Day 9 - Rome - An American in...Rome

I'm homesick. Ok, there I said it. I may be some kind of sin to all of you in cyberspace, but after 9 days, 6,000 miles from home, ALONE, anyone is allowed to have a moment or too of missing their bed...or TV...or paved roads...or bidet-less bathrooms (but washers are weird - why can't the Europeans wash their butts in the shower like the rest of us?).

So I got dressed up in my spiffiest Calvin Kline sundress (American Designer), set off past my closest McDonalds (American "Cuisine") in search of anything American to make me less homesick.

Ok so, where would that be exactly? I first ran across a series of flags in front of a hotel. Red, White and Blue. YIPPEE! Oh, wait, that's the Union Jack. Ok, so next. OOOH!! I sign in English. Oh wait that is for the Scottish Church of Italy. Damn. Well, shit there has got to be an American something around here...

A-HA! I have an idea. I hoped on the Metro, scurried up the street past the Crypt of the Cupichini Monks (still icky by the way, just with a longer line now) and hit pay dirt. Hard Rock Cafe. Ok, so TECHNICALLY the first Hard Rock Cafe was opened in London, but by American Investors wanting to preserve artifacts of the history of Rock and Roll (invented in America folks). SCORE!

Sometimes being a table for one pays off. I was rushed past of the crowd of fellow homesick Americans, Europeans and the like and plunked down in a keen table in the middle of the action. My waitress bopped over - a girl of pacific island decent, but with a clear understanding of the American vernacular - and took my order: Side Salad with Blue Cheese Dressing, Pulled Pork Sandwich with the spicy Vinegar BBQ sauce, a TALL coke with ice and a Hurricane (gotta represent for the Tahoe Posse). I slowly melted into my sticky vinyl seat, bobbed my head to the sounds of classic rock faves from Van Halen to AC/DC to Janis Joplin up to Duran Duran and Howard Jones (another shout out to my 80s highschool crew). I was in heaven.

Unfortunately, my 7 minutes in heaven came to an end to quickly and I was once again perplexed about how I was going to finish out my day. I GOT IT! Jazz. What could be more American than Jazz music. Jazz apparently is the latest and greatest thing here in Rome. With world class Jazz clubs popping up all over the city, drawing world class acts such as Herbie Hancock, The Marsailles Brothers and many, many more. Unfortunately, it was only 3:45 p.m. and the earliest an open club (many local establishments close for the hectic summer months) would start seating is 8:30 p.m. Harumph

As I wracked my brain walking up and down the cobblestone streets (haven't these people heard of pavement...), the idea came to me. Or more like was plastered over every flat surface in front of me. For any of you who don't think Europeans LOVE American culture, you are oh so wrong my friends. Because what to my pleasant surprise, is the biggest hyped movie in Roma (land of Caesar, home of catholicism, and the renaissance culture) - SEX AND THE CITY!

So me and my closest 200 female friends (mostly women and girls also sick of one too many churches and paninis) piled into the air conditioned cinaplex, with our cokes and popcorn and settled into an afternoon of sheer American bliss. (A side note - for those of you who have not seen the movie...RUN! Don't walk, grab the nearest woman you can find and GO SEE THIS MOVIE! It does not disappoint)

Sufficiently cried out, exhausted and mentally drained, but satisfied, I headed back to my hotel for dinner - a club sandwich from room service (now you weren't expecting pasta were you?!?). The one thing I have learned, that no matter how many great cities you visit, no matter how nice the hotel is, or how pleasant and welcoming the people - there has never been, and never will be, no place like home.

6 more days - but who's counting....