Eh...I've seen better...

Today was VATICAN DAY!  (kind of like "Field Day" in Elementary School, except instead of running relay races and getting that eagerly-awaited popsicle, you walk through hall after hall of priceless art displays, visit, arguably, the greatest house of prayer in all of Catholicism, and spend the day engulfed in a warm cloud of holiness and divinity.)  Jai and I rocked His Popeness' domain for a good 6 hours...in that time, we snapped tons of pictures, saw some of the most incredible works of art we have ever encountered, and The Wife got pooped on by a pigeon.  All in all, a well-rounded day!  Capping off our honeymoon sightseeing with a quick romp to the Pantheon, we returned to the hotel a bit weary but enriched and satisfied (especially after stopping off for a double scoop of gelati).  For now, I'm off.  A big plate of pasta is calling my name from afar...

VATICAN!

Pile o' Rocks

Amidst scorching heat and throbbing feet, Jaime and I walked the ruins today.  Hot diggitty DAMN were they unreal.  The big ones we saw were the Forum, Palatine Hill, and the Colosseum.  Tip: if you're in Rome in August and planning on seeing the ruins...WAIT FOR A NICE CLOUDY DAY.  We are absolutely SPENT, through and through...thank you, Mr. Sun.  Take your evil rays a-packin', vicious dispensor of heat and...um....causer...of...unfortunate amounts of sweat!!

Rome to date

Best of Flo'!

Was slightly disenchanted when we arrived from Venice. After all, how do you follow up romantic side street canals and opera-singing gondoliers?? The answer: with beautiful pieces of art, master-crafted sculpture, and multiple glasses of palate-tickling chianti :) Florence, well done, m'lady.

Flo' Pics

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Venezia Picturinos

(Disclaimer: "Picturinos" may not, in fact, be a real word in Italian. Or any language. Real or fake.)

Updated pics from Venice: http://s104.photobucket.com/albums/m194/jasonf44/Honeymoon%202010


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Best of Venice!

Ahhh, Venezia...how we will miss you :) This maze of a city has a magic and mystique about it that will stay with us for a long time after departing. It's understandable that the natives are often frustrated by the tourists; unlike other European cities, there is no real "tourist" area in Venice...the whole city is the tourist area! Resident homes are located right next to the biggest and most awe-inspiring sites the city has to offer. To escape the tourism is, perhaps, to go to the mainland. But, then, what Venetian in their right mind would leave such an amazing place. The grand canal winds its way through the city like a snake, branching off into the neighborhoods' smaller waterways. The streets are predominantly the equivalent of alleyways in the States and can be VERY confusing, especially at night. I have an immense respect for anyone who walks around without a map and actually knows how to get from A to B...props, my Venetian brothers, surious props.

All in all, a breathtaking few days in Venice. Florence, all I gotta say is you have some damn big shoes to fill. Arrivederci, ciao!!

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Best of Vienna!

Saw Mozart's house. 'Nuff said.

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Best of Praha!

Saw a castle, did a synagogue crawl, and had some beer cheese. Damn I love Prague.

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Best of Amsterdam

Amsterdam...birthplace of the ol' adage "that goes together like pot and prostitutes!.."

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Pragueward, hoooooo!

Great few days in Amsterdam. What seemed at first to be a completely wild, untamed, intimidating city now feels like a manageable, comfortable place to live/visit. With the everpresent odor of hers truly, Mary Jane, wafting through the air, of course.

But, the time has come to move eastward toward that magical land of Praha, as the kids call it. We're taking an overnight sleeper train, which should be interesting, to say the least. I told Jaime I feel just like Tony Curtis in "Some Like It Hot"...except without the whole crossdressing thing. Of course, the day is still young...

Updated 'Dam pics - http://s104.photobucket.com/albums/m194/jasonf44/Honeymoon%202010 (will have to cut and paste this one till i get to a computer. Hopefully this will work...having issues with my pic posting recently. They might be wildly out of order and possibly include some from Prague and Vienna...not sure yet. Again, I blame her
Majesty the Queen. Respectfully, of course).

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We came, we saw, we FRINGED!

Edinburgh was an incredible stop on our journey...partly because of the incomparable Fringe Festival taking place, partly because it is home to a medieval castle on a hill, and partly because it is just freakin' cool, holmes. Eddie, we will miss you!

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Goodbye Glasgow...Hello Edinburgh!

A lil' "Best of" vid I threw together QUICKLY summing up our first stop. Literally has taken days to upload this mother. No music this time...baby steps... Enjoy!

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Piccies, love!

Rest of Edinburgh pics!

Have no idea why the Photobucket app puts later uploads BEFORE previously uploaded pics...I am sure Her Majesty the Queen has some thing to do with it...

No Shmeservations

Call me a traditionalist.  Call me practical.  Call me...I don't know...a word that describes someone who follows and abides by the rules of life in the silly, naive, seemingly unfounded hope that his actions make easier either his or someone else's journey across this all-too-short bridge to the great unknown?

Call me any descriptor of that ilk that you will, but I feel that there are certain things in this life that are unflinchingly rigid.  Or, at least, should be.  And one of those things are reservations.  Yesterday, however, I was informed otherwise.

We bussed into Edinburgh yesterday morning with high spirits and overflowing anticipation to see the sites, the city, the people, and of course, the pure, distilled insanity that is the Fringe festival.  The ride there was partially rainy and partially sunny (as is the weather in Scotland...sometimes, oddly, at the same time), and concluded with a 20-minute long conversation with a lovely older Scottish lass during which I was turned around in my seat nodding and smiling as she went on and on about SWEET-MOSES-KNOWS-WHAT B/C I COULDN'T UNDERSTAND A DAMN WORD SHE WAS SAYING (but, bless her heart, she was adorable).  We arrived at St. Andrews' Square, but you just as easily could have mistaken it for Times Square by how many people were squeezing their way down Edinburgh's narrow roads.

We navigated our way to the Royal Mile (covered with street performers doing everything from acrobatics to...well...a dancing man in a tuxedo with the head of a fish), found Blair Street, hung a right on Cowgate and soon arrived at the Cowgate Tourist Hostel, which looked fine and unassuming from the outside and lobby area.  That is where we met George.

George seemed to be a nice enough chap...slightly spiky hair, chops, a piercing or two, random punk rock shirt, fun little accent.  We presented George with our printed, confirmed, RESERVATION (cf. Shmeservation - (def.) a hollow promise given by jerks).  George proceeded to inform us that while our shmeservation was good, we would not be in the same room.  The conversation went SOMETHING like this:

JFro: Well, hididdlyho there, my good man.  We have a reservation to stay at your fine establishment .
George: Right...so...we have you two here, but not in the same room...
J: Excuse me?
G: We're unable to put you in the same room.   Because you made your [shmeservation] after the people who checked in before you, they have first priority.
J: But, George, our RESERVATION clearly says we're supposed to have 2 beds in a 4-bed room.
G: Right
J:
G: But you made them late, so we put other people in the room first and we have to split you two up.
J: Ok, George, I think there might be a miscommunication here.  See, we made a RESERVATION to be in the same room.  The key to the whole reservation system lies in the ability of the reservation HOLDER to eventually stay in the room in which they have made a reservation.  THAT'S WHAT A RESERVATION DOES.  Otherwise, the reservation loses its potency.  It becomes a meager request.  But this isn't a meager request, IS IT, GEORGE??  NO.  This is a RESERVATION.  So what can we do about this?
G: Nothing, unfortunately.  There's no more room anywhere else.
J:  Ok, George, let's examine this situation one more time...

You can imagine how the conversation continued.  Obviously, as I'm sure you have inferred from the beginning of this post, George won this battle.  And, because the Fringe is going on, there are no other vacancies in town.  Literally.  I, however, am content in knowing that I will prove victorious in the WAR...if by no other means than verbally bashing this Euro-HOLE to the six people that regularly read my blog.  Do NOT stay at the Cowgate Tourist Hostel in Edinburgh, Scotland.  It is a dump sandwich.  Dirty as hell, half of the lights/outlets/appliances don't work properly or at all.  The beds are little more than coils wrapped in thin fabric (I got into bed last night and thought I was lying on my cell phone, until I realized it was on my bag next to the bed...).  Everytime I flush my toilet it sounds like a NASA shuttle launch.  Jaime's room smells like Gary Busey looks.  But, on top of it all, the staff doesn't think twice about honoring their previously made commitments.  And that, my dear friends, is just not right.

This is why my post is entitled "No Shmeservations"...as in, "reservations, shmeservations"...as in, "I don't give a rat's ass about what you THOUGHT/WERE TOLD/PAID FOR, you're getting what I want to give you because you're between a rock and a hard place, you hairy Yank."

I'm leeeeeavin'....on a Megabus.... (Jetplane, anyone?)

Had a ball in Glasgow, but it'sa time to head on East!  Saw Glasgow Cathedral and the Necropolis before heading north to Auchentoshan Distillery, where we had a private tour of the facilities because we are THAT AMAZING (and no one else showed up for the tour).  Then a walk around Sauchiehall Street led us to dinner at Bar Buddha, an Asian-themed restaurant serving international fare (go figure).  Then off to Molly Malone's, an Irish Pub, followed by a few pints at The Griffin.  Capped off our stay with two debatably unnecessary late-night pints from a beer vending machine in our hostel (SO getting one for my future man cave, btw...) that made us wake up feeling just as cheery as the overcast, drizzly weather in which we're about to trek.  Now off to catch the Megabus via a Scotch tasting in George Square with our new friend James, one of the proprietors of this fine establishment.  See yurgh in Edinburgh!

Summoreforya: http://s104.photobucket.com/albums/m194/jasonf44/Honeymoon%202010/

OY...need sleepy...

My lordy we're tired.  Great day, though :)

Plane from DC to London was not too bad aside from a couple turbulent bumps (still have Jaime's finger indentations in my arm) and not timing the movies right which resulted in missing the much anticipated "Shrek Forever After" (the multiple mini-bottles of free wine made up for it...thank you British Airlines).  Plane from London to Glasgow was good...then took a bus to city centre and walked about 15 blocks to our hostel (video tour of room to come) took a nap, had a bite, had a pint, and now off to bed.  Really..REALLY exhausted.  Can't wait to wake up refreshed tomorrow for some good goings on in Glasgow.  Gigitty!

Few pics from today: http://s104.photobucket.com/albums/m194/jasonf44/Honeymoon%202010/

The honeymoon doth begin...eth.

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HOW DID I DO????? #@)*%)#$&%(#$&%!!!!!!!!!!!!

How did it go?
How do you think you did?
Did it go well???
DID YOU PASS??????????

I blame myself.  It's my fault.  I didn't let you know.  I didn't tell you about the handful of questions that you're just not allowed...by law...under penalty of horrific, disgusting, bizarre, morally-reprehensible medieval torture...to ask someone who just sat for the bar.  *Deep breath*  It's ok--really, you didn't know.  But, as a service to all those recently finished, weary-eyed bar-sitters who've yet to hear from good ol' Aunt Gerty and Uncle Bob--those loving relatives who will UNDOUBTEDLY pose one of the muscle-tensing questions listed above--please distribute this message as a preemptive public service announcement.

I.  DO.  NOT.  KNOW.  HOW.  I.  DID.

I know you want to ask.  I know you're just ITCHING to ask!  And, joking aside, I do know that it comes from the heart :)  But, c'mon, people.  Fo' surious.  Are you really asking how I did on a 2-day long, 15-hour, poly-subject mixed-question law gauntlet that is designed to confuse, configured to fatigue, and rife with questions that elicit so much self-doubt it is no wonder that one of the test takers at my location actually had a stress-induced seizure midway through the exam??  (Follow-Up: after she stopped seizing, the seizee, in an act of extreme powerhouseness, CONTINUED TAKING THE TEST!  Kudos to you, muchacha.  Huevos Grande!  Well...um...you know what I mean...)

The answer, btw, is this: NO ONE KNOWS...yet.  There's no real way for the test-taker to gauge their performance until results are announced in November because the individual's raw score is ultimately scaled to reflect the collective results of everyone who took that state's bar.  So, even if we wanted to answer your INANE...*ahem*...sorry...heartfelt questions, there's no way to give you an accurate answer.  However, that's not the point.  The point is that just about every student who left the test center last Wednesday felt like large amounts of SUCK after two days of being metaphorically Chuck Norrised in the brain.  To then have to answer the ol' "How did it go???"......*shudder*....well, here, see if you can formulate an answer to at least one of the following "How did it go?" retorts and maybe that will give you an idea of where I'm coming from:

("How did it go," you ask?...)

How did it go the morning after you first learned about Jagermeister in college???


How did it go that time you took a line drive softball straight to the jugunga????


How did it go the first time your Mom caught you finding creative uses for a tubesock????


How did it go that time you got fired from your job after being accused of performing poorly AND smelling like Michael Moore after three hours of Jazzercize??????

Pickenz up vas I'm puttinz down, ya?  There is no good answer that you want to hear.  And I KNOW you don't want to sit through my glorious description of how the only thing more frustrating than not knowing the answers to numerous formidable essay questions was trying to block out the ever-present fart stench coming from the table behind me (That's right, 'older-guy-with-the-IBM-compatible who didn't even give me a pity laugh when I attempted a tension-cutting pre-exam joke about fluorescent earplugs.'  I know whatchoo did!!!)  

In sum, unless you're aching to be on the receiving end of a good ol' stink eye, my advice is to offer a "Hey, congrats on being done!," then clap your hands once and walk away like a Vegas dealer who's shift just ended.  It will be much appreciated, believe me.  As long as I have you here, let me just thank you, in advance, for NOT asking me if I have received my results seventeen times before Nov. 5.  And, thanks for NOT calling me up on Nov. 5 in eager anticipation of what you're "SURE" the results will be.  AND, thanks for NOT reassuring me that the February test will be a shoe-in because I "already know what to expect."   Basically, let's just not talk before next spring.  Nothing personal.  It'll just be safer that way.