Reasons why I was 22 hours late in returning to DC

1. Weather (this is the get-out-of-jail-free excuse for airlines, as they legally don't have to give you squat should you miss a flight because of it and have to sleep on the airport's floor)

2. Crew availability (for a flight that was leaving FIRST THING IN THE MORNING. Granted, I'm no model of efficiency, but they really shouldn't start off the day all fucked up like that)

3. Our plane hadn't left its departure city for some vague reason

4. Lightning on the runway precluded us from being able to use the gate (although it was sunny out - unclear where the lightning was happening. It's possible that there was lightning somewhere, at some point in the globe, so I guess this wasn't entirely inaccurate)

5. The tires of our plane were "not quite right", so they had to unload us all off the plane so that they could jack the aircraft up and change the tires. This is my personal favorite.

Despite the many, and I mean many, hours I spent sitting around airports over the past two days, my luggage still didn't manage to arrive in DC with me. Right now, I've gotten a vague declaration from the airline that my suitcase will be delivered to my work "late this afternoon". All I can say is, those chocolates I bought in Perugia damn well not have been left out on some airport's tarmac to melt.

*******

But other than that, Italy was molto fabulouso. I ate my weight in cheese, truffles (the mushroom kind), and fresh pasta. Plus the area we were in has a very specialized grape - the Sagrantino - so there was wine-tasting a-plenty.

We alternated between trundling around various Umbrian hill-towns, which have tons of gorgeous vistas but are sadly lacking in internet cafes, and lying about our villa. The few times we went to big cities - Florence and Rome - we eschewed all museums and spent our time eating, drinking, and shopping. Italy, despite its reputation (and a deserved one, I think) of being high-fashion, was chock full of what RollerDiscoMonkey dubbed "ho-baggity" clothes. I also saw far too many examples of what quite possibly are the two scariest words in the English language: "fashion mullets." Yikes.

Still, I had a wonderful time. Even though I am now officially a "signora," not a "signorina." Damn, and here I've been fooling myself that I look years younger than my actual age. Sigh.