The Vatican-can

Art restoration, the highlight-class of every week, decided to take a day trip to Rome this past weekend. No wonder I love this class.

We started out at a special exhibit for Bellini. Ironically, one has to travel to Rome to see art from Venice. Restoration for Venetian art is incredibly interesting, considering the increased humidity of the environment.

After the exhibit, we joined up with another class to see the Forum, which was amazing of course (including the part where wer walked past the Colosseum and the ten or so men dressed up as gladiators much to my amusement), and then we went (drum roll please) to the Vatican!

Yes, above is a picture of me looking like a five year old on Christmas. There was a light on in the Pope's window. So yes, I have seen the same beams of light that the Pope has seen. Like Christmas.

Inside Saint Peter's was absolutely gorgeous, but most excitingly, I went to confession there and in English no less! Since I came to Italy, I haven't found a single place to go to confession--one of my favorite sacraments--and I was overjoyed to not only get to go, but to go in English and at the Vatican. Again. Like Christmas.

Visiting Rome has been one of the highlights of my time here. Ufortunately, I only got the chance to see about 1% of what I wanted to see. I guess I'll just have to go back on my own dime sometime. (Easter anyone?)

Catastrophe: November 5, 2008

Two days ago was Guy Fawkes' Day, Obama was officially elected our next President, and one of my best friends since fourth grade passed away. She was taken suddenly and unexpectedly--there was a tumor in her heart. This post is in her honor and in her memory.

She started out life in a difficult place. She was abused by a man who cut off part of her tail and broke the remaining bit (leaving it to look like a shepherd's crook for the rest of her days), then gave her to children who repeatedly threw her against a wall for fun. A woman saved her, brought her to the vet's office. I walked through a monsoon which poured sand from the Gobi desert to meet her, and despite the fact that I had wanted a dog, I fell in love the moment we met.

When I adopted her, I held her for hours at a time--she was starved for love and attention. I was allergic. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see, but it didn't matter because she was mine.

Catastrophe was the pickiest eater that ever was. She loved food and wouldn't eat anything for longer than a month. The exceptions were manicotti shells, Popeye's Chicken, Twizzlers and bread. These she couldn't get enough of.

Her eyes twitched from brain damage, she drank boiling water and she watched the ceilings as if she could hear God.

She was always up for a game of tag. She had a love affair with my history textbook when I was in sophomore year of high school. She thought it was brilliant to hide in curtains and play in boxes too small for her. She loved to eat plastic. She got lost in the dark, was afraid of crickets, silverfish and spiders, and always tried to take my dad's chair at the dinner table.

She followed me everywhere, tried to save me from showers, scratched at the door if I was on the other side without her.

She always came to you if you cried. She didn't know how to do anything but love.

She was loved by my entire family. We will always love her, we will always remember her and we will always miss her.