So I went to Europe. We got stuck in DC getting out there, because the flights were full, but it was cool. We explored the capital a bit and made it on the flight to Milan on the day after. No problems, and the hostel in DC wasn't that bad either. So we made it to Milan a day late but no dollar short. Milan was okay, but a little flat. Flat cities disorient me. I'm used to living in cities with landmark hills, mountains, oceans or rivers. But we quickly ran out of things to do in Milan. Theres the high fashion shopping, and the Duomo, but that's about it, and our hostel was in the middle of nowhere.

So after two nights we got out of there and went to Rome. Rome rocks. No maybes, sortas, or any other bullshit. It rocks. It's not flat, there's a river, the Pope, straciatella gelato, boys who are fucking stylish (overly?) and hot, tanned and beautiful, and good pizza. I got some cool clothes in Rome. We went to the Vatican, and, unfortunately missed the Pope's weekly greeting, but hey, what can you do. The Sistine Chapel was sort of disappointing. I was expecting gigantic panels, but the finger touching thing is only like five square feet. But hey, Michelangelo (sp?) is still a pimp. And there was actually (surprisingly) some cool modern art in the Vatican Museum. We also rented Vespas and rode around Rome on them for a day. And that was cool. I fell off mine though, in a parking lot, slipped on some leaves, and I have a savage scab and future scar to prove it. Rome has lots of kids, lots of fun, lots of food, and lots more. We stayed for five nights, and I want to go back for more.

We took a train from Rome to Venezia afterwards, and it was interesting. I wouldn't say I like Venice, but it was beautiful. We met a cool Venetian dude named Ian who was super hot and Scott wanted to fuck him. We mostly did what all the other stupid fucking tourists do in Venice, which is shop, wander, and look at the churches. Venice, by the way, is also flat, but since there are all canals, and no streets, and no cars, it didn't bother me. We went out and swam at the beaches at Lido, and that was cool. We didn't realize until after we were dressing to leave that they were private beaches, but fuck, I don't care. It was beautiful and I felt beautiful. The Peggy Gugenheim Museum had the best modern art of any of the museums we went to in Italy, too.

After three nights in a cool but strange hostel (Archie's Place, if you ever are there, is neet, but it's odd, you gotta pay for showers but the people are cool, and it looks like a rubbish heap. I'd suggest it if you go there. It's cheaper than most, and with character.) we took a night train to Praha. We managed to get stuck in Vienna for a few hours, transferring trains, but we mostly just sat around in train station writing postcards.

But we made it to Praha (Prague) later that day, and to me, along with Roma, it was definitely the highlight of our trip. It's not flat at all, there's a beautfiul river and even more amazing castle on a huge hill, great public transit and the place is fucking cheap. Interesting things we did: we went to the Prague Castle, bought old communist cameras for cheap prices, went to Karluv Most (Charles Bridge) which I'd read about in The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier And Klay, we went to Kafka's grave, which meant a lot to me. I like Jewish cemetaries. I like wearing yarmulkeh's and I like feeling Jewish, even though technically I'm not since my mother was Catholic and Dad was Jewish, but hey, I certainly identify with my Jewish heritage much more, and fuck, I look like a Jew. The truly interesting things we did in Praha: stay in a fucking rocking gay run apartment with a kitchen, two bedrooms and a living room and central entry room; the dude that worked there, Lucas, was super hot and both me and Scotty wanted to shag him, even though he is straight (but open-minded); we had sex in a gay sauna in the darkroom down below where there were little cubicals for fucking and then a bigger room with a TV playing pornography where people go to whack off; had German sex tourists hit on and sleaze, hardcore, on our friend Max who came to visit us for a few days; drank absinthe in Czech bars and (illegally) shipped a few bottles home as presents for people. I hadn't done any drugs in quite a while, and that shit fucks you up. It's like a lot of alcohol mixed with a bit of acid. But I'm back now, and I'm back to the straight way of things, but it was fun in Prague.

So, after a week there, we decided at the last minute to extend out trip a bit, and went to Berlin for a night. We went, mostly, to look at architecture, since Berlin is awesome, architecturally. Berlin architecture is amazing, but the city is way too damn flat. We went to the Jewish Museum, and it was great. The Reichstag, also, was amazing, with it's helical ramps in the glass dome on the roof. But we only stayed for one night in Berlin, and after the second day we took the train to Frankfurt (which also is way too flat) to try to make it home. We got stuck in Frankfurt, sleeping at the airport, for two days, and then Scott made it on a flight, and I got on one later that day and made it to DC, where I took a train in the middle of the night to New York to visit Laura and look for an apartment (which I found).

Then after three nights, I came home. It's been a long month. It's been a fucking amazing month. I love Scott. Our relationship is beautiful, and as of the Fourth Of July, it's been a fucking year. A YEAR. I made it back in time to see him on our anniversary, and I love him.

Oh yeah, I had a seizure in Roma, and I'm a little worried about it because Scott tested my blood sugar afterwards and it was only 71, and that's not that low. So I may have problems. Big ones. And I'm going to see a doctor on Monday about my knee, because it has been hurting a lot. I'm probably going to have surgery for real this time. My dad wants me to push the doctor for surgery next week. We'll see though. I don't want to make any rash decisions, but my knee really hurts. I don't know about the seizures though. Diabetes? Maybe, but I don't want to take any chances. My diabetes has been pretty good lately. I feel good though. Really good. I'm ready to move out of this fucking house in Santa Cruz and move to a beautiful (six floor walkup) apartment in the East Village, and go to school. I'm also making a promise to pay more attention to my parents. Since I moved out, I hear from my brother that they have been having some problems, and it could be serious. I don't know though. I have a difficult time reconciling this with my previously undoubted belief that they were the most stable relationship I'd ever seen. I don't know though. I would be disappointed if they broke up. Really disappointed. I think they are good for each other. I don't know what to think.

Enough of a boring but meaningful entry.