Last night was not the way I'd envisioned my first evening in Florence would be spent. I am serious y'all, I threw up every hour on the hour until 4a; I feel totally wiped out right now, have not yet managed to get out of bed (it's noon), and as such, had to miss the Secret Passages tour we'd scheduled. It would have been really cool but I'm glad that Tom and the boys still went and that my dad took my place. Can you believe I've eaten nothing in Florence yet except the frutti di bosco yogurt I'm slowly, carefully consuming now? This feels rather tragic, but as one friend noted, it seems clear that all Venetian excesses have been voided. Dio mio. I hope whatever's going on soon says arrivederci because right now, the thought or view of most everything is totally vile.