Toys of Christmas Past

Let's talk for a minute (of course, I will be doing all the talking and you'll be doing all the listening, but to be polite...) about toys. Not these new namby, pamby toys like the Lalaloopsy Holiday Ice Crystal doll. I'm sorry J, but Alice will not be getting one of these from me:

 I'm so not a fan.

Instead, let's talk (again, I talk, you listen) about my favorite toys that we got for Christmas growing up. Matt, I'm just going to be talking about my favorite Christmas toys from my childhood. Of course every gift you've given me for Christmas has been my favorite, all of them are tied for first place.

Now, on to the fun!  Of the top three toys that I could recall without anyone's help (the singing Ariel doll would be on this list if I had thought of it on my own, but it wasn't technically given to me or us so I don't think I could really include it, Mar), the third favorite gift wasn't really from my childhood. It was from my teenagehood. Yep, that's a real stage of development. Dr. Piaget just did not get that far.  Nicholas and his then girlfriend whom I shall not name got me and Marla our very own DVD player for Christmas. I know what you are thinking, big deal. You are right, it was a big deal. It was ours. And is still in use. Marla got it in the separation. I got the DVDs, she got the player.

Next up,

Anyone know what that is? It's a Clueless phone. As  in Clueless, the movie. You know, that movie based on that book by that lonely English woman that I didn't know existed when we got this phone. I mean, we didn't call anyone but we were super cool with the phone. It had a voice modifier where were could call people (if we called people) and be all creepy. It also had buttons that said "As if" and "Whatever!" when pressed. Did I mention how cool we were? I mean, check out that headset. We treasured that phone until it died. It went on an involuntary swim in my fish tank compliments of a little boy with idle hands. That little boy then went on an involuntary swim.

Okay, now, it's time for my most memorable (and dare I say favorite?) toy from my childhood. My mom might correct me on this, but I think the Family Talking Dollhouse was my favorite toy as an elementary schooler.  It looks like this:

All of the family and the furniture are outside the house in this picture. I promise, our talking family never had a garage sale like this family appears to be doing. Nor do I remember a grandfather clock and piano.

Anyway, the dolls talked when you put them in certain places in the house. There were little 3-quarter deep holes in all the rooms and whatever the talking family said correlated with that room. I know, I'm not explaining it well. I found you a Youtube video. You are welcome.

Mar, how come we didn't get the vacuum and the art easel, and all that other junk in the video? We played with that dollhouse for years. It very well may still be at my parents' house. Probably in the shed, but still hanging around for posterity. And that isn't a bad thing.

Anyway, there you have it. The rundown of my favorite Christmas gifts from childhood. Do yourself a favor, google "top toys of the '90s" and make your own Toys of Christmas Past list. Go on, you know you want to do it.

Let's talk about Christmas

 I hate to admit this to the world, but I'm really not in the Christmas mood.  I have a real tree up, gifts wrapped under the tree, I've been to the Christmas capital of the state*, and have been listening to as much Christmas music as possible. But I'm just not feeling it. Maybe it's because I'm still working and haven't started my "Christmas break" yet (do adults get those?) or maybe because it is about 75 degrees outside. Whatever the reason, I'm just not there yet. I wish I was. I'm working on being there soon.

Until there happens, I've been trying all kinds of hard to get there (annoyed with that yet? I kind of am.), including driving around looking at Christmas lights. My personal favorites are really close to the house so I get to see them often. I giggle (or stare in awe with my mouth slightly open) each time. Because I'm incredibly generous this time of year (and all year...), I'm sharing pictures with you!

And now (drum roll, please), in no particular order:

I call this the "slightly over the top, but not awful" house. I'm not sure how that inflatable Santa is going to fit inside the house to deliver toys. Maybe he has to deflate to get down the chimney.

This is the "gift-wrapped house" that I would return, should anyone give it to me. It's a bit run down, and I've got enough sprucing up to do at my own house. Ironically, the people that live in this house drive a Lexus SVU. No judgments. Just letting you know.

All meanness aside (who am I kidding), this is pretty impressive. I wonder how they store that great big bow. And what their electric bill is during October through December.  Remind me during Mardi Gras, they decorate for that too.

And this, this is "the Centenary house." It's on some road with Centenary in the name, but I don't know if it is actually affiliated with Centenary. Margaret?  I do like the outside Christmas tree. And I like how they didn't mix the colors, but used one Christmas color for each distinct part of the house. I think I like this one because of all the colors. Definitely one of the more classy colorful ones I've seen.

That's all I got. I'm going to go work on my Christmas spirit. At work. Because that'll help. Really.


*that statement may not be accurate.

The Color Run

I considered racking my brain for a cuter title, but I decided against it. Laziness seems to be my M.O. these days. I have no explanation as to why. But it's cold. Maybe that's it.

Anyway, enough with the excuses. About six months ago, I was conned into running in a race called The Color Run. Supposedly, it's the happiest 5K on the planet. I think the happiness comes from the endorphins released when running AND the euphoria that comes with making a mess that you don't have to clean up. Whatever the reason, it did make me happy. Dirty, but happy.

I'm going to give you a whole lot of pictures, because I know that is what you really want. My words may add humor and a lot of head-shaking, but let's face it - you are here for the photos.

Add caption

See that? That's about 15,000 people between us and that start line. Yeah, we cut to get closer to the start. I think all of us had places to be (well, not me, but I didn't want to tell anyone that so they wouldn't think I was lame).

All fresh and clean BEFORE the run.

Get ready for color!!!

First color, orange. No one really likes the color orange. If they say they do, they are lying.

Then blue. That's a LOT of blue chalk.

And then Monster energy drinks. Because people want to drink a Monster while running. Um, no.

I don't have a picture for yellow.
Forgive me.

Post pink!!! Pink was the last color. And the most fun. Because it is pink.

Chelse and Deanna.

the end!

I know, fastest 5K in pictures ever.

Then, the real fun began. Pouring chalk on each other and seeing how much we could get in Marla's mouth.

Three cheers for chalk!

We found a sign to pose with, but you can't tell how colorful we are. We won some and we lost some.

BAM!!! Marla got some green stuff all over her. I didn't post the next picture in the series because she would have been embarrassed, but if you ask me, I'll show it to you later.

A PR was not set for this run. We got out of the gates at 9:12 and crossed the finish at 9:58. When we were finishing, the last few waves were starting. Thank goodness we skipped some people in line to get a faster start time.

Yay for color! Now, Color Run, stop sending me emails.

Giselle the scaredy cat

I can't believe it has been a whole month since I posted last. Well, I can believe it because it is me, but October flew by without me noticing. I'm sorry it has taken me so long. I know you were all so anxious to read new posts. Never fear! Here's a new one.

I don't have children so I can't blog about them and tell you about the cute things they are doing or how often they sleep through the night without needing their diapers or sheets changed. Instead, I have a dog. Well, a step-dog really. Matt had her before he and I got married, so she isn't really mine. When she is really sweet to me, I pretend she's mine, but when she's not very nice, she ain't no part of me.

Through this past year I've learned that Giselle has quite a few fears, despite acting like the most vicious dog in a 5-mile radius at times. Here, I've made a handy dandy list so you can print it out and put in your purse so you'll know what not to do when you see her.

1.   Giselle hates when people leave. She gets all teary-eyed when the suitcases come out. Her psychologist thinks it is because she is afraid of being left behind. She doesn't just get sad when Matt and I leave, but anyone that she "knows" better than the exterminator. She doesn't care much when the exterminator leaves. Here's a picture of her in her "safe zone" right before Matt and I left on our latest adventure:

Giselle at the first sight of suitcases

2.  Laundry baskets.  The psychologist cannot explain this one. Every time I pick up a laundry basket, she goes running. I may or may not have tried to put her in a laundry basket before that aversion began.

3.  The vacuum. I have to put her outside when I vacuum or else she goes running wildly through the house trying to escape it. I know exactly why she doesn't like the vacuum. I tried to vacuum the loose hair off her once. She was not a fan.

4.  Gabe. Yep, Giselle is afraid of our godson. To be fair, Gabe does stomp his feet and yell in a very high-pitched voice at her when he sees her. She takes it like a champ, though.

5.  Being picked up. Matt likes to pick our "little" dog up. Giselle will lower her center of gravity, arch her back, twist, and turn to make it impossible for him to get a grip on her. It's kind of funny to watch.

6.  Thunderstorms. I think most dogs are scared of thunderstorms, but I have no clue why.  She stayed with her Pops a couple of weeks ago during a lightening storm. He so sweetly turned on the inside lights so she couldn't see the light flashing outside. He said she stopped whining so I think it worked!

7.  Her kennel without her bedding. She refuses to get in it. I feel like she thinks we are trying to confuse her. She'll lay outside her kennel until I put her things back in it.

8.  The blender. You know, thinking about it, maybe she just doesn't like loud noises.

That's it. That's all I can think of right now.  Now you are informed and aware and can take precautions to keep our dog from being terrified when you come for a visit. To sum up, don't bring suitcases, leave the laundry baskets in the closets, don't clean at my house, don't pick her up, and certainly don't make a green monster smoothie. Otherwise, she'll cry. 

Happy birthday, Henry!

It doesn't seem like it has been a whole year since I posted about Henry's birth, but it has been. It's been twelve whole months. That's a long time in baby months. Since birth, Henry's started walking, is making "talking" sounds, recognizes people and things (kind of like a dog), and wears some pretty adorable clothes.

Henry turned one on September 26. I got to go to Jeff and Kat's house the weekend before the big day for his birthday party. It was a interesting drive (I've never driven to past the Shreveport airport on Interstate 20), but it gave me time to listen to a book on the way over and catch up with my mom on the way bag. My ankle was tired at the end of the day though. Texans don't seem to be as fond of cruise control as I am.

The party was well-attended. I even got to see the newest Shipp baby. She's pretty darn precious. 

 

But let's get back to Henry. He's one! I have full expectations of him soon being able to say my name, not get scared when he looks at me, and of course, choose me as his favorite being. 

I have full expectations, but I won't hold my breath...

Happy (a little late now) birthday, Henry!

One fish, two fish...

 You know the story, the one by Dr. Seuss, about the fish. The one fish, the two fish, the red fish, and the blue fish. We've all read it. Or had it read to us.

 

It was one of my favorites. And I've decided that since I'm a grown up now and can no longer legitimately read the book to myself, that I should just live the book. That's right, I'm going to assemble the case of characters and then let them act out the book. 

I have a bad history with fish. I particularly remember having a tank full of goldfish - like over twenty but less than thirty. The first day I had them, several died. The second day, several more died. Then they died off one at a time until I had two or three. Those two or three thrived for several months until a Clueless phone (you remember those) ended up in their tank. I didn't put that phone in the tank, but I sure know who did. His name is Albert. He is on my list. Along with the boy who put this scar on my left cheek. They better watch out.

Despite my fish-related failure in the past, I've decided to move forward with my plan to bring my beloved book to life. 

Meet Gus.

He is a boy fish and the first fish that I have acquired. He is not part of the screen actors' guild so I got him for cheap. His past performances include the stage production of Jaws and Finding Nemo. His also done some made for TV movies which include It's a Fishy Life and Gone with the Waves.

I couldn't be more excited about this new interpretation of a timeless classic and hope you'll consider joining in all the fun!

Dog welcomes owner after 9 day trip

First, let me say that this post is going to be a bit ridiculously video-laden. I do not mean to be offensive or lessen the sacrifice of our soldiers and their families with my comparison of a long vacation to an overseas deployment. I do mean to be funny. If I can put a little smirk on your face, then I'm happy.  Also, I should note that my video has not been edited. If I knew how to do that fancy stuff, I would have. I talk a lot in the video and you can hear it clearly because I'm holding the camera. Feel free to watch it with the volume off. I promise, I won't mind.


First up: US Soldier reunites with dog:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eCL-HuMf5yg&feature=related


Next up: Soldier welcomed home by happy dog: This one doesn't actually start until like 2:30 so fast forward. I mean, who wants to watch a dog look out the window for two minutes? Not me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7I7GlmTKsrA&feature=related


Seeing my dog on the day I got back from Afghanistan:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysKAVyXi0J4&feature=related


My favorite: Dog goes crazy when soldier comes home: This one is sweet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-BnQzVUCiA&feature=related


And now, for the grand finale: Dog welcomes owner home after 9 day trip: 

Italy: Day 8, Part 3 (and Day 9)

This is it. The last post about Italy. I'm a little bit relieved. Are you?

After getting back from our island hopping, we searched for a restaurant called Poste Vecie. It is, reportedly, the oldest restaurant in Venice with a beginning around 1500. Before it served food, it served up the mail. Indeed, it was once a post office. It took some walking and asking, but we finally found it - about two steps from the fish market that we explored earlier in the day.  The didn't open until seven so we made a reservation and walked around a bit. We found a sidewalk cafe and ordered a couple of spritzes and headed out to a dock over the canal. We boat watched and people watched all while the sun was setting over Venice. Doesn't that sound romantic? It was. A little bit. Except for the smell of fish and people all around us.

 When our reservation time came, we headed to Poste Vecie. The restaurant has two main dining rooms. We were in the Sala della missive. It is decorated with postal memorabilia which was both odd and neat. The other room (I forget the name) was decorated with paintings depicting the seven deadly sins. I wonder how the other diners felt as they ate a very expensive dinner while looking at a painting of gluttony.

Super old mail.

I don't remember the names of what we ordered, but I can give you a brief recap. For starters, we got a seafood sampler. There's a picture of it right below these words. It's okay, you can say it. It doesn't look good. I agree, it doesn't. It wasn't my ideal appetizer. It all tasted very fishy. Fresh, but fishy. I don't care for octopus.

    
Up next, we split gnocci with lobster. Now that was delicious. Matt wasn't feeling well so I ate most of it. What can I say? You snooze, you lose.  I'm having some weird spacing issues right here. I apologize.

For the next part of the meal, we split some type of white fish that was topped with tomatoes, capers, and olive oil. It was really good. They brought the whole fish out and showed it to us, then took the fish off the bones and out of its scaly wrapper.

We skipped dessert and headed out to slowly make our way back to the train station. We got on the waterbus one last time and savored the jostling of the other passengers while having our tickets checked by the waterbus ticket Nazi. Apparently, if you get on the bus without a ticket, they fine you like 50 bucks. A one-time ticket is about seven. If you remember, we bought the 12-hour pass so we were good. For funsies, we shifted positions to get away from the ticket checker before he could get to us. Acting shady while only speaking English may not have been the wisest move, but it was fun.

Once we got back to the train station, we checked our departing time and gate, then sat down to wait. Well, actually, I spent the last euro coin we had to use the facilities. Very clean. For $1.37 they had better have been.  Then we sat down to wait. After awhile, our train came just as the rest of our group got to the station. I sat across from a girl in our group who is from California. We had a nice chat, though I'm not sure most of what I said made sense as I was exhausted and it was after midnight.

Once we got back to the hotel, we packed our bags and went to sleep. We woke up the next morning, ate another American breakfast and headed to the airport (after negotiating with a pre-arranged driver who tried to charge us more than we could pay or were told we would have to pay). If it wasn't for a girl from Oklahoma, we would have had to go back to the ATM. Traveling in Italy is very expensive.

Anyway, we got to the very nice Venetian airport (way nicer than Rome, btw) and waited for our plane. Customs was fairly easy. We decided to check all of our luggage except Matt's backpack and my purse. Matt tried to sneak a waterbottle on board and got in trouble. I'm kidding. It was an accident, but he did get in trouble.  Our flight was at 11 a.m. We got in Philly about 5 p.m. and had a nice philly cheesesteak for dinner before our next flight around seven. Then we flew to the ATL where we rushed to our flight (after making a brief stop for starbucks) and made it to BR about 9. That doesn't sound like a long day, but it was the longest day of our lives - about 30 hours.

Drew picked us up from the airport and since it was Cinco de Mayo, we celebrated with chips and queso while I did Drew's dishes and then promptly fell asleep. In a queen-sized bed in a room with air conditioning. And our puppy. She missed us horribly.

That reminds me.  Next post is going to be a video of her welcoming us back home. 

Italy: Day 8, Part 2

After a delicious lunch of artery-clogging beef and grease, we got some strawberries and headed to catch the waterbus. We knew going in to Italy that we wanted to go to the islands of Murano and Burano if at all possible while we were in Venice. As Venice didn't have a whole bunch of appeal for us, but did have a whole bunch of people, we decided that we'd venture out to the outer islands around Venice and go exploring. Two of those most famous islands are Murano, which is known for its glass-blowing, and Burano, which is known for handmade lace.

We caught the waterbus and sat back to enjoy a thirty minute boat ride out to the first island. When we got to Murano, we really didn't know where to go or what to do, so we just went walking with no clear direction. We came across lots of little glass shops with pretty things, but nothing really that caught my eye. I wanted to find something for my mother. She loves glass things - particularly glass miniatures.  Before long, we stumbled across a glass blowing demonstration: 

That orange blob eventually became a horse that the sculptor promptly shattered. On purpose. I felt it keenly. In fact, I still tear up a bit at the thought of the destruction of such a beautiful thing. Alas, so it goes. We ended up finding Mom a glass flower. It wasn't a miniature, but I thought it was beautiful. It even made it all the way back to Mangham without breaking. Score one for proper packaging.

Once we were finished scoping out Murano, we caught another boat to go to Burano. Burano is only about 50 acres. Burano is known for lace, like I said above. I, being an old woman, adore lace so I was incredibly excited about this island. What I wasn't expecting was the apparent extreme poverty on the island, but also the absolute charm.  We walked in little lace shops and I oohed and ahhed over everything from baby bonnets to tablecloths to little animals. We ended up buying a Venetian mask made of lace and a butterfly. Both are beautiful and so delicate. We bought those things from the lady who made them. In fact, when we went into her shop, she was sitting in a rocking chair just a knitting away. She did not speak English though, but I think she could tell that I was enraptured with her creations by the look of amazement on my face. I hope so anyway.

After seeing the lace shops, we walked around the island. It isn't very big, but is charming. Oh, and we ate a cannoli for one euro and then found one euro on the ground. So basically, we got a free cannoli. Win!  Here are some pictures of the island that I love the most:

 

 

 

I know, kind of makes you think of how Jamaica would look if I had been allowed to create Jamaica. If I ever live on a beach, I want my house to be turquoise. Or purple. Or coral. 

Next up, dinner in the oldest restaurant in Venice, a boat-ride at sunset, and the train back to the hotel.

Italy: Day 8, Part 1

Hello Venice!!!

Well, not actually Venice, but we are going to Venice today. Our hotel was not actually in Venice, but in a close-by small city. Know what that meant? No street noise, no bright lights, no drunken revelers or delivery trucks. It was like a quiet paradise.

I think I left out the best part. I mean, parts.

 

 Know what that is? A shower.  A real-life, fully enclosed, shower.  No drain in the middle of the floor. No flimsy curtain. Completely self-contained and completely amazing. Again, there were the two types of toilets, but I didn't care about that at all. I was thrilled with the real shower. 

And then, 

 

Know what that is? A bed. A queen-sized bed. Not two twin beds pushed together, but a real bed. A big bed. With feather pillows.

Oh, and there was air-conditioning!!!! I know, we might have been in Heaven.  And then, we went to sleep and woke up to eat breakfast. With scrambled eggs and (Canadian) bacon. And fruit. And cheese.  Amazing. Best breakfast all trip, hands down.

Because we weren't staying in Venice, we had to hop on the train to get into the city. Here I am, looking cool.

Once we made it to Venice, we had to get on a boat to get to the other side of the city where the gotta-see sights were located. We didn't really care about touring the Jewish neighborhoods.

From the train station, we had to walk to meet our boat.

Our pond-hopper boat to Venice

Seems like the Port of Venice should have a little more demure sign. I mean, it ain't that fancy.

We did want to see St. Mark's Square (Piazza San Marco) and the Rialto Markets so we skipped out on the group (not included in the trip price) tour and ventured out on our own, with the occasional Rick Steves supplement.

The above picture is the clock tower in St. Mark's Square that is connected with St. Mark's basilica. See FB for pictures of the basilica. The blue circular section is not ringed with numbers, but with zodiac signs. That ball in the middle of it shows the position of the moon. Just above that circle, is the hour and minute - again, in blue. You can see an X and the numbers "25." It was 10:25 a.m. when that picture was taken, or there abouts. The minute hand only changes every five minutes. I know, Roman numerals in Italy, who would have thought it?  Further up is the winged lion which is the symbol of Venice. At the tip top is the bell. On either side of the bell are human-shaped robots that bang their metal hammers on the bell to toll the time. I believe, but don't remember the source, that the first death by robot happened up there when an inattentive worker was knocked off balance by the swinging of one of the robots' arms. I can't cite my source though, so it may be false.

The Square is marked by huge pillars with the winged lions on them. It seems that Venice wanted all the ships at sea to be able to pick out Venice from the string of islands on Italy's coast.

After we saw what we wanted to see in St. Mark's Square, we headed out towards the Rialto Market. There were tons of old signs pointing the way. I wish I would have taken some pictures of them. It was like a scavenger hunt, you never knew where the signs would be.  Along the way, we were almost killed by several delivery men. There are no cars allowed in the city so goods and food had to be boated in and then trucked by hand through the city (read that as "little narrow alleyways filled with people). The delivery men would use hand trucks and loud, annoyed shouts to announce his presence. I didn't care for that at all, but it was fun to see their frustration.

And, of course, we got to see gondolas and their drivers with the cute little hats. We thought about taking a gondola ride, but when Matt inquired as to the cost and was informed that it would be about $137 bucks, we opted to skip the gondola for the twenty dollar public waterbus that we would have to use later in the day. I wasn't disappointed and don't really think Matt was either. We had lots of time on the water that day and those gondoliers looked rather shady.

Eventually, we made our way to the Rialto Market. Oh my goodness. Words cannot describe the produce we saw. Here's just a sampling of pictures:

The strawberries especially looked divine. I am a major strawberry lover, but Matt is not. I mentioned how I wanted them several times, but he, the bearer of the euros, never got my hints (until later that day).

After the produce market, we hit up the fish market. Again, pictures:

The market had every kind of seafood imaginable. There was a fishy smell, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it would become after the seafood was taken away and the heat of the day came. We got to experience that later.

Seeing all that beautiful food was making us hungry. Matt wanted to go to a little place that he had read about before we left the good ol' U.S. of A. I don't recall the name, but after an hour of searching, we finally found it. The menu was written in Italian and just outside the door. We quickly learned that they were very proud of their food and didn't take credit cards. We didn't want to have to get more euros and had already spent a fair portion of our budget for the trip. I talked Matt out of eating there and we headed back out to the streets to look for cheaper fare. We came to a McDonalds. I asked if we could eat there. Matt said no. I burst into tears in the middle of the street with dozens of small schoolchildren watching me cry. You would have thought that he just told me that my dog died. You see, I was hungry/poor/sad/angry.  I wanted to spend three euros on strawberries, but I couldn't have them. I wanted to eat, but didn't want to spend money. I wanted to do something I wanted to do, and not just everything that Matt wanted to do. Eventually, Matt realized that all he would have to do to appease me was to agree to have lunch at McDonalds. (To this day, he still knows that I can be won over with McDonalds french fries) He shuffled me inside, suggested I make use of the water closet, and bought me a Big Mac. I love that man.

After getting over my hunger-induced outburst, we went back to the market and bought some strawberries. Then, we caught the waterbus to Murano. But I'll tell you all about that tomorrow.

Italy: Day 7, Part 2

Two households, both alike in dignity, 
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, 
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. 


Romeo and Julient, Act 1, Prologue

Go on, admit it. You just swooned a little bit. I get it, I did it too. I'll let you in on a little secret though. Come close so I can whisper it. I don't like Romeo and Juliet. What? I know, I'm ashamed. But seriously, I just think they were stupid, senseless, selfish children. I'm not going to rant about it or even get up on my soap box. I just had to tell you. Can we still be friends?

Anyway.

We left Pisa about 11 or 12ish and headed to an outlet mall (I know, an outlet mall in Italy. I may have pinched myself.) in San Barbarino (or something like that). Matt and I perused the stores but didn't really see anything that we couldn't live without. I don't think I even took any pictures. But we did it, so I had to tell you about it.

Wait. I'm lying. We did find something we couldn't live without. Chocolate. Included in the outlet mall was  a Lindt outlet. We spent about 15 euros on chocolate. Me, feeling guilty? Nope.

And then we got on the bus and drove to Verona which is several hours away from San B. We got to the city about 4:30 or 5 and had about an hour or two to browse before we were to meet back up for dinner. But first, we got a quick walking tour from our group guide.

Oh, another walled city. Shocker.

First thing we noticed when we got to the city center: a colosseum. The colosseum is still being used as an ampitheatre today. I know, how amazing would it be to see a show there. Gladiators aren't the main attraction anymore. When we were there, we saw posters for a Madonna concert and of course, Romeo and Juliet. Jealous. Side note: Verona seems to be most famous for Romeo and Juliet, but The Taming of the Shrew was also set in Verona along with another one that has Verona in the name, but I can't remember it.
 

Look, you can see outdoor lighting has been added.

After the arena, we went to the House of Juliet or Casa di Giulietta.  Ever seen that movie, Letters to Juliet? Well, the scene of Juliet's balcony is just like in real life, expect for the millions of people vying for photo-ops in about 100 square feet and there's no actual wall to stick letters into. There is a wall full of graffiti, but no real wall with little holes for the letters. That's not real. The movie was based on a book about the letters that broken-hearted teenage girls send to Juliet, but they actually come in the mail. There's just no place to leave an actual letter.

Juliet's balcony

When we entered the courtyard of Juliet's house, there was a little boy up on that balcony. I hope I wasn't the only one who thought that was just wrong. Little boys do not belong on Juliet's balcony.

Juliet

And here's a statue of little fourteen-year old Juliet. You can see that certain portions of her are um, worn. Supposedly, if you rub Juliet's chest, you will have good fortune. I think, in America, rubbing a 14-year old girl's chest will just get your picture in the paper every time you move.  Actually, to get a picture of Juliet without her being groped, I persuaded our Australian mate to get in line to touch her and hesitate a bit so I'd have time to her a shot of her. Please note, I said "a shot of her" not "a shot at her." I don't want my picture in the paper.

After leaving Juliet's courtyard, we headed to explore on streets of marble. Yep, the main streets of Verona are at least topped with marble. Look:

I tried to walk on the edges of the street so as to not wear down the marble.

My face looks puffy.

The standard "drink" in Verona is famous all over Italy, but I'd never heard of it. It's called a spritz. It's bright orange from some Italian liqueur called Aperol, but also has sparkling white wine, and a little seltzer water. It's typically served with olives and chips.

After getting a little refreshment, we hit the streets to find an ATM. We were going to in Venice the next day and knew that we would need euros to pay for transportation. However, we could only find two ATMs. Normally, one would be sufficient, but there is a particular bank that didn't care for our silly American debit card. Both of those ATMs were from that bank. We were pretty close to despairing. We had about decided to just go to dinner with the group which was already paid for and worry about money once we got to Venice but on our walk to the restaurant, we saw a Barclay's! We were saved! Matt ran in and got some euros and we went to dinner all relaxed because we weren't broke in Italy.

For dinner, I don't have pictures. However, I can tell you that we had a cheese plate for antipasto, gnocci for first, chicken with potatoes for second, and ice cream for dessert. It was good, but still, I was ready for an American breakfast.

After dinner, we headed back to our bus. We drove to the outskirts of the city and then pulled over. It seemed our trusty traveling conveyance busted a belt. We sat on the side of the road for a couple of hours before our driver could take apart the engine and duct tape it back together. We finally made it to Venice about 1 in the morning. But you'll have to wait and hear about that tomorrow. Yep, tomorrow. I'm about tired of only writing about Italy.  Day 7 has three parts though...