May 5, 1998 Jesse is singing "I'll Cover You," I've had a few cups of chardonnay, Eva looks like a quadriplegic in her inflatable neck pillow, and I'm in serious lust with an Italian supermodel who is eating his second portion of salad, really likes red wine, reads GQ, wears Ralph Lauren underwear, and just so happens to be sitting diagonally across from me. I cannot take my eyes off of him, and I think it must be the wine, the altitude, and his utterly perfect beauty that are all just tearing me up. Sometimes I fantasize that he is staring at me. I dig it. I want to offer him my People, because he looks really bored and lonely. He's people-watching and Eva keeps nudging me to find out what he's doing since I have a better view. I don't think he's really looking at me, but I'm blushing nonetheless. We made it to Florence and we're relaxing in Gena and Angelo's apartment. On the flight, my obsession for the supermodel waned, Eva puked twice, the man behind us snored like a pig in shit and I could hear him over Phantom, which I had turned up full blast on my headphones. We decided to just hit the road today despite our jet-lagged exhaustion. We went to the Duomo. Wow. I went first to the cathedral, or Duomo, the centerpiece of town. I defy anyone to turn the corner into the cathedral piazza and not have his little heart leap. It is one of Europe's great sites. Bill Bryson, Neither Here Nor There We also saw all sorts of wonderful sculptures. Gena and Angelo's apartment is great, too. We're drinking bubbly white wine and singing "Closer to Fine," piled on the couch, and now we are watching Empire Records in Italian. I think I love Florence. more florence © 1999 ~ 2003 eb