When In Rome...

...have a Guinness

So do you all remember those times in high school when you felt the outcast?
Maybe your shoes were out of fashion or your hairstyle too uncool or maybe even your sweater was just the wrong color or somesuch similar nonsense?

Well...

That would describe the feelings the "Single Ladies Club" had about me on the Sicily/Southern Italy tour.  While calling home to make sure Andy had mailed off my mom's Mother's Day card (it's not that I don't trust you, just you know, being my paranoid self, sorry), I mentioned to Andy, and now I mention to the world at large, that I was so very happy to finally be one dinner shy of being done with the high school shenanigans.  I was not invited to any of these ladies' reindeer games.  Neither was MJ for that matter.  We were not cool enough, it would seem.

Or maybe some jealousy?

I was the youngest person on the tour.  No two ways about it.  The fact that I got along famously with both the guide and the assistant did not help matters, especially as the aforementioned SLCs were after them.  (Both males, in their 40s/50s, resembling actors, really.)  Rumors started:  I had two boyfriends, I was in trouble with the law, I had had an affair and that would be why I was traveling with my ex mom-in-law...or something similar...it was all so very strange.  I think there was something about the mafia as well, I was obviously persona non grata.

Funny thing?  Unlike those SLCs, I left high school 15 years ago. 

So I had a blast the last night.  After dinner?  After watching all the ladies throwing themselves at the guides?  Buahahaha!  I was one of the select few that was invited out to the Irish pub, not them.  Okay, I may have left high school, but I am still 12 years old. Naany nanny na!

No, I did not sleep with the tour guides to earn my place at the table, thankyouverymuch.  Though I am quite sure if the tour had gone on a few more days, that would have been the next story on the bus to travel down to me.  SIGH...

Anyhow, I am now in Rome, one day away from joining up with the city tour with MJ.  I would be wandering around like a mad woman, but there was this thing with a rented electric motor bike/car, MJ driving, one of the ten thousand phallic symbols in the Borghesie (sp) gardens and my ankle that I will recount at a later date as there is a line for this computer (free internet at the Hotel Italia!).

Laters!