Getting ditched in Italy

Sucks.

Last night our school sponsored us tickets to a Monday night Ragga festival, and I wanted to go. I went home in the afternoon and laid down for a nap, and when my roomates left they failed to mention that it was time to go to the show. I woke up about ten minutes after they'd left, threw on my clothes and spent the next hour getting lost looking for the concert. I probably walked three miles after it was all said and done, trying to find the entrance to this park. I'll never forget where it is now, that's for sure.

When I showed up I tried to call one of my roomates to find out how to get my ticket, because the ticket booth was swarmed with hundreds of Roman hippies trying to get in. Turned out after all of my hiking and trying to figure out my location, the coordinator (Sophie) had given away the rest of the tickets to people at the gate.

It was fifteen euro to get in, so I decided to just call it a night and go to bed. What an awesome blog adventure. Sean doesn't make it to a show and goes to sleep early.

Oh! New developments! The psychotic birds that wake us up every morning with their horrific shrill cries are gone!!!

YAY!

Now, instead of Italian banshee birds, we have nail guns, hammers breaking floor tiles, and American pop music on the radio of the construction workers currently destroying the apartment across the courtyard from us. I've started constructing a list of phrases to yell at them when I wake up and get really pissed off about it.

I've been trying to upload my first week pictures from Italy, and my computer is being a cranky bitch. Soon'come. Soon.

-Sean