You only see what your eyes want to see
How can life be what you want it to be
You're frozen
When your heart's not open

You're so consumed with how much you get
You waste your time with hate and regret
You're broken
When your heart's not open

Mmmmmm, if I could melt your heart
Mmmmmm, we'd never be apart
Mmmmmm, give yourself to me
Mmmmmm, you hold the key

Not every day is an adventure; some days are just mundane. Some days you travel, and sit three hours on a train ride home; others you sit two hours in a courtyard, reading about comparative civil procedure, while Madonna floats faintly on the wind.

It's amazing how some parts of life can easily be left behind, yet they seem so essential to us when they're available. Television's a good example. It's not like we're in the boondocks here - there is a TV in the lounge. But save for the first night here, when I couldn't really get to sleep and was wide awake at five in the morning, I haven't watched it. I know - how could I, when it's all in Italian. But there is CNN, and there is a VCR, and English-language movies can be rented from the Blockbuster Video (you read that right) a short walk from the Rome Center.

Music's another matter. I miss having it around, because I almost always have the radio on at home. To me, music defines my life. I remember what song was on the radio the last time I walked out of a job I really hated, even though it was just over nine years ago this past month (Heartbreak Beat by the Psychedelic Furs, if you must know). Certain songs bring back memories every time I hear them. I don't think I'm alone in this regard.

So it was with yesterday. It was a slow day, with the morning spent doing laundry, and a good chunk of the afternoon spent blogging and blog-surfing. I finally decided to enjoy the weather and do some reading outside around 2 or so. Someone with the graduate school, newly arrived from Chicago, brought not only a CD player, but speakers (or maybe it was a boom box). Thoughts of "why did you bring that" aside, it was nice to hear some music for a change, for if there's not a cacophony of voices in the courtyard, there is silence.

Hello darkness my old friend
I've come to talk to you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision
That was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

Presently, the pseudo-DJ was visited by friends, and declarations of welcome and happiness overrode the soft music. Eventually, it was shut off, and silence once again returned to the courtyard. I finished my reading, and went off to lift weights. A while later, I went for a run.

One interesting thing about the meaning of words is that they have different meanings for different people. Your idea of 'dry' is obviously not the same as an Italian's. Or maybe it's your idea of the function of a dryer. Either way, after washing and 'drying' my clothes, I still had most of them scattered about the dorm room, in an attempt to finish what the dryer started, for a good portion of the afternoon. Fortunately, I went for my run around 5:30, and by the time I came back, at least one shirt was dry enough for me to wear.

Around 9:00, I met up with Nicole and Anna, and they introduced me to Paul, one of the undergrad instructors for Xavier University, which is also offering a class here. The four of us trekked to Elliot's, a pseudo-English pub, where we enjoyed the pleasures of Bass Ale, and good American-like steaks. After the usual three-hour dinner, we came back around midnight, and I went to bed.

Not every day is an adventure, but even the mundane ones have their hidden moments.