Here I am. The last full day in Rome and half way through my trip. My time here has flown by, just as life does. And every moment has been precious. It feels like yesterday that I was smiling at a cranky taxi driver, getting off an ancient elevator and walking into my "home away from home." 30 days and endless memories. 30 days and endless lessons learned. I wouldn't change a single minute.

I wasn't just visiting Rome, I was actually living here, and that was my goal all along. But that's the thing about goals, people usually set them and do everything to achieve them, but they don't enjoy the process before the end result. I'm so grateful I didn't just wish that I would live here someday. I actually made it happen for myself and the process was priceless.

So how do I sum it all up? Well, here's my best attempt.

• I observed tourists all over Rome, snapping away on cameras, big and small, iPhones and iPads (embarrassingly) and not really stopping to enjoy their surroundings. I kept wanting to ask them if they were really looking at what they were taking pictures of, whether they were really experiencing what was happening around them, or whether they just wanted to look back on those pictures later knowing that once upon a time, they had been standing at that exact spot. I learned that being mindful doesn't come naturally to us humans. It definitely hasn't come naturally to me. It's an everyday practice that needs to be learned and consciously cultivated. Being here made me realize how important being mindful really is and that I'd like to put in that conscious effort to live in the moment  every single day. It doesn't matter if I'm traveling to a new place, in the same car driving to the same grocery store, or walking my dog as the sun is setting. Every moment counts. Every moment is great, because you're alive and you've living it. You can't forget to enjoy it.
  
  

• A few weeks ago, when I was at the Modern Museum inside Villa Borghese, I noticed a couple going from painting to painting, sculpture to sculpture a few steps ahead of me. The man would stop and instead of taking pictures of the art, like everyone else, he was taking pictures of his wife. To him, she was the masterpiece. He was capturing her from every angle, her expressions as she took in the art around her. I was just watching them, admiring them. They were different from the other tourists I had encountered. It was like they were enjoying the experience of being in that museum and trying to capture it and those were the memories they wanted to take with them. I realized how much I look forward to the day when someone looks at me like I'm a real masterpiece. And just because it hasn't happened yet doesn't mean it won't. The best has yet to come.
  
  
• Love comes to us in all forms. If you're lucky like I am, you have people in your life, near and far, who want you to succeed, to find happiness and to be that better version of yourself you're trying to get in touch with, all while loving every single version of you you've ever been. I may have been alone in Rome, but I've never been alone in this journey. My family and friends are at the center of the many blessings I have in my life. They have taken the time to talk to me, email me, text me, and follow along by reading this blog and looking at pictures I post online. They give me so much to look forward to for when I'm home, for future trips I'm going to take and celebrations I'm going to attend. I want to make them feel as loved and cared for as they make me feel on a daily basis.
  
  

• Many times during this month I found myself at the metro station trying to get home or on my way somewhere during rush hour. Let me tell you, the people of Rome don't care who they have to shove just to get on a train. No one seems to understand or respect the concept of "personal space" and I witnessed a few arguments and minor fights as people struggled to get on and off the train. If you're claustrophobic, I suggest you stay away from the metro in Rome, especially during certain hours. Of course in my head I was comparing it to my experiences with the subway in New York or the L in Chicago. Yes, they too get busy and awkward, but never did I witness people pushing and shoving to this extent. Usually people only step inside the train if they see room or they roll their eyes and mumble a cuss word or two under their breath and wait for the next train. I definitely prefer it that way. But you learn to adapt. After experiencing the unpleasantries and minor anxiety of the metro, I adapted. I would try to go to the very first car, which is usually less crowded, wait for the next train or even walk all or part of the way home. Although the unpleasantries of life can't always be avoided, picking up on possible solutions or adapting to your environment is the key to making the experience a bit more painless. Accept what is and that it will eventually be over and behind you.
  
  

• When you're paying attention, it's usually the little things you remember. Like the fact that no one is Rome seems to have a clothes dryer in their home, just a washer. I think this might be the case for all of Europe because the apartment I rented in Paris last year had no dryer either. Everyone hangs their clothes outside to dry, like people did for generations. As I hung my laundry out every week, I was reminded of all the little luxuries we have that we take for granted. No one really needs a clothes dryer, but in the states most of us are lucky enough to have them. It's a convenience but not a necessity. I also noticed that although I packed lightly for this trip, I didn't really need about half the stuff I brought. Having a washer obviously helped, but I realized how little I actually needed on this trip and how easy it was to live with minimal material things. (Plus, when you're alone and can avoid judging yourself, it's ok to wear the same outfit twice in one week. Because, guess what? The universe will go on, even if you wore the same shirt on Tuesday and Friday.) Just be happy you have clean clothes on your back.
  
  

• I realized that at first I was reluctant to sit at a restaurant or cafe to eat alone. But as the days went by, it became easier and easier until it was basically second-nature. There's nothing wrong with being alone, eating alone, traveling alone. It may be challenging for some (more than others) but I promise you'll learn a lot about yourself. The experience is enlightening if you're willing to give it a try. As with most challenges in life, if you just give it a shot, you might be pleasantly surprised at the outcome. Or you might say to yourself, as I am now, I'm comfortable being alone. I often enjoy it. But I also enjoy being with the people I love and I enjoy meeting new people. It's balancing all that that makes life so magnificent.
  
  

• I already knew that Italy has amazing food, but I truly got to experience it. I want to start a petition that will declare gelato the fourth official meal of the day. I learned that eating an entire pizza by yourself is not only possible but completely acceptable. That no one needs a venti sized coffee, because a tiny, single shot of really good espresso gets the job done beautifully. That you don't have to deprive yourself of all the little indulgences that make your taste buds sing just because they might not be great for your waistline. Splurge once in a while. That little happy dance you do on the inside is absolutely worth it.
  
  

• I realized that all the major cities that I happen to love more than anything have a river running through them (NYC, Chicago, Paris, Rome, etc). I have been so lucky to have lived in New York and Chicago. I'm excited to add San Francisco to my list (even though there's no river) and maybe someday, I'll live in Paris too. The world is a beautiful place with endless possibilities, as long as you let yourself see it that way.
  
  

• And the greatest lesson of all? This is my life. Whether I'm being pushed around on a crowded subway, eating a giant pizza alone, crying while I watch a sad movie, reading an inspiring book, walking my dog, hugging my mom, or sitting alone, writing for myself, the people I love and strangers alike; these are the moments to be grateful for. And I promise myself, to never ever take any of it for granted.
  

It's clear to me that regardless of the lesson, it all comes back to showing gratitude. My main goal in life is to live. To embrace it and enjoy it, even when bad things happen. To set goals and challenge myself every day, even when I'd rather avoid it. To make the special people in my life aware of just how much they mean to me, even when they irritate or annoy me.  But more than anything, to enjoy the process that makes up this beautifully chaotic thing we call life. BE GRATEFUL.

The answer to the question, "Why are you taking this trip?" isn't a short one. But I've gotten it frequently enough over the last few months and especially these last 3 weeks, to want to address it on this blog.

As soon as anyone hears about my trip, they ask if my goal is to "find myself." It's a fair question. People have been known to use travel as a means of escape when they're confused, hurt, miserable and lost. But what a lot of people don't realize is that just because you get on a plane and go somewhere far away doesn't mean you'll come back feeling any better about yourself or knowing exactly who are you.

I don't take offense to the assumption that my primary purpose these two months is to find myself. But it's just that, an assumption. The thing is, I'm not lost. I didn't feel lost when I decided to take this trip, and I didn't feel lost right before I got on the plane. This isn't about finding something I don't have. It's about getting in touch with everything I do have.

Let me explain.

I'm an only child. I spent most of my childhood surrounded by more adults than children. The closest bonds I established as a kid were with adults. People always told me I was mature for my age. (Thanks, people!) But the thing is, I didn't really have a choice. I didn't know any other way to be. I was brought up to be strong. I was taught to be confident and to truly value myself. There have been times when I have forgotten the importance of having that value and respect for myself, but it's always temporary. I always end up remembering. But I think there is always room for improvement. There is always a need to see what you don't like about yourself and work towards changing it. No one should ever stop trying to better themselves. Life is a journey and the day you stop learning and growing and bettering yourself is the day you should just roll over and call it quits.

People always say that your 20s are for confusion and making mistakes so you can find yourself in your 30s. I don't think that applies to everyone. I think I found myself in my 20s. I can't tell you what year it was or in what moment I was confident I knew who Tina was, but I just knew. Maybe I knew long before that. Maybe I just didn't realize I had known all along, until I was in my 30s.

These last several years, I've taken risks and I've welcomed change. I opened myself up and took leaps. Sometimes those leaps lead me to a new chapter, sometimes I crashed and burned. But I did these things because I knew I could handle them and because I knew I would be better because of them. I'm now 34 and I've taken two months away for myself in order to refine the person I already am. They say, "Sometimes you win. Sometimes you learn." It couldn't be more true. I never want to stop learning about myself.

I'm traveling to become a better person. I'm putting myself in these situations so that I practice being 100 percent present in each moment, in my skin, in my head, to think and connect with my true self, all while outside of my bubble and my comfort zone. I believe this will ultimately help me be present in each moment when I return to that comfort zone. The point is, I'm challenging myself and it's bringing me closer to ME.

I'm trying to think before I speak, to take a breath before I react. To keep my demeanor calm and collected, even in the most frustrating of situations. To keep my voice low, even when my initial instinct is to scream. To slow down and not try to rush through each day. To keep my cool even when I'm dealing with others who aren't. To be positive and encourage positivity in others. To not let fear get the best of me in any situation. To be kind. To make an effort to listen not just talk. To realize that I can't control every situation and understand that what I can control are my actions and reactions. To live each day with humility and grace. To not only tell the people I love that I love them but to show them every day. These are all parts of myself that I haven't paid enough conscious attention to. These are all things I NEEDED to pay attention to. That's what this trip is about.

Regardless of all I've endured these last several years, I haven't lost myself. If anything, every year, I found out more about who I am through my experiences, my choices (whether they end up as triumphs or mistakes), and my reactions to the consequences of those choices. After coming off a tough year, I needed this reconnection. I needed to be my own mirror. The point is, the strong, self-respecting person inside me never went anywhere, she was just buried under a pile of negativity that she let accumulate the last few years. On this trip, I'm digging myself out.

The goal is to spend this time alone reconnecting with myself so successfully, that when I return home to my "normal" daily life, that connection will be so strong that I'll be able to continue refining myself on a daily basis, effortlessly and whole-heartedly.

So to answer the question, no. I'm not looking to find myself on this journey. I'm looking to better myself. And I think I'm well on my way.

I had seen the pictures too. I had heard the stories as well. But nothing could really prepare me for the beauty that surrounded me and the amazement and gratitude I felt that I finally got to see the Amalfi Coast. When we arrived, I stood there in silence and just took it all in. I was speechless. I was dumbfounded. I was in absolute heaven. This is life. Moments like these. This earth is full of amazing places and I was lucky enough to be standing in one of them.

We drove a good part of the narrow coastline road that runs along the southern side of the Sorrentine Peninsula. Green cliffs, colorful villas, sparkling blue/green water and lemon trees make up the gorgeous views. Our first stop was in the town of Amalfi, a popular destination for tourists visiting Italy. There were tour buses everywhere, but not even that could take away from what was all around me. We followed that up with lunch in Positano, one of the coast's most luxurious and beautiful small towns. Spring is the perfect time to go, because the sun shines, the temperature is just about perfect and the flowers are in full bloom. Summers are hot and very busy, and the coast shuts down during the winter months.

This is hands down, the most beautiful place I've ever visited. If you've never been, I hope these pictures inspire you to make your way to the Amalfi Coast. It's truly breathtaking. I will definitely be going back someday!

Food is a huge part of the Italian culture. Food is love. Food is family. Food is the beginning, middle and end of a conversation. Most of the shops and restaurants that have been around for decades here in Rome are owned and operated by families. The ownership, work and recipes are passed down from generation to generation and it makes the entire dining experience here heartwarming and special.

When I was doing research for this trip, I knew I wanted to experience Rome's food scene and I knew that tours could be a good way to do that. I came across a company called Eating Italy, which specializes in walking food tours around certain neighborhoods in Rome. You pick a neighborhood and a date, sign up and pay online, and show up at the meeting point on the day of your tour to experience the best that area has to offer. For four glorious hours you're guided through that neighborhood by a local English-speaking expert and given different kinds of food to try. I signed up for two of these tours. The first of which was a tour of Testaccio, the second, a tour of Trastevere.

Testaccio is often referred to as the "real" Rome, meaning the streets and the people are as authentic as it gets. Rome's foodie scene began in this area, as much of the Tiber River trade took place near here. Back in the day, food such as honey, sugar, wine and olive oil was transported in terra cotta pots called amphorae. In the center of Testaccio, there is a man-made hill called Monte Testaccio, which is stacked high with pieces of broken amphorae.

We learned quickly that Testaccio is the perfect place to go experience Roman cuisine at it's finest. Not to mention, it was a nice change to be away from the crowds that surround Rome's most popular attractions. We were the only tourists around!

So what did we eat? Well, what DIDN'T we eat?!

We started with an Italian breakfast staple, the cornetti, which is basically a croissant, which I'm already totally obsessed with. Cornetti come plain or might be stuffed with jam or custard. And we followed that up with Tiramisu in a mini chocolate cup. Tiramisu translates into "pick me up" in Italian, because traditionally, the dessert contains lady fingers soaked in espresso. Both delicious!

We followed that up with a slice of Roman style margherita pizza, my mom's favorite and pretty much the only thing she ate the whole time we were in Italy years ago. My mom can thank Queen Margherita for the invention of this simple delight. Just homemade tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese. The addition of basil, which most of us are used to seeing on margherita pizza in the states, is actually not an authentic Italian addition and most places here will give you just the plain cheese pizza with no basil or sometimes a piece of basil as a garnish. The Roman-style pizza crust is fairly thick (almost the same thickness of foccacia bread) so even one piece can be a hearty lunch.

Then we headed to a salumeria to try prosciutto di San Daniele (I'm also totally obsessed with any kind of prosciutto), pecorino al tartufo (sheep's milk cheese with truffles) and parmigiano reggiano cheese. I generally don't like to eat anything associated with sheep. I don't like lamb and I haven't liked any sheep's milk cheese I've tried at home. But of course I wasn't going to pass up a chance to try the Italian kind. And I'm glad I did. I noticed right off the bat that the sheep's milk cheese in Italy is quite mild and less gamey than I had tasted before. It was quite delicious. 

Eating Italy's food tours, although filled with tons of great food, are also good for people who like to learn about the history of the city. In Testaccio, we stopped at the famous Protestant Cemetery, home to the grave of the poet John Keats. It's a gorgeous cemetery. As a kid I had this irrational fear of cemeteries and up until a few years ago, I wouldn't go anywhere near them. But things change. Now I don't think of them as creepy or scary. They can be beautiful places to visit. I'll likely go back here and spend some more time inside.

We followed that up with a visit to the large Testaccio outdoor food market. This market is different from the farmer's market's most of us are used to. It's not just huge but really organized. Every vendor has a large stand and after decades of being in the business they all know each other. It's not just a place where locals go to get their food, it's like a nice meeting place to catch up with old friends. At the market, we tried bruschetta (which I continue to pronounce correctly; confirmed by an actual Italian) and caprese salad made with buffalo mozzarella cheese. This was one of my favorite parts of the day. (So much so that I forgot to take pictures of it all.)

We also tried the famous Sicilian cannoli. (I get it now, Godfather, I'd "leave the gun, take the canolli," too.) The canolli we tried was made with sweetened sheep's milk ricotta cheese, chocolate chips and pistachio. And again, to my surprise, it was AWESOME.

Now you think at this point we'd be full but it was time for lunch. We walked to one of Testaccio's famous restaurants and tried three different kinds of pasta, including my personal favorite, pasta carbonara. Now this is where I learned that all the ridiculously good carbonaras I had tried at home were in fact, impostors. Real carbonara is made with egg yolks and no cream. Therefore it has a bright yellow color and is actually not as bad for me as I once thought. Carbonara is a Roman staple and is made with guanchale (cured pork cheek) instead of panchetta.

As if we still needed more food, we followed that up with a fried ball of goodness known as a suppli. This particular one was made of risotto with meat and cheese. I was so full at this point but I still ate it up faster than you can say suppli.

And finally, no meal is complete without dessert so we had to get some gelato. Before we got to eat, we got a lesson on what to look for if you want authentic gelato. For the record, it's mostly common sense. (Pistachio shouldn't be bright green, banana shouldn't be bright yellow, etc.) But I did learn that you can ask for free whipped cream to top it off and the smartest thing is to get a combination of flavors like chocolate and hazelnut or my choice today, almond and pistachio.

After these few hours I needed a major nap. I'm talking serious carb-induced coma here. But I was so happy that I chose to do this tour and I was delighted to make some friends along the way. Shout out to Peggy and Barb from Toronto and thanks to our guide, Domenico and Eating Italy for a great tour!

Trastevere is just across the river from central Rome's famous ruins and yet when you're walking around you feel a very down-to-earth neighborly appeal. By night, this is the place locals go out to bars and clubs. But by day, it's peaceful, quiet and laden with the images of those romantic narrow cobblestoned streets we're all used to seeing in movies. It's also a center for great food.

My second Eating Italy tour was here in Trastevere and it was spectacular. I got to the meeting sight early so I could drink a breakfast cappuccino. And it tasted just as magical as it looks. The food tour began with a small creme puff-like pastry. And I could have eaten 15 of them. Then another suppli, this time, the standard Roman style of risotto cooked with a tomato and meat sauce, rolled into a ball with a piece of mozzarella, breaded and fried.

The next stop was one of two highlights of the day for me. We got to try porchetta, an amazingly delicious boneless pork roast. The pig is deboned and stuffed with salt, pepper and rosemary and slow roasted, traditionally over wood. The porchetta we tried was as authentic as it comes because it was imported from Ariccia in central Italy, where this type of roast originated. The crispy pork skin has a rich taste and intense crunch and when you take a bite of that along with the juicy salty meat, you just want to do a happy dance. I wanted to take that giant roast home with me!!

Now it was time to hit up the small Trastevere market for some fresh fruit, jam and cheese. I love jam and I haven't really had it with cheese before. But I'm all about trying new things and the combination of savory and sweet was delicious. And you can't go wrong with blood oranges from Sicily!

We followed that up with more margherita pizza and then some delicious gelato before sitting down for a pasta and wine lunch. We devoured our ravioli, fettucine with mushrooms and Rome's specialty carbonara as we sipped a white wine blend. The sun was shining and sitting outside to lunch was super relaxing.

After our carb overload, we went to an old family-owned cookie factory to try some of the delicious cookies they bake fresh multiple times a day. As expected, it smelled incredible in there!

Our final stop was extra special. We went to a place called Spirito di Vino, one of the top restaurants in all of Rome that's located in a building that's older than the Colosseum! We got to tour the ancient wine cellar and later sat down for some moscato dessert wine and a delicious cold Italian version of creme brulee. It was rich and incredibly delicious!

I had a great time, thank you to our guide Jasmin and Eating Italy for another great tour. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go jog around Rome four or five HUNDRED times...

I read this quote today and I wanted to share it because it embodies the exact mentality and way of life that I'd like to abide by. And the exact words I'm consciously trying to live by...

My apartment in Rome is located in The San Giovanni district, which is one of the most ancient area of the city. According to my city guide, San Giovanni is the definition of “authentic Rome.” The neighborhood is replete with Renaissance buildings and home to San Giovanni in Laterano, the first church in the city of Rome, which opened in 318 A.D. The church used to serve as the center of Catholicism and the home of the popes until the renovation of St. Peter's and the expansion of the Vatican. So as you can imagine, to Romans and Catholics everywhere, this church is a big deal, rich with history.

Even now, San Giovanni in Laterano serves as the home to the Bishop's Chair, known as the "cathedra." When a new Pope is elected, he's not officially the Pope until he sits in this chair within one month of his election. The current Pope, Francis, sat his holy rear-end there on April 7, 2013 and became Pope Francis. Before walking into the the church, I noticed the large bronze door depicting the Virgin Mary and the Baby Jesus. Mary's pinky finger and Jesus' foot are so worn from people touching them, that they glow in gold, a sign of those who believe touching the representations of these figures can bring them whatever it is they've been praying for. 

An interesting and slightly creepy fact about San Giovanni in Laterano is that above the main alter, there's a cage containing silver statues of St. Peter and St. Paul. Within those statues are pieces of each of their heads. (Yes, you read that correctly.) According to my guidebook, archaeologists gossiped that the Vatican tested DNA from St. Peter's head (located here) and his body (which is buried at St. Peter's at the Vatican) and they didn't match. So either this is not a piece of St. Peter's head, or that's not his body. Why hasn't there been an episode of CSI centered around this yet?! I guess, what matters is what people choose to believe and to Catholics who come here from around the globe, St. Peter (and his head) will always be a big deal since he was known as the first bishop of Rome and the first Pope by the Roman Catholic Church.

There were several confessional booths within the church, and each one had office hours and a list of languages spoken by the priest on duty who was taking confession. We all sin in different languages, I suppose. It's nice to know that between the hours of 2 p.m. and 5 p.m. the Polish speaking priest will hear your sins while the English speaking priest takes his break. All sarcasm and jokes aside, this was a beautiful church and even though I'm not Catholic, I always like spending time in churches. I especially like when mass is going on and you hear the hymns or the large organ playing. The echos leave me feeling like there truly is some kind of great presence looking down from the tall, golden ceilings. 

Regardless of my religious background, or lack thereof, I like the ritual of lighting a candle for the deceased and making an offering in the memory of those I've lost. However in San Giovanni in Laterano, there aren't candles but boards that contain small lights that flicker on when you make a donation. Not sure if they're worried about a fire hazard, but in my opinion, these lights just don't have the same mystical effect. The candle lighting will just have to wait...

A few days after visiting San Giovanni in Laterano, I went to St. Peter's Basilica. (I mean I visited St. Peter's head, I figured I should go pay my respects to his body as well.) The Vatican as a whole is a lot to take in but for now, I was just there to see St. Peter's. The Sistine Chapel and the Museum will be for another day. (Stay tuned.) My focus was the basilica because I was continuing to think about faith. Only here, all I saw was metal detectors, thousands of tourists doing their best impressions of the paparazzi and a giant gift shop. This was nowhere near the experience I had at other churches throughout the city. I understand that the Vatican and St. Peter's are a huge tourist attraction here in Rome, but all of those things really took the sanctity of faith and religion out of the experience. No offense to anyone, but I felt like I was there to see a show. Like I wasn't in a church but an auditorium of some kind. 

St. Peter's Square is a beautiful work of art in itself. There's an Egyptian obelisk in the center of the square, one of dozens throughout Rome, which is made of solid granite and weighs over 300 tons. 

On this particular day, there were thousands of chairs set up, probably for one of the Pope's upcoming addresses.

In order to enter the basilica, you have to wait in line and go through metal detectors. Not a normal church-going experience. Although I noticed that some people were setting off the metal detectors and no one was checking as to why. Maybe a bit counterintuitive, but who I am to judge. The line seemed long when I got in it but later I realized that it could have been a lot worse. After I walked in, with what seemed like thousands of other people, I couldn't deny the grandeur of St. Peter's. It's breathtaking. And very very big. The golden window at the far end is two football fields from the entrance! The church covers six acres and has a capacity of 60,000 worshippers. (And it seemed like there were close to that many people in there with me.)

Towards the end of high school and in my early college years, I had a love of art history. I considered studying it for a hot second and when asked what other professional I'd love to be doing I still say I'd be an art historian and restorer because I love art (and I love to clean). That can always become my fall back career, I suppose. Michelangelo's story was always a favorite of mine and so it's one of the main reasons I wanted to visit the Vatican again. His work is everywhere. Starting with Pietà his statue of Mary holding the body of Christ after his crucifixion. He was only 24 years old when he completed this remarkable piece.  Apparently in 1972, a crazy person came in with a hammer and began hacking away at the piece. The damage was repaired but since then the Pietà has been behind protective glass. I couldn't get too close because there were a ridiculous number of people taking series of pictures on their cameras, iphones, ipads, etc. It was like being in front of the Mona Lisa again. In my opinion, the Pietà is truly something special! (No offense, Leonardo Da Vinci.)

A new addition to St. Peter's is the Tomb of Pope John Paul II, who died in 2005. I remember I was in Switzerland for work when he passed away and it was the only thing on the news for days. His tomb was moved from the Chapel of San Sebastian in 2011 after he was considered blessed by Pope Benedict XVI and in 2013 he was elevated to the level of sainthood. Apparently the process of declaring someone a saint usually takes a long time but for Pope John Paul II, the process is moving very quickly. Last time I was here, this was just an alter with a painting of St. Sebastian but now it's this beloved Pope's tomb. 

The whole time I was here I got to thinking about experiences. I was looking around and really trying to take it all in, but I noticed that most of the people around me weren't doing the same thing. They were just going from monument to monument, sculpture to sculpture taking an endless number of pictures. I kept wanting to shake them and say, "Stop! Take a minute and really LOOK at what you're taking those pictures of! Take it in! Savor it! Live in this moment! What's the point of taking those pictures? So you can see something later that's in front of you now?!" Every picture I took inside, only the few you're seeing, I took after I spent a few minutes just staring.

As I scanned the faces and gestures of the (few) believers who were actually there for the afternoon mass, I started thinking about faith. People have debated the pros and cons of organized religion for centuries but what I chose to see here, is faith itself. In my opinion, there's no right or wrong answer as to whether practicing a specific religion is beneficial to people. I believe that having faith is beneficial. I honestly didn't feel a strong presence of faith around St. Peter's. And that's ironic for such a grand church with such a rich religious history. 

So what does faith mean to me? I think faith is hard work. It's a practice and a habit. Faith is placing trust in the knowledge that something much bigger than you plays a role in your destiny and admitting that neither you nor that entity is completely in control of all the things that occur in your life. I think when you have faith, you also have to act. The act of recognizing that you need to do something and then doing it. There's a God complex in all of us. And as they say, "God helps those who help themselves." To me, faith is a personal journey.

I believe in a higher being and I respect the choice that people make to go to church and pray and participate in any ritual that brings them enlightenment and peace. But to me, it might just be as simple as that. As Douglas Adams once wrote, "Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?" As I see it, the garden is beautiful and that's enough for me.

I don't often visit churches when I'm home, unless I'm attending a wedding or a funeral. I feel like with the exception of a rare few, churches, mosques and other religious buildings in the US aren't really considered tourist attractions. But being in Europe, I can't help but venture inside to admire the architecture, the stained glass, the paintings and frescos, and I choose to see the positives of all they represent. Faith. Belief. Unity. 

We are all addicted to our phones. I don't know a single person who isn't. Smartphones have taken over the world and one can undoubtedly argue that they're both amazing and horrible all at the same time. 

One phrase I've been hearing lately is "digital detox." One of my goals on this trip was to partake in this phenomenon. Throughout my daily life, and I mean all day every day, regardless of what I'm doing, I rarely go longer than an hour without picking up my phone, swiping right and texting, Tweeting, Facebooking, Instagraming, calling, surfing the web, or taking pictures. The more technology comes our way the more tasks we're able to do from the palms of our hands, all with a few swipes of a finger. That power is fantastic, yes. But it's also destroying our attention spans, our relationships with other human beings and most importantly, mindfulness of all the little details that make up the lives we're living. 

Before I left for my trip I was trying to rely on my iPhone less and less in order to ease myself into the transition I knew I was going to demand of myself while I was abroad. No one should try to quit anything cold turkey, because as with most addictions, the failure rate would just be too high. Yes, I said addiction, because like so many of you, I'm knowingly addicted to my smartphone. 

One of the many goals of this trip, was to get a break from that addiction and disconnect. You're probably thinking, well, she's obviously connected if she's blogging and posting regular updates. Yes, I'm connected online as I'm writing right now, but the difference is, that's the only time I'm connected; when it's evening time and I've come home after being out all day, doing whatever I've done. 

Since I've been in Italy, I only carry my iPhone around (off or on airplane mode) in case of an emergency. I can't call, text, browse or do anything else. I mean, with the international data and roaming plan I actually can do all of those things, but I'm consciously choosing not to. I just have it in case I need it and for no other reason. Remember that feeling? Think way back. At one point in our lives, we only had landlines at home. When cellphones became more common, they were only used to make and receive phone calls. That was the extent of it. I remember the first cellphone I ever got (after the ever so cool and completely useless/ridiculous pager era), it was my junior year in college, around 1999-2000. 14 years later, going even a few hours without my phone had become unfathomable. That's just not healthy. While I realize this makes me sound completely old, I'll openly admit that I often long for a simpler time when this device wasn't so much a part of my existence. Yes, I miss the good 'ole days. 

During this trip, I'm more than happy to give back the power that having a smartphone has given me all these years. I'm happy to disconnect and detox because I know that there's so much more I could be doing with myself here. And I know I need to make the absolute most of the time I have here. 

I wasn't sure what to expect. I thought the detox would be a shock to my system, but what I realize is that it has been a wonderful relief. I feel more present in my life. I've been relying only on myself and my own senses to see, hear, taste, smell and understand. I've been spending however many hours of the day EXPERIENCING everything and not until hours later when I'm back home resting, do I mentally rewind and start rehashing the experiences of the day in my writing. Do I think I could disconnect completely? I think I could. But that's not what I want to do. I want to be able to stay in touch with my family and friends and still know what's going on in the world. I've just been prioritizing my time with myself above anything else. 

How important has this been? Well, if I hadn't paid attention, if I had been looking down at my phone, I may not have noticed the beauty of this street vendor's flowers...

I wouldn't have seen how blue the sky was or how the afternoon light was hitting the grand Vittorio Emanuele II Monument...

Or how there's more than just Greek influence in Rome. I saw the Egyptian hieroglyphics on the obelisk in the Piazza del Popolo...

I noticed the beauty and the every day simplicity of Roman life...

I saw my neighbors as the sun was going down from my sixth floor balcony...

This has been a tremendous task and it's helping me feel more present in every moment I've had out here. The last thing I would want, after all the time, money and effort I've put into this trip, is to miss it because I was on the phone the entire time. I want to be an active participant in every minute of my life and especially those minutes I'm spending out in these beautiful places these two months. It's been one whole week already, and I'm amazed at how time flies by. I look back on so many memories and this personal narrative that I've developed during this time and I realize how valuable it is and how much of it I've been able to absorb because and only because I've made the effort and I've eliminated a major source of distraction.

I'm learning a lot about myself in the meantime. For example. I always thought I had a terrible sense of direction, and my reliance on GPS and Google Maps were mandatory every time I needed to get somewhere. But here, the only thing I've allowed myself to rely on are a guidebook and a street map of Rome. And guess what? Somehow I've managed to get everywhere I've wanted to go, and find some beautiful gems along the way, based solely on my own sense of direction and ability to find myself on the paper map I'm holding in my hands. I can't tell you the sense of accomplishment I feel, having now proven to myself that my sense of direction is actually fairly sharp.

Now as much as all this has been an awakening, I do realize that when I'm back home and I'm working and things go back to a normal routine, it won't be as easy or even as practical to disconnect this frequently and for so many hours at a time. But that doesn't mean I won't keep trying to do so. I realize how important it is to live through every bit of the stuff that happens to us on a daily basis. Good, bad, divine, atrocious, whatever. We need to experience it all and when we're constantly living through our devices, we're missing out on a lot of it. We're more concerned about seeing what other people are doing or showing others what we're doing, and it's taking away from our own ability to do and see for ourselves. 

I'm thankful for every minute of digital detox I've experienced this past week and the many more minutes I'll experience in the weeks to come. I feel like I exist. I feel more susceptible to my own life. Instead of reaching for my iPhone every day, I'm reaching for a complete connection with my own existence, my feelings and my thoughts. Regardless of whether you're able to take a vacation from every day life or not, I encourage all of you to try to detox a little bit each day. Any little bit of time you spend away from your phone and your computer, whether it's to think quietly alone or give undivided attention to the people you love, is time that will make you feel more connected than any device ever could.   

The Roman Forum or Foro Romano, was once the political, religious and commercial center of the city and the center of the civilized world. When you visit the site these days, you have to bring a healthy imagination in order to really picture the extent of the grandeur that once was. The city was born right here in the main square, although there are numerous conflicting mythical theories about how Rome was actually founded.

Walking around the Forum, it's easy to get lost amongst giant crowds of tourists from around the world. Even in May, which isn't quite the peak of tourist season yet, there are thousands who flock to these famous sights. So it's really a good practice in serenity and focus. As soon as I walked in, I started to tune everyone out. I stopped listening to international voices and only focused in on the thoughts that ran through my head as I was walking through what was once a thriving political, religious and commercial center. My guidebook was telling me to try to see it through "period eyes." The structures were once white with colorful monuments and buildings mixed in. I was starting to see it…

I used to be easily distracted, which often led to visible frustration and not being mindful of important moments. I used to get really annoyed if someone was speaking like they had a megaphone instead of vocal chords, but these days, I don't let it bother me. I know I don't have control over what others do, but I do have control over how I let it affect me. I really believe that as long as you make that conscious effort to focus, it's easy to clear the mechanism in your brain and remove everything you don't want from that moment. As I sat down on a set of stairs, I was seeing and hearing less and less of the people surrounding me and more and more of what was in front of me.

I was looking at the three columns left standing of the Temple of Castor and Pollux, one of the most photographed sights at the Forum and I was picturing the togo-clad senators meeting at the temple to discuss politics, the weather, and whatever gossip they had to share that day. 

The Temple of Vesta is one of Rome's most sacred spots, from what's left of it, you can still make out the circular shape and picture Rome's residents gathering there around the sacred flame that burned within. It was so sacred that it was tended to by carefully selected Vestal Virgins, who were chosen at the age of 10 and required to serve 30-year terms. 

According to legend, the virgins took a vow of chastity for 30 years and if they served that term faithfully, they were given a large sum of cash and allowed to marry. (Apparently, 40-year-old virgins were high in demand back then.) So what would happen if the virgins strayed and gave it up before their 30-year term was up? Well, it was bad. They were apparently strapped to a funeral carriage, paraded through town, then buried alive in a crypt. Therefore, if you were selected to be a Vestal Virgin, it was probably a good idea to keep your legs closed. What's 30 years of chastity compared to being buried alive?!

As I'm reading all these stories in my guidebook, I'm really picturing all of it well: the buildings, the senators, the virgins…  It's pretty strange to see what's left, knowing what it used to be and I couldn't help but wonder how much longer these ruins would remain. Will the pieces I see now continue to be around for thousands of years so that generations from now, my great, great, great something-or-other would be able to imagine what I'm imagining right now in 2014? 

Next, I made my way up to Palatine Hill, which is just to the left of the Forum but often ignored by tourists. Walking up the lush greenery of the Farnese Gardens and a fantastic view of the Forum below it, was peaceful to say the least. It required a lot less effort to focus up there. I was happy to have some time on a bench alone, just basking in the sunshine and the quiet and reading about what I was about to see on Palatine Hill. If you keep walking you can see the house of Augustus/Octavian, the first emperor of Rome and his wife, Livia's house just next door. For an emperor, Augustus lived rather modestly, tucked away from the busy Forum area. Of course when I noticed him and his wife had separate homes, I thought, oh my, wonder what that was about. (Drama!) At the top of the hill you get to see a phenomenal panoramic view of the city and as you can see, it was a gorgeous day! I stood up there for quite some time just taking all this in... 

Now, I was on a mission to find Maximus Decimus Meridius and his homies...

The first time I saw Gladiator, I immediately thought of my first trip to the Roman Colosseum. Even now, it stands proud, representing Rome at its most grand. Officially known as the "Flavian Amphitheater," it was the center of entertainment for ancient Rome. Thankfully, as a human race, we've evolved from the time when watching people kill each other was a form of entertainment. (Or have we?) 50,000 people could fit in the colosseum at one time, partaking in the most popular "spectator sport" of the time. 

According to my guidebook, the look of the colosseum says a lot about the Romans. They were great engineers, not artists, so the building is more functional than it is beautiful. (I concur.) The ever present Greek influence is evident in the columns and style of each level. At one point, copies of Greek statues stood tall throughout the building as well. After all these years, only about one-third of the building still stands. The functionality of the architecture is something to be admired. There were multiple ways spectators could enter and exit so the place could both fill up and empty rather quickly. And anyone who has ever been stuck getting into or out of a sports arena can understand how great that is!

If you use your imagination when glancing at the intricate passageways beneath the arena, you can picture the different ways the wild animals and warriors would pop up into the arena, just like in the movie. In all honestly, I did a quick spin around the inside and quickly made me way back out. I've been here twice before and of all the things I've seen and have yet to see in Rome, this is now the least interesting. Funny how things change. This was one of my favorite highlights of Rome the last time I was here. But I'm older now and I see so much more to Rome than what this colosseum represents. I'm extremely grateful for the fact that I live in a time when my entertainment is to go watch guys dunk a ball in a hoop or shoot a puck into a net as opposed to watching men murder each other in the name of entertainment. It just wasn't interesting anymore. 

To quote a line from Gladiator: "The beating heart of Rome is not the marble of the Senate, it's the sand of the Colosseum." Legend has it that as long as the colosseum stands, the city of Rome stands. So for that sake alone, I hope it stands forever… 

History was never one of my favorite subjects in school. I always preferred English. Anything to do with reading and writing was always more up my alley. Maybe I just liked to make things up or read things other people had made up and not deal with actual facts. Either way, the older I've gotten, the more interested I am in learning about the history of certain things. Since I'm living here this month I decided why not visit the National Museum of Rome and learn more about the history of this great city. 

Now I couldn't remember visiting this place the last two times I was here. I want to say it's because we didn't see it, but then again that could just be me not remembering it because I found it to be so boring the first (or second) time around. Honestly, it was still a bit boring today, but I'm glad I went. And as you will see, I definitely know how to amuse myself in any setting.  The museum gives an overview of the city's history, almost like you're walking back in time and the statues, frescoes and other works of art are giving you a tour of what it was like back then. 

One immediate takeaway: so many of the relics of Rome's history, either came from Greece or were copied from the Greeks, so there's an abundance of Greek influence everywhere. Rome's legions conquered what they believed to be the more-cultured Greek civilizations by adopting the Greek gods, art styles, fashions and even language. No offense to the Romans, but walking through the museum I kept thinking of them as an annoying sibling who copied everything the other (Greek) sibling would do. 

It was a little odd to see statues of Julius Cesar and then statues of Athena and Socrates. By the way, my guidebook, "Rick Steves' Rome 2014," describes Julius Cesar as, "a people's favorite. He gave great speeches. Chicks dug him." How could you not love that? For anyone interested in travel books, anything by Rick Steves is a good way to go because it's not only humorous but straight to the point. It gives you the basic info without bombarding you with facts that you won't be able to remember anyway. By reading the few pages on the National Museum, I was able to give myself a guided walking tour of each room and learn what I'm sharing with you in this post. 

One of the most popular sculptures in the museum is that of Athena bathing. Can't a girl get some privacy?! The first thing I noticed (other than the fact that like most other statues in the museum, she missing arms and part of her skull) is her curvaceous body. Yes, she has some love handles and fat rolls. So what?! This is what real women looked like, people! (Who wants another canolli?)

I can't leave out my personal favorite, the sculpture of a man who has a head, and no real body but then has genitals carved out of the pillar of marble where his body should be. Now, either someone was super lazy or didn't get around to finishing this piece or he just wanted us to know that this guy was indeed a dude and leave it at that. Ok, we get it. 

When reading the placards of many of the sculptures of heads and torsos, I noticed that the descriptions were often vague or unsure of exactly who the head may have belonged to. (A lot of, "Well, this COULD be Julius Caesar, but it could be his third cousin who was born 100 years later." Um, ok thanks.) That got old after a while. If you've seen one mystery marble head with curly hair, pupil-less eyes and a missing a nose, you've basically seen them all. 

Side note: While climbing the stairs to see the next floor, I was quite amused by the giant red "Roman Numerals" that marked each floor of the building. How fitting. Did those come from the Greeks too?

Here are some more museum highlights: 

Who wouldn't want a set of giant knockers?

Somewhere out there is a pissed off one-armed giant...

This guy looked like he needed a friend.

There's a section of old coins, some of which were giant and heavy. Imagine carrying those puppies around with you to the market when you had to go buy yourself a horse. I also saw some ancient Roman jewelry, which for a former jewelry buyer was nothing to write home about. 

Two-plus hours and all that history had made me hungry. Also, Athena made me realize that I have lots of room to devour some pasta without the risk of love handles. So it was off to Mamma Angela's Trattoria, a place I read about on Yelp. As we all know, in the US, people constantly use Yelp. That isn't really the case in Europe, although most reviews you do see are graciously written by Americans on holiday. Mamma Angela had gotten some great reviews so I decided to check it out. It did not disappoint!

I treated myself to a glass of local Rose, bruschetta (which I enunciated perfectly, thank you, Giada DeLaurentis) and fettucine fruitti di mare (mixed seafood). I wanted to try the tiramisu but I was stuffed, so I had to follow it up with an espresso to make sure I didn't fall into a pasta-induced coma. I didn't get to meet Mamma Angela, but she's top notch. If you're ever in Rome, go check out her ristorante. 

Those of you who know me, know my love affair with food, so there will definitely be more of these pictures to make you all jealous in the coming days. I just signed up for two different food tours through a highly recommended company called Eating Italy. They walk you through certain neighborhoods in Rome and you basically eat for 4 hours straight. Yes, please! Or I should say, "Si, per favore!"

One thing about me is that I love to learn new languages and I actually learn pretty quickly. Before I went to Paris last year, I studied some basics so that I could at least try to order a glass of wine in French. And locals always appreciate it when you try. So here I am in Rome, and I'm spouting out basic greetings and ordering food in Italian to the best of my ability and everyone is responding to me in English! And here I was thinking my Italian accent wasn't half bad. Apparently, it's bad enough that I have "I'm an American, please respond in English," written all over my forehead. But it's still just the first week, so I'll keep practicing and maybe I can fool someone at some point. 

Ciao amicis!

Never did I think I would quote "The Lord of the Rings," but here we are. First full day of wandering around Rome and I couldn't feel any less lost. Although I've been to this incredible city twice before, I'm a mere stranger to these streets and to the tourists and the locals alike. But I feel oddly at ease and at home already.

Being sick with a nasty cold, traveling the long distance, and now jetlag is definitely presenting sleep and lack of energy challenges. But right now, I'm up for anything. It's all part of the experience. I woke up at 3:30 a.m., which wasn't a total loss because I was up just in time to watch my Golden State Warriors play Game 6 against the Los Angeles Clippers in the NBA Playoffs via a live stream online. And believe me, when I watch my sports teams, I'm always wide awake!

After the Warriors got an exciting win, I went back to sleep for a few more hours, just as the sun was struggling to come up behind thick, grey clouds. I got up to a cool and rainy day in Rome. After a quick breakfast I went in search of the first of many cappuccinos that will undoubtedly ruin all prior and future cappuccinos I consume in my lifetime.

The keys to the apartment I've rented for the month look as old as the building and there's one of those primal elevators, the kind where you have to open a metal door and then a set of wooden doors within it. (FYI and note to self, the elevator won't move until you close those doors behind you after you step inside. I learned this during the minute or two I was inside waiting for absolutely nothing to happen.) The elevator is just big enough for one person to stand comfortably. If anyone was with me, I'd probably just constantly take the stairs to avoid the slow rise to the sixth floor within a confined space, breathing with another human. Although, I should probably take the stairs anyway… 

So without any real plan, I walked outside and then into the metro to buy a ticket and hopped on line A with no real direction in mind. As someone who usually loves to plan and always needs a direction, my current comfort with spontaneity is refreshing and slightly terrifying. All I knew was that other than the caffeine fix, I was in dire need of an umbrella. Luckily there are men walking around everywhere selling them, so after I got off the metro, an endless array of umbrella options came to me.

When I exited at the Barberini station, it was just a few minutes walk to the famous Trevi fountain. I figured, why not start there? In 1995 and 2001, I contributed coins to that fountain, wishing as all Roman tourist do, to come back to this marvelous, chaotic urban jungle. Rome's history spans thousands of years, and here I am among the 2.7 million residents and countless tourists, new umbrella and goofy smile in tow, looking up at one of the most famous Roman landmarks.

Now as if straight out of a movie, the slow, steady rain turned quickly into a full-blown downpour. I ran and ducked into an open courtyard door with a bunch of strangers because my new umbrella was suddenly useless. I stood there and looked around. Cobblestones, old brick walls, open window shades, concerned faces and a sea of colorful umbrellas shading drenched tourists and their expensive cameras. Pretty much everything was as I remember it. Except maybe all the people taking selfies, (myself included). Not many of us did that in 1995 or 2001, especially on 35mm film that we'd later have to take to the drug store to develop. 

Trevi Fountain is majestic, 86 feet high, and over 160 feet wide. Over 3,000 Euros worth of coins are thrown into it daily (with the right hand over the left shoulder, if you want to abide by tradition and do it properly). The city graciously gives that money to charity, but apparently delinquents regularly try to steal the coins, hence this sign, which clearly doesn't stop them. They got 20 whole cents out of me this time around!

After I took a respectable number of selfies (one), I couldn't deny my wet walking shoes and my lack of caffeination. I recalled the initial important task at hand: I still haven't found that perfect cappuccino. Surprisingly, I don't see any coffee shops in the Piazza de Trevi. So I went for the next best thing: coffee gelato! Cause that's basically the same, right? (Just humor me.) It appears that most of the authentic coffee shops don't give you take out cups anyway, you either sit down at a table or stand at the bar and drink your delicious poison. So until it's nice enough to sit outside and sip the magical concoction at my leisure while people watching, the gelato will have to do. Ahh, yes. Gelato in the rain, that has to be in at least one Federico Fellini movie, right? (Frank, stay tuned for my "adventures in dancing in fountains while (hopefully) not getting arrested and thrown into an Italian jail" story.)

Strolling around Rome, I started recognizing the other reasons why my 15-year-old and 21-year-old selves loved it so much, there are shoe stores on every corner! That's surely a love I'll never outgrow. Next thing I know, it's already late in the afternoon and between my internal clock's turmoil, my damp jeans and shoes and my stomach wanting more than just eggs and gelato, it was time to head home to the local market and pick up lunch/dinner. 

Successful first full day! Più a venire! (More to come!)

By the way, many of you asked to see pictures of my apartment, so here it is:

If you have the means, business class for international travel is worth every giant bag of pennies or every single one of the thousands of accumulated miles you've saved for a rainy day. I was lucky enough to be able to book business class for this entire trip and the amount gratitude I have for that is off the charts. Not only do you get decent food and a selection of movies, but you get off the airplane feeling slightly human, like your spine is basically still in tact and your lips are nice and hydrated from the extra chapstick you get in your toiletry pack. The ability to lay completely flat and get a decent amount of sleep while you're in the air for a whole day is absolutely priceless.

My British Airways flight left San Francisco in the afternoon on April 30 and flew directly to London Heathrow. I had to hustle through that giant airport so I wouldn't miss my connecting flight to Rome. What I didn't know at the time was that the one suitcase I brought with me for two whole months decided not to hustle with me. When I arrived in Rome, I  was bagless. 

Under most other circumstances, my former self would've felt agitated or angry. But I didn't. I was too happy that after a year of thinking about this trip and then planning this trip, I was finally ON this trip. I was too happy to be in Rome. I was too happy I got here in one piece. I was too happy I finally watched "About Time" as per my best friend's recommendation and weeped uncontrollably on the plane while also laughing at the fact that she had totally warned me that that would happen. (Thank you Co, my waterworks partner in crime.) So my bag wasn't here. Eh, it would get here eventually. 

I was informed that my bag was indeed on the next flight out from London and would arrive within the hour. Fabulous! Time for one of my favorite things ever: people watching. I saw a group of elderly couples from a tour all helping each other collect their bags. I saw parents holding the hands of sleepy children, slowly sucking on pacifiers and holding security blankets. I saw Italian women channeling their inner Donatella Versace with platinum blonde hair, leather pants and high heels. Next thing I knew, my bag had arrived. Boom.

Being that I was already late meeting my landlord to get my apartment keys, I decided to take a taxi instead of trying to figure out which bus/train to take into the San Giovanni neighborhood. As soon as I showed the cranky driver my address he started complaining about how much traffic he'd have to endure to get me there. I just smiled at him and nodded. All good buddy, just go. We'll survive. And that we did. Some Google map action, a couple of side streets and (voila!) that wasn't so bad, was it buddy? As soon as I gave him a 5 Euro tip, he was my best friend and gave me his card, in case I ever needed another ride somewhere. 

Now, the apartment. 

I spent months trying to find the perfect place on Airbnb and every bit of research was worth it. This place is superb. Major street, one block from the metro. Sixth floor, newly renovated apartment with all the windows facing a quiet courtyard. It's clean, it's comfortable and it's the perfect size, just small enough to be cozy and big enough to not feel claustrophobic. There's a giant supermarket across the street, a gelato shop next door and pizza by the slice around the corner. Jackpot! I couldn't be happier with my choice. 

I'm in Rome, people. I'M IN ROME. And this is home for the next month… 

Ever so grateful.