Heart Sick

The last few days have been particularly hard. Why? I'm suffering from a pretty serious case of home sickness. I don't know where it came from - well, actually, that's not entirely true. I found out last week that I can't afford to come home in April like I had hoped. It will be at least another four months before I make it make to Texas. So, my sickness is not completely inexplicable but it's more than just that.

I miss Sunday night dinner and cartoon parties. I miss watching kung fu movies at John and Adam's. I miss the Alamo Draft house. I miss sing-a-longs. I miss downtown and sixth street. I miss cheap booze. I miss cheap anything, for that matter. I miss my mom. I miss home cooked meals. I miss having a roommate (specifically, roommate). I miss my cat. I miss my dog. I miss my car. I miss driving in the rain. I miss thunderstorms in general and the way the sky turns green and you can actually smell the brewing storm. I miss weekly lunches. I miss my brother. I miss my Skye-pie. I miss my dad's bad jokes. I miss shopping with Jackye. I miss the sun. I miss having a purpose (i.e. graduating college). I miss arts and crafts projects at Kelly's house. I miss the excitement I always felt as I exited 35, turned onto MLK and glided down that big hill. I miss burnt orange. I miss having more than three close friends. I miss always having someone to call. I miss the central time zone. I miss Jimmy Johns. I miss Thai Noodle House. I miss Vulcan Video - or any rental place. I miss the music capital of the world. I miss the Mythbusters and Mike Rowe and Futurama. I miss guitar hero. I miss people who miss guitar hero as much as me. I miss people whose idea of a spring break is watching How it's Made and playing Wii at the beach. I miss Shiner. I miss being able to say Shiner or double fisting without being laughed at. I miss John's house. I miss vanilla chia. I miss impromptu parties. I miss theme parties. I miss Halloween. I miss Tex-mex and Mexican Martinis. I miss watching reality TV marathons with Brandan and considering it a productive Sunday. I miss hobby lobby. I miss convenience. I miss feeling like I belong. I miss feeling loved.

Speaking of, I am a bit love sick too. I've just got a bit of a nostalgic, sentimental, longing to be in love thing going. I don't think this is detrimental to my well being, but I do think snuggling could go a long way toward improving my general mood.

It's just one of those days…

My Town Burned Down

Naples, Italy

The Stereotype

• On first impression, Naples is a loud, crowded, dirty, mismatch of people, buildings, cars, animals, and garbage. While I am aware there is a garbage strike on (in fact, I was privileged enough to witness a garbage riot on town hall in which people threw trash at politicians), you are given the distinct impression that litter is not a new problem. There are dilapidated, graffiti ridden apartments butted up against modern glass front business complexes. Buildings are painted all shades of red, yellow, and green. Every building is covered in balconies and every balcony is covered in hanging laundry and hanging plants. The streets have no lanes and the cars zip along wherever they want, and as fast as they want (usually faster than you would have thought possible). But mixed into and made from all of that, is a real feeling of life and culture. Italians are loud, passionate, and shake their hands a lot when they talk. Every overdone stereotype of the accent is spot on. Italians seem to always be in a hurry and completely apathetic at the same time. They embrace slow walks and long lunches. They use their horns too much. There are scooters every where and I love to watch them inch down the street with a hairdryer between their legs and say "ciao". (That's an Eddie Izzard joke for ya). The woman are beautiful and the men have no shame; I was asked out on three dates and proposed to twice. It's a hectic, "in your face" kind of town that you really do have to see to believe.

The Highlights

• I went to dinner my first night at this little, well, Italian place recommended to me by the B&B guys. There were only three people in the restaurant, the owner, the chef, and me. I told the owner to order his favourites for me and I got some of the most amazing fresh steamed clams and oysters on linguini, some interesting (but still tasty) fried sardines with roasted eggplant in a vinegar gravy, and a free bottle of wine. The food was amazing, but what really made the night was the ambiance. Me, alone with two happy old men, watching Walker Texas Ranger in Italian. When it first came on, they turned to me and said "Chuck Norris! Boom, boom!". I could have gotten on a plane back to London right then and there. It pretty much made my life.
  
• Pompeii was one of the more incredible things I have seen in my life. I was first and foremost surprised by the size of the place. For some reason, I was expecting a few ruins here and there and maybe some display cases of the more important artefacts. But, no. Not at all. It's an entire city - square grid blocks of roads and alleyways, sidewalks, crosswalks, remnants of temples, government buildings, gladiatorial arenas, graveyards and tombs, houses, restaurants, theatres, launder mats, fish markets, meat markets, bath houses, graffiti (both political slander and immature jokes), and even swimming pools - amazingly preserved and waiting to be explored. I got there rather early in the day and would often walk through the ancient city streets for twenty minutes without seeing another living soul - except, of course, for the many stray dogs that make the dead city their home. It's such a humbling and invigorating feeling to see and touch the things that people in the 6th century B.C. built and used in everyday life. It kind of blows your mind.
  
• As is now a tradition when it comes to Shelley sightseeing alone, I partook in another Hop-on-hop-off bus tour. I've decided this really is one of the best ways to see a big city when you're alone, prone to getting lost, and short on time. The tour took me through the main squares of the town, stopping at the most significant churches, catacombs, castles and museums. I took the time to explore the Museco Archelogico di Napoli - where all the exciting Pompeii and Herculeum finds end up. They had an "erotic exhibit" featuring a few of the fetishes and penis jokes antiquity had to offer. Be on the look out for a fabulous photography of my favourite penis piece. The tour also took us up to the highest point of the city where I sipped my café while overlooking the entire bay.
  

The Pizza

• If I had to pick a down side of my Naples experience it would be this: I can never enjoy pizza again. I've been trying to think of a way in which I can describe the absolute perfection of the margarehita pizza without making it sound like an overstatement. I don't think I can. You'll just have to accept it when I tell you that the tangy-sweetness of the tomatoes, the bubbly pockets of buffalo mozzarella, and the fresh basil leaves combined into a singular tastes explosion that can only be described as pure happiness. This is not an exaggeration, it is simply fact. I can only hope that you believe me and are, one day, lucky enough to eat pizza in Naples.
  

The Conclusion

• Many of the people I talked to were surprised Naples was my first Italian city. They found it very odd that I didn't start with Rome, Venice, or Florence. In fact, many of the locals even apologized for Naples being my first impression of Italy and implored me to visit the "nicer cities". I understand their point, I think. Naples isn't the "normal" Italian city. They have their own language, they have their own style, they don't have any of the huge attractions or monuments but, despite what they say, I think Naples is fantastic and I am so glad I went.