HOT Tranny Mess.

Good-Lord, this weekend was fabulous. Adrienne’s apartment was basically converted into a hostel, peeps sleeping all over the place. Thursday everyone culminated at said hostel, bringing booze of every consistency. For fear of being too sober we all got too drunk. Drinks are ridiculously expensive at the bars, so over-doing it is must. We ended up going to what is now one of my favorite bars in Florence: yag (gay: spelled backwards, thank you) literally on the block next to my apartment. It’s the perfect free-loving environment for anyone who’s willing to ungulate to the beat of various Shakira music videos being projected on the wall. Friday the roomies and I climbed the Dormo (the church in the center of Florence) four-hundred something stairs, (my ass still hurts), but the view was worth the struggle. Then, reversed the workout by eating our own weight in pizza. We deserved it. That night, started roughly at the same pace as Thursday. Ended up meeting some new friends from Adrienne’s gang, bar hopped, tried to hold various conversations with my broken Italian. Must have been a great night because the next day I found two Earl Grey tea bags in my left boot and a coupon for a free drink. Saturday morning I was w o r t h l e s s, still drunk in the AM, making eggs, and talkin’ trash. Everyone ended up getting cute and went out shopping; I clearly wasn’t ready to be seen in public. So, I lingered in the kitchen/ “living room” literally all day: borderline suicidal seeing as I threw out all of my natural dopamine like confetti in the previous 48 hours. Kept my mind busy watching ‘Rent’ on my laptop, flipping through Italian magazines that I’ve been collecting from the neighbors’ recycling and collaged the fridge. That night, still hung over, Adrienne and I cuddled in the kitchen, had an L-Word marathon and ate all the Nutella, I could faint. Sunday was a wash. Highlight of Monday was watching clips from ‘Roman Holiday’ and wondering if I too should chop off all my hair like Audrey Hepburn did. Proceeded to have a nightmare about losing all my hair. Hull. Not now, maybe soon. Feeling puffy from all the booze and Nutella, Tuesday we had a workout night, did Jill’s 30-Day shred from the biggest loser, then rave rave rave-ed to MIA/Girl Talk. Secretly SUCH a workout. And I’m spent.