Act IV, Scene II: Kiss of the sunflower or: Sorry for the hatius (sic!)

And I gottta say: He's really got it nice in there. I mean maybe a little cluttered, but who am I to judge. There were paintings and sculptures all over the place and long corridors filled with people. Now before I go on, I wanna make one thing clear, a little disclaimer so to speak: Should anyone feel that in this post, or any other for that matter, I disrespect or ridicule the Pope or the Catholic church or any other religious leaders or institutions, let me assure you that I have deep respect for the various churches, their practices, beliefs and their leaders. Keep that in mind.
Alright, this has been going on for long enough now, so let me finish it real quick, and we can get back to the daily grind of blogging. We walked through the long hallways and the rooms and it was really interesting, and all leading up to the Sistine Chapel. Of course you all heard about it, and how amazing it's supposed to be, but I have seen plenty of famous buildings and art and I always found the reality of actually seeing these things always comes down to one thing: It's just little old me checking stuff out. That's how I feel about the 'big' events in life in general. A lot of it is overhyped. But that's not the issue. Why do you always gottta sidetrack? The Sistine Chapel was, at least to me, a notable exception. I just wasn't prepared for those paintings. Just breathtaking. All I can say is: It's worth saving your money to go and see it. This feeling of deep appreciation when seeing a famous sight doesn't usually happen with everything I look at. Matter of fact, the only other place that I was enjoying a lot more than I thought I would was Mt. Rushmore. At least that's the only place I remember, but my memory is not exactly high profile as most of you probably know already. Heck, if my memory was peanut butter, it would be generic, all-chunk without the lid and the sticker peeling off after letting it sit in the sun for too long. And the knife still sticking in it.
After enjoying Benedetto's hospitality we ate lunch, which was soso but cheap. And then came the big ordeal: St. Peter's Cathedral a.k.a. The World Headquarters of God or simply World Headquarters (if you have to ask which, it ain't The One). On the way to standing in line for the security check, we walk over this little marketplace with all kinds of different vendors. Afterwards, we see some of the Gucci-Dolce&Gabana-Armani handbag street team being chased by the police. Why?
So we pass the security check and approach this little tent. As we would soon find out, this was the fashion police, that makes sure you ain't dressed like no ho going in there. And apparently my calves were too much for the Pope to handle. I mean, I knew my calves are sexy, having caused an impressive number of traffic jams in their lifetime, but I was hoping to get the sin wiped away from them by taking them in there. One thing I know for sure: If the Pope ever wants to come to my place, I'm making him wear hotpants and a tank top. And I'm not joking. Yeah, how you like that, Mr. Ratzinger? So instead, Christina went in by herself, as I couldn't let my calves spoil her enjoyment. As it turned out, had my shorts covered about 10cm more of my calves, I would have been okay. I also saw these three guys put on pants over their shorts, and they looked like one-way clothes. As in you can only wear them once. Throwaway. But I never saw anywhere where you could buy them. so Christina goes inside, takes pictures, comes out, we start walking back and see this little shop hidden in a corner with special price paper pants. AWESOME! I get 'em, go through security again, put them on (they weren't very comfortable and could have been a little bigger), walk right by the fashion police, and check out the HQ myself. It was pretty amazing. We also went up into the dome and that was cool, too.
So a happy ending after all. Thank God.