Not for the Weak of Stomach

Hello, enthralled readers! I write to you from my bed, in my pajamas and it is mid-day plus. I smell like diesel fluid from cleaning the rust off my new bike. You can stop drooling now, I'm not posting pictures.

Have you missed me? Sorry I haven't had time for you. I've been too busy eating and drinking my way through Rome, Florence and Naples with my mom and my aunt who were here last week. Really, I'm almost sick of eating food of the overly delicious variety.

I had a very curious interaction of the most human variety last week on the tram. Unlike Tokyo, Rome doesn't hire people to pack the masses into vehicles of public transportation so the Roman citizens generally have to do it themselves, which likely makes them more cranky than they already are. So I was on the tram, heading home, when behind me I hear loud, aggressive groans. Even louder than the kind I make when enjoying a bowl of thoroughly delicious pasta. I thought maybe it was a typical Roman man trying to pick a girl up by caveman speak, which would not be far from plausible, given the nature of both Roman men and Roman dialects. So I turned around as discreetly as possible to identify the source of the grunts.

The unappealing noises happened to come from a bum that looked like Walt Whitman (but less grandfatherly and endearing looking) and smelled like piss trying his hardest to pull out one of his few remaining, diseased-looking teeth. Gross, yeah? I must have made a face that looked like this:

because next thing I knew, there was this kid, looked like he was about 16 or 17, who started laughing at me. Then I tried to stifle a chuckle or two, but failed and burst out laughing myself. It turned into a full-on trying not to laugh but failing miserably thing. Each time we'd stop laughing, we'd look at each other and start again. Confucius or someone once said that "laughter is contagious" or some shit like that, and it proved to be true. Pretty soon the guy next to us started laughing uncontrollably too, and the woman next to him, and the lady next to her (thankfully the tooth-pulling man had gotten off by this point, even though I doubt he would have noticed us laughing anyway). Finally, just as we pulled ourselves together, as if someone had scripted it, a guy on the train ripped a huge fart and we all started laughing in unison again.

As gross as that was, moments like that are kind of awesome. Because they make you feel solidarity with other people who at least put on a facade of mental stability and/or like they have a certain control over their bodily functions.

That is all for now. Although I promise I will post again soon as midterms are over and I currently have no visitors. I also promise that my next post will be less disgusting.