21 guns for an awesome jacket

Last year I bought a G-Star jacket in Seattle that was ever-so-sexy, tight, and gray. Like what's happened lately with many things associated with Seattle, though, it is now lost from me in the chaos of space-time. Some German-British girls are now the proud owners of my sexy jacket, because I left it hanging to dry on their bathroom door when they were kind enough to let me wash my face and change. So it goes.

My inner-Zen-capitalist is rationalizing the loss by saying I have equaled the balance for the kickass leather jacket I got in Florence. Too bad I couldn't have Temple-of-Doomed it with a bag of sand instead. At least I didn't have to run from any boulders.

Today is the second-to-last day of school. I'm happy about that. Sadly, I didn't learn that much Italian in school. Most of what I can speak I taught myself here, with flashcards, recitation, going out on my own and meeting people, trying. The three and a half hours we spent every day in the classroom only hurt my head and made me tired, and now I'm definitely ready for it to be over. I don't even care what I get for a grade.

Tonight is the first of two farewell dinners, this one sponsored by API (the company who I went through to come here), and the second by LDM (my university). I love free meals. I'm going on a gelato frenzy now, two a day for the rest of my time here, because I know I'm not going to have it this good again for a long while, and I want to try every flavor and dress-up combination I haven't tried yet.

Last night Allison, Sam, Jaquelin, and I went to the Cork (Irish pub) after getting gelato. Jaquelin has a little boy-thing person here, a guy named Giovani, and when Allison and I were calling it an early night from fatigue, we talked about her situation on the walk back. Jaquelin was tempted ever so slightly to move here and give love a chance, and honestly I couldn't blame her for wanting to. Why not take the plunge and see what unfolds? Every great thing I've enjoyed remembering in my life has been the result of folly or madness, from doing a 8 city tour by myself on spring break one year to driving to Austin at the crack of dawn because someone convinced me it would be fun. Those are the adventures worth having, and even if her relationship with this guy who speaks almost no English fell apart, she could still say she lived a more amazing fantasy than most people dare to dream.

Fuck logistics, fuck your house of cards, fuck the friends who want you to stay, seize something amazing and leap. Don't half-ass it, either, just jump and pray that you live to talk about it. If not, you won't care anyway. Falling off a cliff and surviving taught me that, though I wouldn't say that was a decision. More so gravity being insistent about its sentiment towards matter.

But hey, it makes a great story. When we're old, ugly, feeble and useless, what more do we have left? I want to live a life that wows the few brave youngsters who chance to listen to an old guy talk. I think more people should do the same.

So Jaquelin, if you ever read this blog, do the wrong thing, the crazy thing, the inspired thing. Jump off a cliff, and land on some hot Italian boy cock.

-Sean