Rome, Italy
Reading: Dead and Gone by Charlaine Harris
By a complete failure on United's part, my seat on my flight home needed to go to a very irate, very loud young man who treated the flight crew as his personal whipping boys. United managed to overbook the flight by 25+ people and were begging for volunteers to stay. I originally said no but once the young man started screaming and looked on the brink of tears, the United crew person looked at me with the saddest puppy dog eyes and a LOT of incentives to give up my seat. So Rome, we're still pals.
I realized part of my major desire to get out of Rome had to do with getting out of the pit-from-hell hostel I was staying in. Once I got out of there, and into the nice hotel room with my own bathtub, Rome suddenly looked much brighter.
I had a very easy day, as the last day of vacation should be. Had a nice lunch (on United), walked bits of Rome I hadn't seen yet. I was in such a good mood I even bought my first miniskirt. No, really. Once the mosquito bites from hell on my legs fade, it won't look half bad. And once Carly whips me into shape once I'm back, I'll even be happy to wear it. :)
While walking Rome, enjoying my last strawberry gelato, I got hit by the scene I needed to get my story rolling. I sat on a bench outside Vatican City, licking the last bits of gelato from my fingers and finally, finally, finally got to writing. Thank God. I was beginning to think it would never happen.
This is exactly how I wanted to end vacation. A little accomplished, a little full, a little sunburned, a little sore, a little educated, a little bit more wardrobe and a lot excited to move into the next phase of life. I am convinced that life isn't marked by your age. It's marked by the stages of your life that are incomparable to others. There is no master sheet that says when you are supposed to feel one way or achieve another. Life is marked by the significant moments and stages you experience alone. It has taken me a while to realize no one else can dictate what those are for you. But when you are standing on the edge of the next phase and it really is right, it feels exhilarating. The unknown mixed with the steady understanding of where you've been. All I feel is excitement.
Life lessons aside, I'm more ready today to go than I was yesterday. Don't know why. (Although I think my comfortability now that I'm not in a SHADY ass hostel has a lot to do with it.) Tomorrow I'll write up a final post about the trip as a whole. And I hope I remember to include the story about my drink tonite with an ex-KGB officer turned Russian football player. That deserves a story.
For now I'm going to end my vacation the way all vacations should end- with a bubble bath.
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