Alejandro

Prague was unreal. The city is something from a Grimm's fairy tale. The pointed towers and gilded clocks glow. I felt like I was floating..maybe that was from the hot wine (it's glorified sangria, let's be honest). We just explored the streets, hands in pockets, and faces to the cold. There were pigs roasting on spits, vendors with vats of oil throwing dough and rolling it into sugar, and nativity scenes. We enjoyed the view from the top of the famous castle, and saw some bizarre items at the 'Communism Museum' which felt more like someone's crackpot scheme to rent out their apartment and throw a few posters on the wall. Unfortunately, at Chapeau Rouge, my girl Chiara's winter coat was stolen by some thief with a pension for faux fur. Wherever you are, dear thief, we curse you. It was chilly, and that was una causa propia cattiva. Luckily, Chiara got something chic from Zara and all was well. She was a trooper and we soldiered through for a walking tour and later, a pub crawl. Don't ask. I never thought I'd do such a thing but hey, when in Prague. It was really fun! We made friends with a boy named Pat who protected us from Taiwanese dance leaders and the rain. And as always, we found ourselves on dance floors and cobblestones. It was the last weekend jaunt for this little traveler. How bittersweet.

Now, I'm in Rome and trying to soak it up. Last night, we danced for a good two hours, in honor of the Virgin's Immaculate Conception. (No school today). I stood in the windowsill for a second and just thought This Is The Best. Gaga was throbbing, yelling "don't call my name, Alejandro." Alejandro may as well be America. I can't wait to get home and see so many things and places but really, I couldn't be happier. So, Alejandro, don't call my name for another two weeks. I want this all for myself. Even if just for a wee bit longer.