De Terminal pt 1.

June 21, 2008
Aeroporti di Roma
Rome, Italy
Italy: 5:47 PM
America: 9:47 AM
Days in Italy: 1

I arrive safely, and first thing's first: internet it. It's been 18 hours since I left LA so I'm due for a Faceb-- I mean, e-mail check. After searching the Aeroporti di Roma a good twenty minutes, I'm thrilled to find an outlet inconspicuously nestled in a corner of the far upper food court. While I can charge my buddy, he to my melancholy can't find me any working internet.

I swiftly move on to the next task on my list: Eat!
Ordering was fun, which was basically question marks, eyebrow furrows, and lots of pointing. I get the pizza combo, which they call "Menu Pizza." It's funny, with the combo they only offer you Coke, water, or beer. I point to the orange Fanta fountain, but she insists the only soda you can get is "ko-ka ko-la." Afterwards she turns me to another stand and a lady hands me this tiny cup of coffee, which I partner with a handful of undecipherable drinkdemints.

I enjoy my pizza margherita, but despite my best efforts to avoid the sun, he keeps following me to my seat. Not to mention all the different packets I got for my dessert coffee ended up just being sugar. I decide I'll unplug my charging partner in crime, get some gelato and go somewhere cool to dive into my Italy book...which...I can't....find...in my bag. Uh oh.

"And so it begins..." Patrick's voice echoes from past epiphanous instances like this.

After grabbing a medium pistacchio, I retrace my steps and circle around to where I had exited. I can re-enter, it's just that I have to go through inspection again. As I struggle to handle my things I begin to think the gelato maybe wasn't a good idea. It's delicious, by the way, the cone they give you is a like a really large cake cone, but it tastes like a sugar cone.

Embarrassed but still hopeful I prepare to ask nearby employees of the Aeroporti di Roma by searching that phrase in my other book, which thankfully I haven't lost yet:

"Oh pehr..so eel mio...leebro...
Oh perso eel mio...libro...
Ho perso il mio libro..."

But once I get their attention I lose all I just recited, instead just saying "uh perso" again and again while opening the corresponding page and pointing. They just look around and shake their heads.

No dice...meaning no book. Within hours of my Italy arrival I achieve my first lost item of the trip. God is still good; He's always good. I'm thankful it was only a book (by the way guys, thanks for the gift) and not something bigger...like...like...uh oh...WHERE'S MY LUGGAGE?!

Don't get me wrong, I'm not that surprised by absent mind. I pace quickly to the return entrance and see my bag sitting in the corner.

"Uh...mi-- mio..."
"Oh tuo?" the man replies.
The lady working the x-ray charades licking an ice cream cone.
They both chuckle, and I join them, sheepishly looking to the floor.

And so here I am. I think I just fell aslee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeem . Yup, I did it again. Okay I'm done for now...