Friday, June 3, 2011

Chapter three.

Movies are seriously the devil. They are one of the most detrimental devices to health I can think of. Mental health, anyhow.

1. They showcase these beautiful celebrities that appear to be perfection incarnate....causing you of course to ensue in a chase for a caliber that is completely fabricated. And thus, unattainable.

2. They make you believe it's a completely innate and natural ability for men to sweep you off your feet in some original romantic gesture including, but not limited to, freezing their butt off in oceanic waters and insisting you (as the loved one) use their own, personal raft life-line.. or breaking out in song and dance to you (their high school sweetheart) on a rooftop overlooking the "New Mexico"--but really Salt Lake--valley. How often does this really happen?

3. They make you want to go to Italy. Where dreams are made of. Where love and beauty abounds. And you feel unsatisfied until you get there, even if you are traveling to other exciting places like England....or France. They aren't Italy.


It stole my heart. It was so quaint and charming. The perfect blend of tourist appeal and authenticity. And color.

We stayed at the Giulietta e Romeo Hotel, truly capturing the city. Shakespeare's legendary city. Though let's be honest, the only reason I really know this fact is because of Letters to Juliet.

See? It's those movies agian.

Anyways. The markets, the friendly people, the cobble-stone streets, and the letter writing to Juliet's secretaries are the real deal. I did it. And the effect all those cat-calling men have on your movie-weathered self-esteem? It's practically heaven on earth.

PS. I hope she writes me back soon.
PPS. It's fun to see your mom get checked out and hit on. SHE'S STILL GOT IT.

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