Day One: Jet Lag?

So after three plane rides with no major incidents, I've arrived in Rome.  I managed to sleep almost the whole plane ride over, partially due to the fact that I was seated next to a 60 year old woman.  Considering that it's the middle of winter, Italy is ridiculously green!!  It looks a little bit like Ireland.  The campus is not as rural as I was expecting it, but the dorm rooms are definitely smaller.  There are only two desks, so that means one of our roommates is going to have to miss out on doing homework.  Except not really, because that's not how we roll.  We arrived to find over thirty books piled on our desks for the upcoming semester, among which are such fun sounding titles as Saint Augustine's Confessions and Boethius' The Consolation of Philosophy.  So anyone who has been referring to this semester as a "boondoggle" needs to stop.  I also need to look up what that word actually means at some point, but I just assume its a 50+ expression.

UD kept us exceptionally busy yesterday to help us get over jet lag.  We had mandatory tours of campus and meetings, and then a convocation mass and introductions of the staff.  Then last night they served us a five course dinner (which started at 8:15), which was a terrible idea because everyone was really exhausted and it seemed to drag on forever.

This morning we got up at 5 to get ready to go to St. Peter's Basilica, where we had mass at 8 AM.  It was absolutely beautiful in there, so ornate and just really inspiring to actually get to see.  Plus the Swiss Guard look exceptionally goofy in their parachute pants.  After St. Peter's we went on  walking tour of Rome in small groups(Mine was directed by Dr. Nelson [Philosophy teacher]).  We saw the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, numerous churches, and the Roman Forum.  We also got to stop for gelato, which was delicious.  I still need to work on picking up a few more Italian phrases because I'm still limited to saying hello, goodbye, and STOP IT.   But seeing as no Italian man has harrassed me yet, I haven't gotten to yell at anyone.  Which is a little unfortunate because my mother gave me the impression that Italian men would be grabbing my butt the whole time I'm over here.  Evidently not true.  But the semester is still young.

For the rest of today, I'll be taking a walk around the vineyard, and maybe going to the local store to look for an italian flatiron.  Four months of big hair just isn't going to work for me.  (Although now I have the ability to blow dry it semi-straight thanks to my wonderful friend Ali).

Ciao!