Sitting in the usual Good Cafe

I’m back in Italy, soon to continue my overpriced, character-forming, thought-provoking college education. The general sentiment over here is one of rejoicing, mostly over the idea of a maid coming in to make my bed each day. For ladies and gentlemen, I am living in the very hotel I stayed in at the very beginning of the summer. Remember? The one that made me pay 60 euros for a shuttle service I never used? The very one that is now telling me I did not pay the 60 euros?

That’s right. I gave the 60 euros to someone who probably pocketed it. The lesson for everyone reading this is that SOME PEOPLE JUST AREN’T NICE, even if they are old and have a beard. What I SHOULD have done is pinned the 60 euro to my forehead before hanging myself from the bathroom light fixture. Then someone would have been bound to notice, such as the maid, and since maids who scrub toilets and make beds are nicer than embittered men working long hours punching in reservations at the concierge, she would have taken it to the correct person, or taken it home to her young, underfed children, so the 60 euros would have been going to a good cause instead of to some old man’s chewing tobacco.

I don’t know many of the people in the program. Correction: I know hardly anyone on this program, aside from the precious few who tolerate me because I know how to get to the grocery store and how to ask for the check. You’d think these enviable and marketable qualities would put me in the in crowd of the group. Not so! I’m the one sitting in the hotel room at 12:41 AM instead of going out with the others. Precisely 41 minutes ago I did NOT feel like going out. I felt like July 41 minutes ago. Then, ala Adrianna in true Adrianne fashion, about 25 minutes ago I decided that I AM MY MOTHER’S DAUGHTER FOR CHRISSAKE, and that the people in the program aren’t intimidating, and I should go out and mingle. Naturally, no one answers their phones so that I could join up with them, most likely because they’re thinking “GOD, she’s going to want to wear her purple polka dot tube top with hot pink pants, isn’t she?” Hence my current isolation in the hotel room where “60 Euros, thief!” is written in every corner.

The only choice I have now is to do laundry. By hand. On a Friday night.

Awesome.

I could make this night more interesting by while washing clothes, I could come up with sweeping judgments about everyone in the program. Or I could ponder over what career would indeed be a good fit to my flighty character.

What I am more inclined to do, however, is come up with what superhuman power I would want to have if I could have any in the world. Last week, I traveled next to a very smart and practical girl on the train from Bodroghalom who told me that she intended to be a doctor, since there were too many lawyers out there. Nevermind how directionless and unaccomplished I felt at that moment, I was relishing the fact that she was addressing me in the formal, and that she wanted to talk to me! Adrianne! The Hungarian with the American accent!

So we talked about magical powers. And I realized I would not know which one I’d want.

SO, The Magical Power Adrianne Wishes She Had Tonight (because tonight’s theme is evidently flightiness):

To be able to turn into anyone from any century at any time.

Think of how cool that could be! I could suddenly decide I’d want to be George Washington in the 20^th century, and granted, it wouldn’t do much good, but it might give you really neat knowledge or skills or anything.

I could revive Al Capone when I need someone mobbed, I could be Annie Sullivan when I need to teach a blind child, and I could be Florence Nightengale when I have to heal thousands of sick people.

The possibilities are endless! And no one could say “you don’t know what it’s like to be me” because, lo, now I can! Naturally, I guess this superpower would lead to a huge identity crisis, but some sacrifices have to be made for the sake of the betterment of the world.

I could also become that person who I gave the 60 euro to and give it to the right person instead of keeping it.

So I hope everyone else’s school year has started off with a blast because golly, the excitement is well-nigh uncontainable here.