Heathen Goes To Mass (Kind Of)

On a whim decided to go to Palm Sunday mass with Beppe and Franci.  'Cause hey, when's the last time I went to mass?  Oh right: never.  Except that this didn't end up happening, exactly; we dropped Franci off at the local church, then headed downtown to another church for which Beppe feels more affinity, I guess.  On the way, Beppe asked if I wanted to go to confession, and my heart literally skipped a beat.  I think he was joking, but in those two seconds before my chosen response (nervous laughter): how do you...?  what would I even...?  where would I begin?  We got to the church just as the bell tolled noon, but we didn't stick around for mass, we just wandered through and got ourselves our olive tree branches, and I watched as Beppe crossed himself repeatedly while contemplating the falsity and insincerity of such a gesture were it ever performed by me and hoping that my blatant heathen-presence--dress too short? looks like I just went swimming due to umbrella problems? maybe should've googled "Palm Sunday," you know, to "refresh my memory"?--wasn't too offensive to the catholics.  #churchfear #noshame

Went into the city again this evening with Beppe and Ginni to find a birthday present for Franci.  It started raining harder and we were a bit giddy for some reason so we started running through the dark streets, our laughter echoing through the portici. Italians are civilized creatures in public; this felt like nudity.  I think everyone should try running down a rainy downtown street with a middle aged man and his young daughter sometime.

A friend came over for dinner tonight and brought her dogs.  One of which was a huge black male boxer-lab mix named Tito who sparked some kind of rage in Mela, our dog-in-residence.  So they decided to attack each other, and I happened to be standing kind of in between them (whoops), and in the process got a nice big scratch on my leg and my one good pair of stockings ruined.  Second time a dog has made me bleed.  Blerg, please no more dog scars!  Dinner was nice though, once I changed out of my tattered clothes.

Pizza and beer fix most things, I feel.

More non-sequitur pics: I never carry my camera around because it's always raining and/or I don't want to, ok? So this is what the kitchen looks like.  Complete with cake.

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