<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9180115.jpg"><img class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-7863" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9180115-225x300.jpg" alt="" width="225" height="300" /></a>I mentioned previously that I consumed a bit too much (half a bottle) of my new favorite wine on Night 358.  This wine is indeed fab, so if you ever come across it, then cin cin!  (That means "drink half a bottle" in Italian.)

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Rocket scientist that I was that day, I also chose to celebrate my "feel the fear and do it anyway" bike moment with a mojito at lunch.  And a nightcap later that evening.  And I think I may have tasted someone's homemade beer.  I don't even like beer.  But I'm a gracious guest.  I would rather take a few sips then insult someone's pride and joy.

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Did I mention that I really don't drink too much or too often?  I'm that girl who always orders water.  It drives my friend, Sarah, nuts.

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Combine the day's sloshfest with only a few hours sleep, and you have a woman who has no business boarding a bus headed for Rome.

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[caption id="attachment_7926" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="You know you&#39;re hungover when...you&#39;re at an autogrill in Italy and the only thing you can even think about stomaching is Pringles."]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200208.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-7926" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200208-300x263.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="263" /></a>[/caption]

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Shame.  On.  Me.

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I am an embarrassment to all Foodies across the good ol' U.S. of A.  I misrepresented our kind, and I am truly sorry for my actions.

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It gets worse.

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<span style="color: #800080; font-size: medium;"><strong>What I <em>really</em> wanted more than <em>anything</em> that day was Taco Bell.  </strong></span>

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That's right.  I would have sacrificed an entire week's worth of cappuccinos for two Crunchy Taco Supremes (hold the tomato, please).

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Horrific, isn't it?

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<span style="font-size: medium; color: #008000;"><strong>As fate would have it, I was SOL because tacos don't exist in Italia.  I believe they are banned.  </strong></span>Along with any other ethnic cuisine that isn't Italian.  Except for Pringles.  The CEO's grandmother more than likely hails from Italy.

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After the longest, bumpiest, and most nauseating bus ride of my life, we arrived in Roma.  Upon exiting the bus, I kissed the ground.  (Not really.  I added that for dramatic effect.  My parents, however, <em>did</em> suffer through a nightmare of a plane trip once from Cancun.  After vacating the plane, the passengers actually kissed the ground before racing to the nearest restroom.  I suppose that I should be thankful for small miracles.  It can always be worse, my friends.  It can always be worse.)

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My cousins and I discussed lunch.  Bill voted for McDonald's.  Apparently, a junk food demon possessed my body that day.  I heard myself uttering, "I'll have McDonald's!"  I don't even like McDonald's.  But I am a gracious cousin who supports my kin when he needs me.

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<span style="font-size: medium; color: #008000;"><strong>Rhonda gasped.  I thought she might grab the nearest crucifix (we were a block away from the Vatican) and shout, "Begone, vile junk food demon!!!!"</strong></span>

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Instead, she put her foot down and insisted on a trattoria, God bless her.

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I scoped out the menu.  "GRILLED CHEESE!!!!!"  Another small miracle.

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Bill carefully studied every menu item as he always does.  "FRENCH FRIES!!!!"  A miracle of biblical proportions.  It must have been our close proximity to the Vatican.

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Time passed.  And passed.  And passed.  Italians enjoy leisurely meals.

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The waiter arrived with our lunch.

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This is what grilled cheese in Rome looks like:

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[caption id="attachment_7927" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="You got it! It&#39;s a piece of cheese that is grilled."]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200229.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-7927" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200229-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>[/caption]

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Bill immediately looked around for our waiter.

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This time, it was I who gasped, "NO!!!!"

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I am by no means going to insult an Italian because his grilled cheese is different than my grilled cheese.  I am not going to be one of <em>those</em> Americans.  I AM A GRACIOUS GUEST!!! Even when I'm nursing one of the worst hangovers of my life and want to cry at this point.

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Instead of crying, I turned lemons into lemonade.

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[caption id="attachment_7930" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Or, if you want me to be literal, I turned a piece of cheese that is grilled and a hunk of bread into an American grilled cheese sandwich."]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200230.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-7930" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200230-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>[/caption]

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With a full belly, I was ready to conquer the Ancient World!  I had only the rest of the afternoon.  (I would leave for the airport at 3 a.m. the next morning!)  Rome wasn't built in a day, and I had only 1/2 a day to explore.  Not ideal, but neither is a lack of a Taco Bell nor a piece of cheese that is grilled slapped on top of a slice of bread.  When in Rome, you make do.  It's Roma!!!  It's magnificent!!!

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We descended upon Ancient Rome, and I stood transfixed.  I started to cry.  Not from the hangover, but from a sense of awe that I had never experienced.

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I am from a baby country.  Since I had never been outside of North America, I had never witnessed anything of such historical depth.  Sure, I had just seen medieval villages all over Tuscany, but those remains were <em>new</em> compared to these!

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If you've never been you <em>must</em> go.  Please leave more than 1/2 a day.  In the meantime, you can visit through my photo portal.

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200250.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7933" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200250-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a><a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200254.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7934" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200254-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200302.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7938" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200302-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a><a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200307.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7939" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200307-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200322.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7940" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200322-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a><a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200319.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7941" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200319-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200269.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7935" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200269-225x300.jpg" alt="" width="225" height="300" /></a><a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200333.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7937" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200333-225x300.jpg" alt="" width="225" height="300" /></a>

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You're probably wondering about the final photo.  Remember when I mentioned in Day 358's post that Italians graffiti <em>everything,</em> and I do mean <em>everything</em>?  I learned in the coliseum that Italians have been graffiti-ing since the beginning of time.  Yes, there's <em>ancient</em> graffiti depicting gladiators in the coliseum!

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The graffiti above is modern day Texas A &amp; M graffiti.  Not in Texas, but in Rome.  When in Rome, my cousin just so happened to wear his Texas A &amp; M shirt.  Oh, the oddities and surprises of life!

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When in Rome, my cousin and I decided to order french fries for a SECOND time that day at dinner, much to Rhonda's horror.

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200334.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7942" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9200334-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

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There was no ketchup to be found.  Italians eat their french fries with mayo.  When in Rome, do as the Romans do.  Since we are gracious guests, we ate our french fries with mayo, too.

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