Full Immersion nel Megalomanismo

Being back to Europland.

No wondering why people is being asking if this was really the end of Full Immersion nel Megalomanismo or not. Well, I’m not really gonna blame anyone here, I totally agree with you guys: I’ve been a horrible blogger lately. I can’t even think that I haven’t been writing for almost two months. Hopefully a few of you are still waiting for some update. And by the way, no, this blog is not closed, and yes, I will keep updating it once I come back to California, not as often as I used to, but I will do so, promise!

The title of this post is somehow dedicated to one of my American friend or I should better say my only real american friend Peter who refers to Europe as a country itself and not an actual continent. “Francesco, this is time to get a hair cut. I can actually see an European mullet (that actual awkward extension of hair on the back head also known as cresta alla Reggio Calabrese) growing on the back of you head: cut it off!” or “No Francesco, let’s not enter in Abercrombie & Fitch, it’s a store for Europeans only.” Well, Europland just sounded more interesting: in case you don’t think so well, just screw you ns27 .

Being back brought up a lot of thinking. I now see everything with a foreign eye. It’s weird indeed. The night I got home, after sitting at the table with my parents ready to have dinner, I realized how everything seemed to be coming out from one of those movies where Italian Americans are playing main roles, for instance Il Padrino, Sleepers, or Jersey Shores. Well, maybe Jersey Shores it’s not quiet the case.

My father screaming vaffanculo out loud to every car driver who would have cut his way in the middle of a round intersection on our way back home, or I should better say screaming vaffanculo out loud to every car driver.

Narrow streets everywhere, even in centro (downtown) of Bologna. Every time that a car in the other lane of the street was coming toward us, I was afraid that my father and I would have got into a car accident.

Buildings not higher than 300 feet anywhere.

But I noticed the real good stuff just when I got home. The yellowish and not too bright light in the kitchen, a dozen of Tortelli on a plate waiting for me. The italian espresso made with the old coffee machine of the house, and with it, the thoughtlessness of my mum that leaves it there on the stove till the coffee starts burnings and boiling out the top of the coffee machine. It’s still delicious though. The flushing device of the toilette was almost ridiculous: the way the water flows down the hole is so odd. Even the italian bide’ was another one of those re-discovery that made my day a little better. Everything looked so Italian and so somehow foreign that I felt more excited than Elisabeth Gilbert in her last book Eat, Pray, Love.

Euro coins are brutally deforming my card keeper; normally in my card keeper I save only bills. I didn’t remember they give so much coin change in Italy. If you don’t pay attention at the end of the day you’ll find yourself keeping the rhythm of you steps by shaking tons of euro coins in your right pocket that is suddenly got into an ideal piggy-bank.

The only part I didn’t really appreciate was the low temperature – wow. Moving from San Diego to Reggio nell’Emilia is a step you don’t wanna take before going through a special survival training. Got fever right the day after I arrived that also went away the very same night but still it wasn’t such a wonderful surprise.

In two words, it was a wonderful and, in a good way, shocking reenter.

What could I add? Oh well, Happy Christmas guys! I’m happy to be back home! ns3

Halloween 2010

Halloween: what a nice holiday to celebrate. Two years ago I would have never thought I was going to end up liking this day so much. Well, this is what I decided to be this year: half devil and half angel. Even though I made the call at the really last minute I could put all pieces together in time.

This year I needed Peter’s help for the eye make up, and by the way yes, he is a genius at that. Thanks Peter. Here a couple of pictures taken in the bathroom while I was getting dressed for the party:

Once we got ready, before leaving we went to the leaving room where Judy was waiting us to take a couple pictures. Well if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t have had pictures of my costume at all. thanks Judy!

I don’t think I ever wrote anything about my new two roommates. For all those people who have no idea who I am talking about here they are: Estelle dressed as a Gangster and Sarah dressed as a nerd (which was clearly noticeable by her t-shirt – covered in the picture – that says “I Nerds”). I know this is not very relevant but for some reason I keep thinking that I would like to wear glasses such as Sarah’s in regular life, and people keep telling me I have some problems. Wouldn’t you wear them? I just love’em!

And even here, there it is, the picture that reflects my ego.

When witches go riding,
and black cats are seen,
the moon laughs and whispers,
‘tis near Halloween.
~Author Unknown~

A Stupid Video

Here it is. This is the kind of things my roommates and I do whenever we feel bored. Well, watch this video just if you have nothing better to do. I’m serious.

The next post won’t be a video. It won’t even be as retarded as this last post. I promise. ns22

Informative Speech for my Speech Class

This is one of the most ridiculous videos ever made by Francesco Meli. You are about to watch an informative speech about the dumping business conducted by the Camorra in Naples.

Well, at least I completed the assignment. Waiting for the grade.

[updated 31st of October 2010]

grade: 92% – A

Maybe within the next year…

Maybe within the next year I’ll be able to start writing posts on this blog as I used to. Right now school is keeping me super busy, and being so, I’ve almost no spare time to spend on this blog. I’ll write as often as I can, but still, I’ll be sort of absent.

This is meant to be a courtesy message, for letting you know that I’m still alive and even more important I still care about all of you.

Thanks all, and sorry for the inconvenient inconvenience.

21st birthday in Vegas!

Finally I find the time. I’ve been postponing for so long that I’m ashamed of myself. But in between one thing and another I barely have the time to breathe. Before even starting I’d like to say sorry to all those people who wrote me personal e-mails waiting for an answer. I promise I won’t forget; just give me a few days more to get organized. ns22

When I was thinking about writing this article, I felt like I had to say something more than “I went to Vegas for my 21st, dude. I got wasted, I did stuff I cannot even try to describe because it was so crazy, you wouldn’t believe it.” Well, I want to reveal why people call me Pinky. Why? Because it’s somehow related to the day I was born and I feel like that many of you call me so, but have no clue about the meaning behind it.

On the 17th of September, 1989, there was born a purple baby: Francesco. Purple? Oh yeah, indeed. When he was still inside his mother’s belly, the umbilical cord nearly killed him by causing an absence of oxygen. His parents and his siblings were worried about it, but a few days after this weirdo was born, the color became lighter and lighter, almost normal. Just one part remained purple: one big spot right on the bottom of his back. His big brother then somehow, suddenly came up with the ridiculous nickname: Pinky. After 21 years this nickname is still alive. Fortunately here in California none of his friends know about this silly nickname but once he is back to Italy he is sure to find people who are still calling him Pinky – his father included.

Well, after this short story about this unfortunate baby, what about going back to My 21st birthday?

After renting a KIA Spectra, at 10 AM Miss T. and I left San Diego headed to Las Vegas Nevada. Miss T.? Didn’t she go back to Brazil? Yes, she did. She also came back to California just for me, willing to celebrate my birthday together. Over there, my actual roommate Pin – went there by plane – was impatiently waiting for us. So what we were waiting for? Let’s hit the road dammit!

A marvelous view accomapanied us for the duration of the journey.

After 500 miles or so, at around 3 PM we arrived feeling better than what we could imagine.

Once we checked in at the Golden Nugget, we changed and we went to the swimming pool downstairs. The sun hit so badly that we had to hurry because the air was close to be unbreathable. The first thing came up in mind was to get a drink as the mature boy I turned to be, so I got my wallet and my passport and with a puffed chest I asked for 2 Vodka Redbulls, waiting for him to carefully check my id.

Zero. None. Nada. I paid and I went away with my drinks and a sad espression on my face. How was that he didn’t card me at all for such an alcoholic beverage like a Vodka Redbull? I remembered how they used to asked me the id for a freakin’ water and now that I ordered a drink for men, nothing, nada. It sucked!

After a couple hours spent in this awesome swimming pool we went in the room upstairs enjoying the comfort of one of the best king bed I’ve ever ██████ in. (Thanks for the censorship Gonzo.)

At night, we ended up being so tired that we really couldn’t do anything more than taking a walk on The Strip, the main street in Vegas and enjoy the night lights, which was not little anyways. Miss T. thinking that it was funny, bought one of those alcoholic slurpy kind of things served in a stripteaser glass that tasted delicious and looked ridiculous at the same time. And, by the way yes, Miss T. got jealous that I was touching the glass’ butt! ns27

The day after, feeling much better, we decided to hit the road as early as we could to go to the Stratosphere, the highest hotel in Vegas which is equipped with roller coasters right at the top of it. On our way to the car, we passed across the swimming pool. Why should we have been in a hurry? A couple hours in the swimming pool just to start the day in the right way wasn’t going to hurt anyone. ns3

around 12 AM we left the swimming pool headed to the sky.

After riding the X-scream we decided to leave the Stratosphere to go where Pin was waiting us. On our way down, I saw a young girl that was taking caricatures and I really couldn’t resist. I’ve always liked caricatures; they exaggerate  the unique features of someone in a funny way. I just love them and I love this one in particular.

After almost one hour of walking up and down to Vegas, we found Pin (it is still hard to… I’d rather  say it is still an impossible mission to comunicate with him on the phone). I still remember that episode where I was trying to teach him how to say “buddy”. Instead of saying “buddy” he would say “party”. And I was like, “no dude, not party, buddy! Check this out. You are saying P not B. Do what I do: B-B-B…BbBbBb”, and he went like “P-P-P…Pp Pp”.

Well Miss T. had the clever idea to frame this moment.

Pin and I love to take retarded pictures together. Our favorite pose is the one where we need to stay as serious as we can. Some people think we are just stupid, others think we are hilarious. Obviously, we are hilarious.

After a couple pictures, we went shopping at one of those big malls. I got a nice pair of shiny black shoes for the night: when you want to party in Vegas you better look fine because they let you enter in the club just if you are perfectly matching with all those other rich figli di papá in there. Got the shoes. Got the energy. Got the age. What the hell? What can stop me now?

Thanks God, the party is around the corner. The adrenaline is coming up. Vegas, the night, oh my God I still feel it inside me!

We got dressed and around 9.30 PM we were already in line to get in. I had to sell one of my lungs to enter but Jesus Christ it was worth it!

Well XS is the only club I’ve ever been so far here in America so I don’t really have much to compare it with, but I can guarantee you that we don’t have anything like it in Italia!

Every time I go to Vegas I feel like I go the City of Sin and the whole idea is very exciting… Hundreds of buildings designed to entertain people (and get their money) but, at the same time, give them the highest level of excitement that can’t be found anywhere else. Vegas makes you feel important. Then, once you get home with minus $200,000 in the bank account you also feel miserable, but damn, it is worth it!

Thanks Miss T. Thanks Pin. I love you!

P.S. In this article I said everything and nothing of what happened over there.

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” No doubt about it!

Arrivati alla fine del primo semestre estivo

Dopo una brutale attesa di 2 settimane il tanto atteso voto di Fisica e’ arrivato.

Qui invece, il link al recente post riguardante il lavoro svolto durante il corso.

Alla prossima.