the honeymooners

If I had to capture our trip to Italy in one picture, it would be ... ah, yeah.

One of the best things about going and getting yourself all married is the customary vacation that follows. For ours, we took a long-postponed trip to Italy. We spent most of our time in Florence, with a couple days in Rome and a day trip to Siena thrown in.

Ty had already spent a good amount of time in all three cities, but it was my first time in Italy, so we did a lot of the stuff you do during your maiden visit to a foreign land. We also drank a lot and ate a lot and got to see some of our friends living in Europe.

I will not bore y’all with a day-by-day itinerary like I did my poor mother, but here are some of my observations from the trip:

• Rome was way cooler than I thought it would be. That probably sounds bad, but whatever. I was expecting something more like the “oh, this is New York City but foreign” let-down I felt when I went to Paris last summer, but Rome was stubbornly tied to its historical and cultural roots. There you are, walking through this vibrant contemporary city, when you come upon ruins from an ancient temple sticking up in the middle of a piazza like an antiquated cowlick. Turns out I like antiquated cowlicks.
• Gelato in the U.S. is not gelato.
• Pizza in the U.S. is not pizza.
• Out of all the big Renaissance masters with ninja turtles named after them, Michelangelo is still the only one I’m hot on.
• I’m also pretty hot for old Italian cathedrals, and no pictures could ever, ever do them justice. Out of the ones we visited, the Duomo di Siena was by far my favorite. The photos are neat enough, but they fail to capture the “holy fuck” feeling that comes over you when you walk in there. The black and white marble columns, the mosaic floors, the illuminated manuscript room with the absolutely awe-inspiring, Moorish-influenced ceiling of golds and reds, blacks and the deepest blues… this cathedral isn’t playing around. And I’m not even religious.
• The Chianti Classico region would be a very nice place to retire. Or relocate to tomorrow. Either/or.

Photos, for those of you who can stand more of those.

married people

I'm glad I hitched my apple wagon to your star

A couple weeks ago, Ty and I got married.

(Cheers! Hand-clapping!)

I know I’m biased, but I thought that it was a pretty kick-ass affair. I was amazed by how lovely a day it was, amazed by how many people ran with our insane costumed theme, amazed by the outpouring of warm and fuzziness, amazed by how much fun the whole thing was.

I was also amazed by the mustaches and the number of hook arms.

Thanks to all of you who came out and celebrated with us. (Bonus points if you celebrated whilst wearing a ridiculous hat.) And thanks to all the folks who sent along their snapshots from the day. Our official photos are on the way courtesy of our wonderful friend Aimee, but in the meantime, I’ve set up a stream of my favorite shots from the day for you guys to check out if’n you’re into that sorta thing.

Photos! Woohoo!

gone firenzin’

Ciao, bitches!

As most of you know, Ty and I are doing the ol’ hitcheroo on Saturday, followed by what ought to be a hot-damn, kick-ass vacation in Roma e Firenze.  So I’ll not be blogging for a bit.

Not that I’ve been blogging much lately, anyway. But now I’ll have an excuse.

So hugs to you all … and look forward to posts about foreign escapades in a couple weeks.

Do I dare to eat a peach?

I’m 30 today, bitches. Yeehaw!

The shock, followed by the resignation.

I guess I’m supposed to say how it seems like only yesterday that I was a bright-eyed college student with my whole world-oyster ahead of me, but that would be a goodly bit of bullshit. A lot has happened since then–good, bad, and in the middle–and sometimes I barely recognize 21-year-old me. Other times I wonder if 30-year-old me would even like 21-year-old me.

Then I wonder if 30-year-old-me and 21-year-old me would get in a cat fight, and, if so, who would win.

(I think 30-year-old me would kick some ass. I work out these days, you know.)

goal setting

I like to set meaningful goals for myself so that I continue to be a productive member of society.

My goal for today is not to sweat all over myself.

Marmosetherapy

I’ve started dedicating one of my browser tabs to marmoset images so that when I’m feeling cranky, overwhelmed, or generally bedraggled I can click on it and feel a little bit better.

This one’s my favorite. Just look at that crazy ass little primate face.

"no me digas!"

The view from up here

I had a check-up this morning, and I’m an inch taller than I was a year ago.  Seriously. I had her measure twice.

My new proportions promise to make me a formidable physical opponent to 5th graders everywhere.

the gang

Watching over me at the workplace.

are you in your right mind?

Check out the dancer-person and see what direction she is spinning in.

Find out what it means here …

And get your grain of salt here.

What’s on my mind

Last night, I dreamed that the professor of the “Queer Theory in Shakespeare” class I am trying to get into this semester was a contestant on last season’s Top Chef. (She only made it to round 4.)

Interpretations welcome.