Braggart

I'm currently taking the second of the five classes I need to finish my Associates degree--three of which are math.

I'm not a huge fan of the numbers game, but I decided I would suck it up and plow through to get the piece of paper I've wanted to get for a looong time. I can't transfer back into ISU to get my four year degree without the math, so here we are.

When I went to take the placement test a few months ago, I only tested into the second lowest math class. No big shock there. I haven't taken a math class since high school unless you count the statistics class I passed by the skin of my teeth back at ISU.

Last week we took the fourth test of the semester. This one was supposed to be, in my professor's words, "the really tough one".

And what did I get on it?

95, bitches.

Ninety-frimframmin'-five.

Not only that but, because he decided to grade this test on a curve because of the "poor showing of grades", I found out that I had the highest score in the class.

Of course, Jim was quick to point out that I just fucked up the curve for everyone else. Somehow that made it all the more sweet. Is that mean? Do I care?

This is so unexpected. I never thought I would do well in a math class. The first three tests went fairly well but my grades have been steadily getting worse as we take each one. I got a 90, 88, then an 83. Naturally I expected that I would gradually get lower on this one.

But NOPE.

I'm just going to go ahead and congratulate the hell out of myself for the rest of the day. Who knows when this will happen again?

Had my first hospital call last night

And it went alright.

I got to work with one of our medical advocates. What a woman! She is just amazing--so calm, educated, caring and just really really good at what she does.

She was a great teacher to me last night. I felt like I came away with a better understanding of how to be a victim's advocate.

I got the page after I'd already been asleep for a couple of hours, so I scrambled to throw some clothes on (thankfully we don't have to dress up to do a hospital visit), and got my ass over there.

On the way there, a million things went through my head. I didn't know who was there waiting for me or what the scenario was going to be.

All I could think was that something bad happened to someone and it was my job to try and make the situation as easy and comfortable as possible--if it was possible. I couldn't let my emotion cloud what I was there for.

It's just really hard to not think about my girls and how I would deal if they were hurt in such a heinous and disgusting way. Or about friends that have had to deal with sexual assault, rape, molestation...

As soon as I walked in though, it was gone. I felt ready to deal with whatever they threw at me.

And I did.

The only thing I didn't like was leaving. My job, at this point in my volunteering, is to be there for support, give resources and be done.

I'm anxious to "level up" and work more on the prosecution's end. As much as I enjoy helping people in the thick of it, I really want to help put the perpetrators behind bars.

I'm working on it.

Vacation Review-Day Four: FLORENCE

Laura and I got up early on Wednesday to catch the train to Florence. We had alread booked our pensione on the cheap. 80 euro a night, and we didn't need to share a shower.



Our room was small, but clean and airconditioned.


The bathroom was a trip. I could have showered while on the toilet if I wanted to.


The two of us just strolled around, consulting a guide book I brought with me for a good place to eat.






It was sooo hot and we got tired of trying to read the map, so we settled on the first cute cafe that didn't look too expensive.
This is inside, but we sat outside so I could enjoy some more of those lax smoking area boundaries.


We both had the chicken salad and wine, and it was really good.


Florence was beautiful. Very crowded and a bit dirty, but still beautiful. There were a few side streets we walked down that made me feel a little on edge, but I don't think we were ever in any real kind of danger. I actually felt safer that night when we walked around.

This is just out and about, wandering. We hit Ponte Vecchio, the Duomo and the fake David. Had we another day, I would have insisted on seeing the real thing, but we didn't. And I don't really feel like I missed out. Next time though, I'll definitely go inside Uffzi Gallery.

















































Um....not sure where they were going with this one:



Italians like to take an evening stroll after a late dinner. There were tons of families out with thier children. And dogs. People take their dogs with them everywhere. I loved it, though it made me miss my children and dogs even more.

On the way to dinner we stopped at this place where you can buy a glass of wine and hang out in front.


Where I got the one and only picture of my cousin and I together (that's me on the right).


The woman who took this for us had her little fluff ball of a pup with her. When we told her how cute we thought he was, she told us that he was her baby. In broken English she explained, "Dog first. Husband second."

We had dinner at this place, and I had the best tiramasu I've ever tasted here as well.


Florence at night:


Shop window I thought was cool:








We got back to our hotel about 11:30 knowing we had to get up really early. Laura was headed home and I was on my way to Rome--alone. I was super excited, but a little anxious. It was probably because I was starting to get really run down, but I wasn't about to sleep away the experience of a lifetime.

Next stop: Rome!

Vacation Review-Day Three: SACILE

My third day in Italy was spent taking a well-deserved break. Laura had the genuis forethought to build in a day to take it easy. Of course, had I wanted to get back out there, it was completely up to me, but I was kind of happy for the light day. It was fun to see the cute little town near her and nice to not be rushed by train schedules and exhausted by ridiculous amounts of walking.

We got up and had breakfast (capuchino and brioche) at a local cafe while we planned our trip to Florence the next day.



It was here that I encountered the "hole in the floor" toilet facilities.




Not a fan. I haven't peed like that since walking home drunk in college. Thank the babyjesus I didn't have to poop.

We walked around a farmer's market, and I got some olives and spices as well as a cheap sundress and an obnoxious ballerina/bellydancer costume for Audrey (sadly, they didn't have one in Mina's size).





We got our train tickets to Florence, and mine for Rome later in the week, and headed off to the miliary base, where Laura's husband works, to check email and get those tax free cigarettes I mentioned yesterday.

The view walking away from the downtown area.


Next we drove out to a local vineyard to taste and purchase yummy and CHEAP wines.











Baby grapes!


Inside:






I got three bottles of fantastic wine for 18 euro! I even got one free bottle, but I had to drink it before I left Italy as I was only allowed to take three home with me.

We went to lunch after the vineyard to a local place Laura and her husband like to go. We were not only the only Americans in the place, but the only women. The whole place was filled local blue collar-type workers, and every last one of them turned around to stare at us when we walked in.

Remember this is a tiny little "nowhere" town, not near the base. It's not a touristy area. I think the guys in there were just dumbfounded as to why we would choose to eat at this particular place.

I had the best lunch ever! Gnocchi with cream sauce, spinach and ham. Holy shit, was it good. I could eat that every day for the rest of my life...except that I would weigh 400 pounds in approximately two weeks.

A couple of guys sat down next to us. One of which Laura and I dubbed the 'working man's Fabio'. He kept trying to get us to drink some of his wine, but we politely refused. I'm pretty sure he bore a hole right through the top of my dress with his eyes, but whatever. He actually ended up buying our lunch! We didn't exchange but a few words of broken English (though my cousin is pretty fluent in Italian), and this guy bought our meal for us.

So, I got a free bottle of wine and a free lunch all in the span of 2 hours. Not bad.

My one regret is that I didn't get a picture of our benefactor. I'm still kicking myself over that.

We made it home and had a wonderful time just sitting on Laura's front porch talking and eating dinner.

A few shots of their home:






Their street:


and just a pretty flower that grows in front of their house:


After dinner, we went out for gelato. I had raspberry and dark chocolate. I can hardly look at this picture without wanting to lick the monitor. It was THAT good.


I will end this post with a lovely example of local flavor:




Tomorrow: Florence!