I have now joined the 1990's.

Because I swear that is when my new-to-me-Italian-phone was made. 1998 to be precise. In fact, let me locate an image of this beauty (see below and to the left).

Except mine has been "improved" with brilliant blue hard shell. I hope I can get a Backstreet Boys ring tone. Or N'Sync...(no joshing, "Digital Get Down" just came on my iTunes. Tooo cool for school.)

N-E-Ways (who remembers that little tiding? Who can still probably fold a note at least 10 different ways?!?), let's get back to Italy. Yesterday -- I got my phone, but that has been established. Then, we went to the train station...uninteresting...Oh, Oh!! I remember!! We went to Santa Croce.

According to my good pal Wicki, Santa Croce is the largest Franciscan church in Florence and THE WORLD, and a minor basilica of the Roman Catholic Church. Legend even says that it was founded by St. Francis himself. Basically anyone who was worth anything in Italian history is buried there. Michelangelo, Machiavelli, Dante, even our good friend Galileo who, you know, wasn't the church's favorite son for a while. Honored folks that they are, the memorials are against the wall, each bigger than the last. We are talking 3D projections, complete with giant female angels holding tokens representing the trades that made each dignitary famous. The floor is covered in worn carvings commemorating either rich or important folks, names lost to memory and images not long from oblivion as well. It was terribly interesting, but looking back I probably should have rented an audio guide. Please remember that if you visit -- there was probably a lot that I missed!

On the way out to the garden area, we came upon the Museo d'Opera. Once again ignoring Jennie's looks of desperation, I dived in. I will say, however, this was one museum I could have done without. For an Opera museum, there was suprisingly little about...the Opera. In fact, none as far as I could tell. There were randomly scattered pieces of Renaissance art, which maybe would have told a story if I had paid closer attention, but really I did not feel compelled to.

On the way home we stopped in front of the Pitti Palace and just lounged for a while, taking in the sun and the breeze. It had been a pleasant day, but we were hungry! So we headed back to our apt for a homemade din-din. Jennie had pretty much cooked all "meals" (I am counting cappucini and banana's as a meal) up to this point, so it was my turn! Inspired by my surroundings, I decided to take a stab at making tomato sauce from scratch. Lacking a wise Italian Nonna to teach me such things, I have always been intimidated by the prospect of making tomato sauce. That, and I never liked it. But, not to be deterred by the lack of such a small thing as knowledge, I tried and it turned out pretty darn well! At least, Jenn said she liked it...I lack the skills (for now) to serve as a human lie detector, so I am forced to take it as truth. I wasn't entirely without help either, I used this recipe from the Smitten Kitchen for my base.

In other news, I was bit by a mosquito on my FACE last night, and have consequently declared all out war. I have killed six while writing this post (Jennie gags every time). I might be the only person to contract malaria while in Italy.

Peace.