Now who’s the dumb ass?

First off – I am a dumbass for having eaten so much at dinner last night.  I had fresh crab linguine and then chocolate “treats” aka big fat piece of chocolate cake and 2 glasses of red wine.  I am not sure of the alcohol content of the wine, but by the time I got back to the hotel, my face was numb – so I am going to go with a whole frickin’ lot!  You know that sin called gluttony? That’s me.  I gorged the crap out of myself.  At 1pm in the afternoon, I am still not even close to being hungry again.  So, I decide to go down to Claudio’s work to sit and write and drink as many café lattes as my little bladder can handle (the answer is 3 in case you were curious).

Secondly – the women who were sitting next to me at dinner last night are dumbasses too.  They were two lovely British women, who make no mistake, I fell completely in love with, but they were talking about how worried they were that their children marry into the right families and that if parents would expose their children to theatre at a young age, then they would get used to it and be better as adults.  This is not true – I went to the theatre as a child and I still act like a child when I go if the show is terrible.  Make better shows and people will behave better – same as in the 18^th century – except then you got to shoot your gun at the performers on stage if they were sucking wind.  When they started discussing that they didn’t caffeine keeps you awake at night, I took the opportunity to crack open part of my crab and shot it onto their table – ladies really, do you not know this yet?!  They were actually shocked to learn that I spoke English (because usually I only speak Swahili), when I apologized for pulling a Julia Roberts move at dinner – so here I am looking dumb again.

Furthermore, Claudio is a dumbass, as I have now learned are many Italian men (I don’t why we American women have this romantic idea about an Italian man sweeping us off of our feet, but this is  an awful rumor that needs to cease being spread like herpes immediately – or is just me who thought this?).  After writing for a few hours, I finally was hungry, so ordered some food at around 3pm – seafood pasta – side note: It was fantastic!  Like all good Italians, he enjoys bad 80s and 90s music, so for this I will cut him some slack.  But, when I finished eating and he asked me to pay the bill! I thought this took some cajones after he had stood me up for lunch once already, but I lost my shit anyway.  There will be no further discussions of Claudio as I am done with stalking my scarf, and I am pissed he still has it.  Third time in less than 24 hours now, I am the dumb one!  Damn it all to hell!

I stormed from the restaurant, dazed with frustration and buzzing with caffeine.   I am on a “Madonna with Child” Strike, so I won’t be seeking solace in any churches or museums today.  So what else is there to do in Florence?  Go shopping!  I wogged my way to Mercato Centrale where I was overwhelmed with all things dead for sale – leather, fur, silk worm poop – it was like watching someone with ADD try to solve a Rubik’s Cube.  I made quick lap, then marched off to the Ponte Vecchio (which I was told to avoid, but I don’t really swoon over sparkly things, so I managed not to spend any of the little bit of traveling budget I have left).  I have to say that Bulgaria makes it awfully tempting to try, don’t they?

I’m really just hoping I can find something like this young fellow so that I can look like I fit in here……

Or possibly these fine gentlemen? (they look like they got lost on their way to Bavaria)

Maybe I will look again tomorrow, since I have scoped out the 800 options available, should I choose to pursue Eurotrash Chic for my new fall look (then instead of just feeling like a dumbass I can look like one too!)