Perugia has a lot of...characters.

There are the nice old men who work at the Parma store, who yell out "Ciao!" in the mornings when we walk by. There is the guy at the coffee shop who memorizes my order and calls me "friend." There is the woman who plays the same five-note song on her flute all day, every day, while her pierced, blue-haired boyfriend begs us for money. If she stops playing that song, the five dogs that sit at her feet all attack each other. Bizarre. There is the crazy preacher man who screams in the streets, staring up at the sky, Bible in his hands. There is the dreadlocked American guy who stands at the end of my street all day, every day. There are street performers and shopkeepers; there are little old men who walk around in suits and argue with each other. There are the goth teenagers and the little old nuns who sit in their windows. They are institutions here. You don't go a day without seeing any of them.

Unfortunately, there is also another institution. His name is Vest Guy.

He hangs around the school building, which is, unfortunately, near where I live. He walks up and down the street all day with shopping bags. I don't know what he needs to buy, because all he does is walk around. He always wears the same vest. You see him out of the corner of your eye, and he looks like a nice man with a nice face, middle aged...and then all of a sudden, he runs up to you, stands in front of you, and...twists his nipples.

I HATE the vest guy. Every girl hates him. He never speaks; he never insults you; he never touches anyone or really even gets in their way. He just does IT, always. Luckily, he is only out in the mornings. It's pretty well known that you don't make eye contact with the Vest Guy. But you see him out of the corner of your eye, getting ready. Arms go up. Fingers are ready. And then, when you least expect it, if you make eye contact or even look up by accident, BAM! There he is in front of you. Doing IT.

Now obviously he has mental problems. But I don't care. That is absolutely the last thing I ever want to see when I am going to class. Or going to my apartment. Or going to eat. That makes me NOT WANT TO EAT. If you are a middle-aged man, NO ONE wants to EVER see you do that. EVER. I don't know WHY you would EVER think that they would.

I try to ignore him. But today, I was coming home from a run. I was in a great mood. I was hungry, I was nice and tired and happy, and I was late for class. I was rushing down the street when all of a sudden - BAM - OUT OF NOWHERE. Vested.

I threw up my arms. I screamed. "BASTA!"(STOP! ENOUGH!) Everyone on the street looked. They were happy to see it.

So was he, I'm sure.

I should have stayed quiet, I suppose. It's probably best not to yell at the mentally ill. But COME ON. This is where I LIVE. I'm not sorry for yelling. I'm actually sorry that I didn't take his vest, pull it over his face, and punch him out.

There are a lot of weirdos in Italy. However, what I have noticed is that ALL OF THEM ARE MEN. Everywhere you go, there is a crowd of ten men following you yelling "Ciao Bella!" or an 80-year-old grandfather making dirty comments at you or a shopkeeper hitting on you. It's awful. It's worse at night, when the teenagers are out. Actually, their hobby is harassment.

So we don't go out alone at night. We keep a low profile. We wear hoods, since they go right for the blondes. These people are harmless; it's just annoying, everyone tells us. They're not doing it to offend you; they're just Italian. Oh, okay.

I still don't get it. Women make up MORE THAN HALF OF THE WORLD'S POPULATION. You'd think that, when one passes by within a hundred foot radius, the men would have learned how to just... deal with it. Or at least the men over fourteen years of age. Or fifty years of age.

I'm sure there are nice men in Italy. But let me be honest. I have not met one yet, with the exception of the coffee man and the Parma men who make our sandwiches. I don't know how Italian women manage to ignore them so well. But I DO know why so many women here join convents. Hint: maybe it isn't all about religion. Maybe it's about escaping the CIAO BELLAS and the men grabbing their hearts and pretending to fall on the ground when they see women.

Sorry for that little rant. Nothing much new. Got an Italian haircut and dyed my hair brown since I was bored. I like it. We walked all around Perugia this weekend and found sunny parks and stores and churches and museums. I'm really looking forward to next month when I get to just stay here and explore. It's a great city, even if the people in it are ridiculous. Had a field trip to Rome, it was great. Lots of new stuff. The cool thing about Rome is it's laid out like a cross: St. Peter, Paul, John and Mary basilicas with the Coloseum in the middle. So we saw those. Beautiful. Went to a coffee safari last night and learned about the history and types of coffee and where to get it around here; also found out there is a MILK STEAMER YOU CAN BUY TO MAKE CAPUCCINOS IN YOUR HOUSE. Yes. Also, I had the best coffee of my life. It was espresso, whipped cream, chocolate powder, PIECES OF SUGAR MERINGUE, AND NUTELLA. It also made me stay up all night. Whoops.

That's about it. Amsterdam this weekend. I'm sure I will come back with some kind of story.

Also: for those of you that I didn't email (uh, sorry, got excited), I got another article up on this website for my internship. Link: http://www.cafeabroad.com/dev/index.php?dir=article&page=details_home&type=fe131d7f5a6b38b23cc967316c13dae2&PHPSESSID=6735826a6f9baaa8023b76c8921345f2

Or, since that link is completely ridiculous, go to cafeabroad.com home, and it's near the bottom on the homepage. My other story is still in there in the archives; just click Perugia on the right side, then articles, and it's the first one, called "A Greek Tragedy." They are a bit corny, but what do you want, they're supposed to be about finding myself haha.

That's it. Time to go to the butcher, the fruit market, the veggie market, AND the bread bakery to get ingredients. Tonight we are making American dinner (MASHED POTATOES) and tomorrow we are making chili. Uhhh. Trying to make chili.

Ciao.