Bastardo

On Saturday, Paul had a soccer game in the town of Bastardo, and yes, it means exactly what you think it does. What's even funnier: the townspeople call themselves "Bastardi." (An "I" at the end of a word usually indicates it's plural... you get the picture)

Paul got to play about 30 minutes, which is about 29.5 minutes more than last time. His teammates were calling him "gladiator." The game was 0-0, and the highlight was when almost everyone on Paul's team was getting mad at the ref for a bad call.

Saturday night, some friends came over. I played an Italian card game with Lorella. Paul and Alessro (Lorella's son) joined us later. When we were eating Marcella said I looked like someone famous. It turned out the person was infamous for killing an English girl last October. Topics at the dinner table ranged from water to politics. No seriously, they were actually talking about water, and they talked about it for awhile.

I don't think I'm going to go to Rome tomorrow. Paul has soccer practice because tuesday is Fat Tuesday, and I do not want to go to Rome by myself the first time. I'm curious to know how crazy Rome gets on Fat Tuesday. I'm wondering if we could go for the morning/afternoon and come back in the evening before the partying begins... We'll see.

Buona Notte