome.

                                                                        Love,

                                                                                    Your Mind

Dear Mind,

Thank you for the suggestion but I, of course, thought of this at the exact same time as you did. What exactly are you, metaphysically speaking?

From Lonely Planet (famous website and book series for travelers):

GM! Make sure that your last stop in Italy is Verona! On almost every “10 places you must visit in Italy” list, Verona does not even place! The phrase goes, “Save the best for last” but you’ve always been the rebellious type.

                                                            Like,

                                                                        Lonely Planet

Dear Lonely Planet,

            Already there.

Oh, don’t call me GM. Take the one second it would take to type Sir Gianmarco. Okay, LP?

Well, that’s all I can get to today. I’m apologize to the other e-mail I didn’t get a chance to get to (I’m writing you right after this, Mom). I’m in Verona and in two days will be leaving Italy L

Next Stop: Vienna, Austria.

I will have a phone soon and I promise to post at least 2 pictures before the end of this trip.

NAD! I mean ‘AND!’! I went to another Dali exhibit! It was mostly three-dimensional work (that means statues). Good times.

(Oh, yeah, Venice. It is very cool to be in a city where the main transport, I mean, the only transport is boats--until you have to travel from any point A to any point B.

But Murano was incredible. I watched some glass blowing (if you know what I mean) and thought of a glass-blowing-metaphor for my one day acting book that will be release post 1^st Oscar.

 St. Marks square was beautiful and offered three different free concerts last night (creepily standing outside of expensive restaurants. I was. Not the concerts. It would be very odd for three groups of musicians to be creepily standing outside of expensive restaurants.)

Also, The first day I was in Venice, a man who gave me a free ride let me steer his boat (if you know what I mean) (I mean it literally) (or do I?) (I do.)

GM

OH! I am at the halfway point in Moby Dick. My life’s ‘Moby Dick’ is finishing Moby Dick (if you know what I mean) (stop that)

I’m listening to Walter Isaacson’s Bio of Einstein. I understand a solid 5% of it.

Miss you,

GM

(wow…I’m a mess. I went to Milan. I saw Peter Grimes (the Opera)! It was in English but, being an opera, I still didn’t know what the hell was going on! I couldn’t see “The Last Supper” because you have to make reservations a week in advance…silliness.

I went to the rhinoceros shopping center (I think that’s what it’s called) and ate a cup of melted milk and dark chocolate with whip cream on top. I went into the Duomo and saw dead arch-bishops lie in a glass box with a mask on.)

Here’s the order for the rest of my trip:

Vienna

Prague

Salzburg

Munich

Weimar

Dresden

Berlin

Hamburg

Amsterdam

Hague

Brussels

Bruges

Caens

Paris

Lyon

Avignon

Tolous

Bordeaux

Barcelona

Madrid

Lisbon

…Potomac, Maryland… L(((((((((

:* bye

May 15th-20th Florence and Milan

[Insert clever opening that excites while at the same time eliciting deep philosophical reflection here]

I went to the Vatican. Holy shit! (get it!). That place is huge.

The tour guide said that if you looked at each piece of artwork in the Vatican for 60 seconds each it would take you..

(drumroll)

79 days!

NO! That’s around what I thought he’d say. The real answer is 12 years.

Vatican needs to share the love. That’s redonkulous.

So I’m still at the Vatican as I type this…I don’t know why I’m waiting an arbitrary 60 seconds for some of this stuff…the Sistine Chapel is worth 23 seconds tops.

Okay, the Sistine Chapel was incredible but it hurts your neck to enjoy it (that’s what I said). Do you know the painting of Jesus deciding who goes to hell and who goes to heaven (The Judgement, is it called?) (I’m Yoda) (Jesus, what happened to turn the other cheek!)? Well, one of the Pope’s pals was upset that there was too much nudity in Michelangelo’s paintings (note: One frame has Eve either pre or post beej) and complained. In retaliation, Michelangelo drew a demon-thingie in the bottom right corner with the same features as this guy with a snake biting his jonk. Awesome.  

I have since been Florence/Firenze. Why in God/god/gods/w/e’s name do we have a translation of a location? When my train got into Firenze I thought I had missed my stop!

!!!

!

.

Florence was very nice. I sang Billy Joel at a Karaoke bar for the-

Hold up. I’m on a train and they just gave me free Espresso and cookies. Yes.

So I sang Piano Man for the 2^nd time at a Karaoke bar. Then I was going to do Lose Yourself but someone else took it…Maybe I should make it a euro goal to do Piano Man 10 times before I come home? Or a life goal of 100 times. Or! Create a musical of only Billy Joel music where I play from an elevated position and have very attractive people dance below me! Sorry…the Espresso’s got me excited.

I saw the David. Totally delivered. It should be noted that there is a seating area behind the David (can I be called the Gianmarco for now on?) so that one may simple stare at his ass.

Question? Sure. Why are all these statues so ripped? Was everyone in amazing shape?

I have seen one statue of a very heavy man sitting on a large turtle-that’s it. Everyone else must have been doing P90XCXXIV (ROMAN NUMERALS JOKE!)

So Sistine deliever, which is italian for delivered, David delivered but what about the LEANING TOWER OF FUCKING PIZA!

Well…imagine a building. Perhaps look outside and see one for yourself. Then imagine it leaning slightly. No! Not too much. Just slightly. WE JUST HAD THE SAME AWESOME EXPERIENCE.

I did walk up to the top which is fun if you like recreational exercise mixed with nausea.

The best part was seeing people to the classic “I’m holding up the tower!” picture.

The saddest part was attempting said picture all by myself.

I’m off to Milan to see the opening night of an Opera (I forget the name…) at La Scala!

I have black jeans, nike sneakers, and a very wrinkly button down blue shirt. I don’t know what dress code is like but I have a feeling I’ll be underdressing even if I were in a nudist colony. Maybe I’ll just wear my purple Swets (my brand name for a future sweat pants store) and really enjoy myself.

From Milan to Venice to Verona to Vienna to Prague to Salzburg to Germany to Netherlands to Belgium to France to Spain to Portugal to either Greece, Ireland or Scotland? Please let me know if you have an opinion or a thought on this. I’ll have the speicifics for Germany and the like soon.

Thank you for reading. You are beautiful no matter what they say.

GM

Oh yeah! My fucking phone got stolen. Sorry Lena-I’ll send script when I get new one on Sunday unless you can get your hands on Heidi Chronicles! FMLife is beautiful.

May 12-15: Roma

I am sitting in an Apple store just outside of Rome. If you are seeking cultural diversity-do not go to an Apple store. I feel like I’m in DC but everyone is talking very vowel-heavy gibberish. I’m not sure how I am going to get a cab from here and get back to Rome…

The Apple Genius (it’s not Genioso) used a stethoscope to inspect my phone…He has declared it dead at 1:21 pm.

So where have you been?!

I got into Rome on Saturday. Sunday I went all out tourist mode, I visited a bunch of statues and fountains in Rome that were all jolly.

It actually was but I truly can’t remember a single name.

I then went on a 2 hour hunt for a place that was described by one magazine as “The Best Gelato in Roma!”

It was very hard to find…hence the two hour hunt…for a non-moving prey.

Since I am currently reading Moby Dick (I think I can, I think I can) I considered my search for “Gelato Teatro” similar to Captain Ahab’s search for Moby Dick. The only real difference is my journey was on land. And Gelato tastes much better than whale (though, admittedly, I’ve never tried whale. I’ve had lobster ice cream so perhaps there is whale gelato? The best of both worlds? What worlds are those? What am I doing? I don’t know.)

The next day I saw the Coliseum-those gladiator fights were out of control. Apparently, at one showing, the emperor had 40 bears come out of a wooden whale mouth to execute deserters publicly. It’s sort of like a dated “The Voice”. 

I need to watch Gladiator again. And hey-the Hunger Games movie was pretty sick, I’m just sayin’.

After that, I visited a Dali exhibit that had a lot of his original paintings. I do not think I am aesthetically equipped to enjoy art fully…but I enjoy his work. Perhaps it is just because there are a lot of little details to keep my ADD in check or perhaps it’s just weird and I’m trying to appear hiptothehop to myself.

Then there was a cool Leonardo Da Vinci museum as well where they constructed some models from his countless notebooks. If I knew anything about how anything works I’m sure I would have been greatly intrigued.

Then I sinned. I bought a book. I do not need any books. But they had classics in English for reeeeeally cheap. It’s the first 12 stories of Sherlock Holmes. It’s not that big, I swear. It was that or Wuthering Heights. But Moby Dick, Anna Karininininina and Wuthering Heights in one Eurotrip!? I’m only human.

Tomorrow I am going to the Vatican with the Hostel I’m staying at (Yellow) where the Pope will hopefully bless me-as long as I am wearing pants and covering my shoulders.

Three Last Things:

1. I finished Martin Gardner’s Book, “The Why’s of a Philosophical Scrivener”. It was a wonderfully frustrating book. He was one of the leading pioneers of skepticism in the last century, a columnist for Scientific American and was also a philosophical theist/fideist (He passed away in 2010). I think he is stubbornly black and white with regards to pantheism-but he’s a wonderfully witty writer and, based on his resume, one of the last persons you’d think would write about God/god/gods/w/e. For most “Big Questions” he shrugs and says, as most lay(wo)men would say, “Don’t ask me! I don’t know!” but does so with decades of investigation to back up his ignorance.

2. In Roma/Italy, you do not need to tip. Sometimes this is really nice. Sometimes, when the waiter hasn’t stopped by for over 30 minutes, the reality of impotence sets in. You think to yourself, “Goddammit! Fine! Don’t get me another 5^th espresso! I’ma gonna leave you such a shitty…Oh…I mean…I’m going to leave the exact price of the food...which is not only custom but legally required. so there.”

3. I write this hoping you side with me. There were two merging lines at the Coliseum. In one line were about 20 people in wheelchairs (each accompanied by a pusher). This was due to either a tour for people in wheelchairs or an absurd coincidence. Again, These lines were merging. I merged. All of a sudden a feel a wheelchair clipping my ankles. The man in the wheel chair says, “sorry, sorry!” The man pushing him says, “Don’t apologize, it serves him right for cutting. Why don’t you have some respect!” I swear, I swear, I swear I waited my turn. I even was subconsciously generous (how can it be subconscious if I recall it? Shut up) in waiting. I proclaim my innocence. To prevent what was soon to be the first gladiator fight held at the Coliseum since 573 (the year), I quickly thought of some amazing rhetoric on treating everyone like equals, traffic laws, and general customs of not using manned wheelchairs as a weapons of revenge but all that came out was… “you’re an asshole.” (to the guy pushing the wheelchair) then apologizing (to the man in the wheelchair), him apologizing to me, evil looks between the pusher and me, apology to man in the wheelchair again, then crying in a corner…

I SWEAR I WAITED!!!

hold me.

Today is chill day-I clipped nails, shaved, laundry, saw no sights. Every traveler needs one every week or so. Tonight I hope to go to a disco techa. Tomorrow is Vatican. Tomorrow night I head to Florence! That is if I can find a cab at this Italian mall and get back to Rome…

Thank you for reading. Be well.

GM

May 12th: Napoli to Rome...I Hope

...
I dropped my phone in the water while kayaking today.
While is misleading.
After I finished kayaking, eating some Italian potato chips, trying to take a picture of the bag because...just because...I dropped it in the water.
Quick! I thought. Turn it off!
I did but the water made it glitch in a way where it kept turning back on! Then off! Then on! Ad infinitum.
I've hooked it up to my comp and it appears to be working. iTunes (wait a second...when I start a sentence with iTunes-would it be correct to make it ITunes? Food for thought) had a backed up version from January 12, 2012. wtf. We'll see.

So I'm in Napoli still. Waiting for phone to reload my odd collection of Musical Theater, Pavarotti and Hardcore Rap. It's not really hardcore rap...I just wanted to sound cool. It is a LOT of Eminem. Some Tupac...but once again I just have that there to be cool. Mission accomplished.

So I'll get into Rome pretty late. Should I try to go to a Discotech??!!


I've actually learned a few things about travelling in the last week. None of this is profound or new but it's going to inform the rest of this trip:
1. Do active things. One can only look at so many landscapes. The best moments so far have been Kayaking and climbing Mount Edna.
2. Try to meet people. This is not my specialty in life-I'm the sit in a corner and watch Mad Men type of guy.
3. Ration out Mad Men. I've seen them all now. I feel empty inside.
4. Stop watching Mad Men and meet people, Gianmarco.
5. READ MOBY DICK! I SEE YOU PLAYING IPHONE GAMES! Well you can't now so Ha!

Hope everyone is well. Thank you for reading.
GM

May 9th-May 11th

Alright. It's Friday. One week has passed.

You may be award of the Kubler-Ross model stages of death:
Denail, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance.

Denail is italian for denial. It is not a typo.

Well, I have learned that there are 6 stages of the beginning of a 3-month-europe-trip.
The Gianmarco Model of Travel Phases:

Holy Shit Phase: I can't believe I'm actually doing this. Did I pack enough books? Oh, the seats on this airplane are awesome! Oh...that's first class...I hope I'm not in the middle. I'm in the middle. I hope there's not a baby next to me. Hello baby. I'm going to get a lot of sleep on this flight so I start my trip with Bang! Am I really watching The Vow for the third time in a row? What! We landed!

The Currency Exchange Phase: Here's $400. How many euros do I get with that. Oh? I pay interest? No problem. Wait...you only gave me 7 Euros...

The Lost Phase: WHERE ARE THE STREET SIGNS!

There is a God Phase: Ahhh...The views, the smells, the foods. I love life.

The I Get It Phase: I get it! Italy is beautiful. Wow...more paintings. Another church! It's so beautiful! I get it! Large castle. Woah! Woopdeefrickindoo!

The Why The Fuck Do My Clothes All Smell Bad I Just Washed Them Yesterday Phase: Why the fuck do all my clothes smell bad I just washed them yesterday!

I've gone through them all.
Put my clothes in the laundry two times this time.
Just Gianmarco.


I took the boat in from Palermo to Napoli. Yesterday I saw the Duomo (See: I Get It Phase), a big castle, the Archaeological museum and then went to the two best pizza places in Napoli and got a Margarita pizza at both. An entire pizza. Two of them (See: There is a God Phase).
I tried Melone Gelato...Sample things before you buy them.

Side: I once had Lobster flavored ice cream. It was amazing.


Today I went to Pompeii. The greatest part was the paintings in the brothel. Scratch that. The greatest part was the elevated phallus in the road that pointed which way the brothel was.
Pompeii also has lemon trees that grow grape-fruit-sized lemons. Daily Snapple Fact.

Tomorrow I go to Rome (I may do Capri in the morning).
I'm hoping to go to the Vatican on Sunday to Mass (c'mon-it's gonna be epic), check out their museum, get blessed by the Pope and then join a protest for gay marriage.
My views, like Obama, will evolve over the course of the day.
North Carolina, WTF?
(I'm a little bit late on both of these events...
Sorry to get all political on my normally objective blog.)

So I'm in Napoli now. Amazing Hostel-House of the Sun. Carla, who just saw the way I hung up my wet laundry, said I have shamed my name. Fortunately she keeps calling me Gianfranco, so it's alright.

I finished the first Hitchhiker's Guide. Now I'm on Moby Dick (I think I can, I think I can...) and reading Martin Gardner's "Why I'm Not a Marxist".

Be well, write if you have any questions or you want me to explore any other politically charged themes.

Like,
Gianmarco

May 7th-9th: Lipari to Volcano to Palermo to Napoli!

Wow. Lots of traveling these last couple days.
I chilled in Lipari for a hot second only to find out the Sulfur baths (the reason I came to Europe at all) are in the Volcano islands.

Sulfur, for the few non-chemists who can keep up with this blog, is that smell that happens when something is wrong with the inner workings of a public restroom. Rotting eggs comes closest to capturing its essence with some Zoo Doo mixed.
Zoo Doo is something zoos used to sell for presents. It is a bucket full of different animals' poop to use as fertilizer. What happened to that?
So imagine that smell. Then imagine that smell is a liquid. Now imagine that smell is a warm liquid with very squishy mud at the bottom. Obviously you want to pay three euros to swim in it.
And that's what I did.
It was horrifying. I still smell faintly of it despite having  taken three showers since.
After that-you get the opportunity to go into the Hot Springs. Be not fooled by the name, however. The hot springs are actually incredibly cold and I did not see a single spring. At a few select areas, bubbles came out of the water and those spots were about a degree warmer than freezing (Fahrenheit).

Fun fact: I once quit a swimming team because the water was too cold to practice in. Just Gianmarco.

So. Boat from Volcano to Messina then train to Palermo.

This morning I ran to the Orto Botanico-bottanical gardens.
There were a lot of different kinds of cacti. I imagined a superhero/villain called cactus man. I am sure power rangers have already done this at some point.

Then the Galleria d'Arte Moderna, which means: Gallery of something something.
I tried to take a picture of a statue of a woman holding a severed head. I was caught. I told them I was texting someone. It was the most poorly executed lie ever told in Europe. There was possibly a worse one told when I forgot my Mom's birthday a few years ago...but that was in America.

I then got to eat a Panino Con Milza and a Panino Con Panelle. I was told I had to get one while I was here by a hostel person. They lamented that I would be leaving Palermo so soon and would probably only get a chance to eat one as they were very filling. They do not know me.

I don't know what Milza or Panelle is but it was either look that up or write this blog. They were delicious so if it's frog ball meat-I don't care.

Tonight I am taking an overnight train to Napoli. Then Pompeii. Then Rome. Then Florence. Then Milan. Then Verona. Then Venice. Then AUSTRIA!
I've actually booked all my Italy hostels. It took 2 hours.

Thank you for reading. Come back soon.

Side Note: In honor of Mad Men I bought some Lucky Strikes. Do these things exist in America still? If they do...well then...that was a waste

Side Note Due (Italian for: better Side Note): The flower sellers are fucking crazy. They will put the flower in your hand then accuse you of taking their flower without paying for it. That's what I told the cops and I'm sticking to it.

Smooches

Publicist Woes

My publicist called today and said:
GIANMARCO! Everyone is dying for your next post. You never write.

Oh yes? Everyone who?

Everyone me.

Mom. I will post when I get a chance, I promise. I'm busy right now.

NO you're not! You're watching Mad Men.

How the hell do you know that!?

I got you!

Goddammit!

(while this is a real conversation it is also an excerpt of the movie based on the play based on the one man show based on the book of this blog website. The movie is called "Black Swan II: No Relation to Black Swan")

May 6th-May 7th Giardini Naxo to Lipari

Alright. This has got to be quick. I have 50% battery and I want to watch Mad Men.

Surely you own a charger, Gianmarco?

Why yes I do but it is for an American plug.

Surely you bought an adaptor, Gianmarco?

I did but it only has two prongs, my computer charger has three.

Why would you do that, Gianmarco?

My Dad said the third prong didn't matter-that I could just have it hanging off the side of the adaptor.

That sounds safe!

I know! But when I tried it-the charger started making a weird buzzing sound and my computer shocked me when I touched it.

..., FYL

I know.



So. It's hard for me to focus on my trip tonight because I finished The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest. Holy shit. Cried a lot. AND did you know that his 'wife' (can't explain-mad men!) has a computer that has the first 200 pages of the 4th book? (Stieg Larsson died from a heart attack going up 7 flights of stairs to his office because the lift was broken. He anticipated completing 10 books in the series. He also outlined the 5th and 6th. It's tragic.)
I feel seriously depressed when series end. Post Harry Potter-cried for 10 minutes while I spooned the book. His Dark Materials (Golden Compass)-sat in the subway for 10 minutes crying. Wayside school series-do you remember that? I didn't cry but I read them like 3 times each. I only allow myself 10 minutes of crying per sad event. Except when I watched Brokeback Mountain. That and Black Swan are my favorite films. (focus, Gianmarco) (sorry.)

So book-wise-I'm going to start Hitchiker's Guide to the Universe (Then Moby Dick I swear!) and I'm on Martin Gardner's Chapter on "Why I am not a Determinist or a Haphazardist"




BACK TO TRIP
Last night I went out with Gianni (of the Gianni house) and others who were working there. I pounded 1.3 beers but then there were sounds of chaos from the streets. Apparently some Italian soccer team beat some other Italian soccer team and won some Italian soccer thing and people were going NUTS.
Champagne popping, huge black and white flags (the team's colors. Unless people were celebrating the referees?), lots of little bikes, and those horn things that make the loudest, worst sound at the press of a button.
WHO INVENTED THESE. WHAT THE FUCK.

So this morning I went to a beach in Giardini Noxos. I tried to skip a rock. I failed miserably. I decided this was a sign that I had to leave. Took a boat to the island, Lipari. Some mayor/governor/something won the election tonight. He (the winner) is two blocks away from my hostel. Celebrations. Champagne popping, lots of little bikes, and THE HORNS. STOP FOLLOWING ME. YOU HAVE 0 REDEEMING QUALITIES.

Tomorrow I'm going to go to the Volcano islands to take a Sulfur bath. It's gonna get stinky. Supposedly it's good for you? We'll see. After that I'm off to Polermo, my last stop in Sicily.

Thank you for reading, let me know if you have any questions.
Smooches,
Gianmarco


Oh. Note. Many of my fans (...leah) have asked why I haven't posted pictures!
Here's why.
Did you ever read To Kill a Mocking Bird?
(Leah?)
Atticus Finch, my role model, has to shoot a rabid dog. He children learn that he is actually an excellent marksman, once known as one-shot-somethingorother when he was younger. They wonder (it may just be one child...I read it in 8th grade) she/he/ze wonders why her father did not ever share this talent. Some random neighbor lady says that Atticus sees it as a God-given talent and thus not worthy of bragging about, exhibiting it, celebrating it, flaunting it, getting laid because of it, etc.
Atticus is to shooting rabid dogs as I am to taking poorly lit pictures of Italian landscapes. We can do it when we have to but we don't want to show off. Forgive us for our humility.

:*

May 5th-6th: Catania-Giardini Naxos-Taormina

Bongiorno!
(that's corny)

Okay so a couple thoughts on my newly born blog since I've been walking A LOT:
1. I'm going to curse. I was talking to a friend recently about transparency (not like Fantastic Four-like there is no such thing as privacy with facebook, google, phone hacking, people installing cameras in my bathroom) (screw the rule of three) and how it will affect our social lives. He mentioned some friends of his (actors) often (probably just once) sent videos over the web portraying personal performances that most parents would prefer be private. "How Odd!" he exclaimed "that people who one day want to be 'famous' would post this when presumably they wouldn't want this as part of their public persona in their fantastical improbable futures". I supplicated his pontification, exclaiming, "We find ourselves stark naked yet shackled to pre-transparency morality". Then Bertrand Russell appeared in the sky, disproving many of his own thoughts, and gave us both Rhodes Scholarships to Oxford. Back to my first point. I'm going to curse and generally try to speak from something as close to my true point of view as I can muster. Why? Because it would be futile to pretend I'm anything I'm not. I mean, how many people have watched my stand-up? (the answer is 211 as of 7:11 PM, Sicily) (197 of those is me checking how many people have watched my stand-up) The cat out of the bag (perhaps a polite purse?). Also, to quote Eminem, a prominent influence on the development of my moral code, "I just don't give a fuck".
2. Occasionally I'm going to try to be serious. It's probably not going to happen but if it does...don't freak out. I'll say something to undermine whatever it is I said almost immediately
3. For real, I'm gonna try to not undermine what I say if it strays into the serious realm.
4. I'm pretentious.
5. Dammit. I tried. It's a work in progress.

SO back to Italy.
Yesterday I was still in Catania. I woke up early and went into the fish market. I saw a very old man wash his hands in a pool of dead fish. mmm. There were also baby lambs that were sliced in half. It made me want to become a vegetarian. Later that night I saw some lamb chops. It made me want to only eat lamb for the rest of my life.
For real, I don't know if I would eat meat if I had to prepare it myself. My voice teacher's husband, Dimitri Petropoulos, grew up in Greece (wow, that's a tangent...) (no wait!). Where he grew up, all young boys were given a baby pig to raise. Somewhere in their teens, after growing up with said pig for many years as a companion, their 'passage/coming-to-adulthood/vagueterm' was to slaughter the pig. Holy shit. To become a MAN would you rather kill your best-friend-pig or go to Hebrew School for a whole bunch of years and then have all your friends buy your presents? Okay. I'd kill the pig. But still! I don't know if I'd eat meat if I had to kill animals. Or I'd be one of those vegetarians who lets himself eat bacon.
Ethically and morally (I've been explained the difference but I forget) speaking-I think eating meat is indefensible. Gustatorily speaking-prosciutto is amazing.

On that food note, I have gained 72 pounds since I've been here (it's been almost 3 days). I tried to take it light yesterday and order some Prosciutto and melone for lunch. What did they bring me? Prosciutto and melone and a HUMONGOUS LOAF OF BREAD FOR FREE. If you put bread within 3 yards of my mouth-hole I will eat it. If it is free I will not be subsequently arrested.

Final notes on Catania:

WHERE'S THE FUCKING STREET SIGNS! I get it. It's very fancy to carve them (very) infrequently into walls in a way that is only visible from 1 foot away. You're bellissima. I, however, am now in Greece because I took a wrong turn on...let's see what is it...where's the goddamn sign...WHERE AM I.

Rosetta Stone actually helped me a little. I know how to say straight, right, left, eat, water, I, thank you, ball, and tie. Totally worth the $300.

speaking of thank you. I have probably said thank you (Grazie) more times in the last three days than I have in my entire life. You can take that two different ways:
1. I'm incredibly ungrateful.
2. I've asked for directions A LOT.

NOW Giardini Naxos and Taormina.
I'm staying at Gianni House. WOO! It's awesome.
I ate some Gelato. I bought this cardboard Sponge Bob that supposedly danced when near music. It's actually operated by a string but I didn't know that when I paid 5 Euros for it. I opened it to have it dance to my iphone and there was a card in it that said "HA!". I'm a fool.
Today (by the way...I've been mixing up stuff I did today and yesterday...don't try to keep track) I went to Mount Edna. The Jeeps that takes you all the way up was not operating. I hiked it. There was a lot of snow. I didn't quite make it to the top (my bus was leaving). I heard there was someone who once got 100 feet from the top of Everest but had to give up because he would have died if he finished. Maybe he and I can one day have a beer (two straws) and share our failures. Running down that snowy mountain is the closest I will ever come to skiing. I got sunburn. Usually snow and sunburn don't go together. They don't form Reese's Pieces when mixed.

Tomorrow I will hopefully take a train to Milazzo, a boat to the Aeolian islands and the next day do some kind of mud bath thingie (which I read somewhere is radioactive...I should probably do some more research).

Tonight, Gianni is making all his hostel-ers dinner!
Almost done with Hornet's Nest and Martin Gardner explaining WHY he's not an aesthetic and ethical relativist.

Let me know if you have any questions, comments, or want to book me for a broadway show.
Kisses.
GM

Whoops, I Forgot

I did bring too many books. Don't worry. I will talk to people occasionally.
BUT
I'm currently reading The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest by Stieg Larsson and The Whys of a Philosophical Scrivener by Malcolm Gardner.


AND
Food Update: I bought chocolates that have the equivalent to half an espresso shot inside of them. Not equivalent caffeine wise...I don't really mean equivalent. I mean there is a fucking 1/2 espresso shot inside of them. Put it in your mouth all at once (that's what he said). I tried to bite it (that's what she said) and ultimately I had to throw away one of my shirts (that's what I said).

FIRST DAY!

I know everyone says this but, "I know everyone says this but I never thought I'd write a blog". Today I began my Euro trip.

Isn't the title of my blog clever? nEUROtic Travels. I capitalized the EURO so that it really hits you. Ever since I started watching Mad Men I think I have advertising abilities. The same way I used to watch Law and Order and thought I had policing abilities. Or the Office and office abilities. I have none of those abilities. See how I bolded the none? Really hits you.

Just in case you were planning to-DO NOT write a grammar textbook with this blog as your sole source of grammatical rules. No one will buy it. I might because it's cool to think someone cared about my blog so much that they wrote a book solely based on the grammatical functioning of my blog. And I'm sure your Mom would buy it because it would be really rude not to buy your son's/daughter's/ze's textbook. All I'm saying is...whatever, write it if you won't. I take it all back.

So. My trip. I was in the middle of 5 seats from DC to Rome. I think I slept 20 seconds. I was forced to watch The Vow. Ow (RHYMING!). Really, where was The Artist? The Avengers? The next Batman movie? C'mon United.

Got to Rome. The flight from Rome to Catania was in an hour and a half. Not enough time. I cut about 3,141.59 people with their visas (I had to get my checked bag!) to make the flight in time. Luckily they checked my bag for that flight 30 minutes before the flight (I believe policy is one hour here). (Get over it, I use a lot of parenthesis). Somehow I made it but between you and me (this is assuming anyone other than me is reading this so perhaps me and me) these Italians need to brush up on their English.

Got to Catania, took a cab to hostel (sorry...). It's very nice. Went to huge monastery, which I learned is now a University. It was very confusing for a little bit until some college student said to me, "What the hell are you doing here?" At least that's what I thought she meant. All she said was, "Mammamia! Marinara Sauce!" Then I went to the Ursino Castle/Museum. By this point I was so tired I think I hallucinated for the first time in my life. Everyone was speaking a different language. No, but for real, I saw a painting in the museum there that was not there. I decided I had to sleep.

Went back to room to sleep. Didn't sleep. Watched some Mad Men instead. What an amazing show. Went to eat a light dinner. Instead of a light dinner I ate the equivalent of 3 loaves of bread. Do not attempt an Atkin's Diet in Italy. Don't attempt an Atkin's Diet. I heard a TED talk about it sucking. I love TED talks because they make me feel lazy and unintelligent in under 20 minutes.

So. Tomorrow. Train to Taormina. Staying for 3 days-ish. Mnt. Edna. Beaches. Thousands of italian models. Maybe the Casting Director for Downton Abbey will be there and say, "Hey stop by England so you can be a lead on Downton Abbey. At least that's what I thought he meant. All he said was, "Cheerio, crumpets!"

Thank you for reading.

Amen.