My parents arrived on Wednesday morning and met me at the studio. We went for a cafe and cornetto and caught up on life. Its amazing how their presence completely relaxes me. Some of the only people in the world that I don't have to watch what I say and do. I had class for the rest of the day and then they took me out to dinner. True to form, I got the restaurant at 7pm and my parents had already met a group of British boys and were both off their rockers drunk. I quickly caught up and it was a successful night. After a few hours of drinking, I picked Tish up for the train station. Three people that I love very much all in one place. Doesn't get much better.
The rest of the week was spent drinking, eating, drinking, drinking, and shopping. On Friday night, my parent's welsh gang arrived. About twenty of them. We had a loud and drunken dinner in the basement of a Roman restaurant on Friday night, then my other two friends arrived from Madrid, Dobs and Devon. All four of us young'ns went to Scholars (our local Irish pub) and continued the debauchery, getting home around 5am.
Saturday was the day of the rugby game. Unfortunately we didn't get tickets for Dobs and Devon but Tish and I got to go with my parents and all their friends. Apparently the game wasn't very good (I don't have anything to compare it to) and the stadium was tiny but it was easily the craziest event I've ever been to. Everyone was dressed in red and green (the Welsh colors), or as sheep (the welsh prostitute), or as giant daffodils (the Welsh flower). We began drinking in the early afternoon and then the singing started. If you didn't know, the Welsh love to sing, and they're actually pretty good at it.
The game was pretty slow but Tish and I entertained ourselves by checking out the phenomenal perfection of the Welsh rugby player. It was like a collection of all the sexiest men on earth on one rugby pitch. Stu got us really good seats so we could actually see the rippling muscles underneath the players' shirts. Wales won, but only just, and then the celebrations began. The entire stadium descended on Rome and took over all the pubs with song and drink. It was something that I've never experienced before and I can't wait until my next game. At midnight, I was STILL hungover from the night before so Tish and I headed back for a relatively early night.
On Sunday I had some homework to do and then we met the gang in front of the Pantheon for "a drink". Yeah right, you knew it wouldn't just be one drink. We ended up staying there for 4 hours and then moving on to another Roman basement for dinner.
It is now Monday evening. I am missing my parents and Tish (who left this morning) and am extremely sleep deprived and hungover. My body hates me and my liver is pickled. Oh Well! It was totally worth it. I just turned in my last major project and now I'm sitting in a lecture, trying to keep myself awake by writing. Tomorrow, we leave for a class trip to Verona and Venice. I was supposed to go to Cardiff this coming weekend for the championship game but the logistics are just too difficult. Huge thanks to Stu and Ken though, bummed I won't be able to take them up on their offers. Next time hopefully. So instead of Cardiff, I'm going to stay in Rome and have a leisurely weekend. Probably involving very little alcohol, the oldies wore me out.
Hope you're all healthy and happy. Love,
Ash
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