Rome or Bust

I want to go to Rome. There are a group of students from my university going and I might be able to get a scholarship as a graduate student to go there a study, since I am getting my comparative lit degree on the cultural tract and am doing the classics, which explains why I need to know about Rome. Mr. Zelda says he would have to go and I say we can’t afford the 5000 dollars and the time you would be out off of work, he says that I need him and I say what and he says to help you and I say you are a fucktard. Was I wrong? I think not. I am 50 years old say it again 50 years old and the last time I went on a very long trip, I went with two very small children and had no man around and made it just fine. Now, he thinks, all of a sudden, that I can’t go alone on a tour with university staff to a country that welcomes students, it is preplanned he is a fucktard, I was not wrong. Sometimes a woman has to remember that she can and must go alone. I cannot understand the mentality of this husband of mine. Are there genes that are programmed into every man’s psyche that makes them think they are to supervise the little women?
If I save from now until summer, and make sure that I work as hard as I can, I can have the money should the scholarship fall by the way side. I am going to Rome, by Hercules and I will see paintings and architecture and visit old runes and bath houses where Nero had sex with little slave boys and go to the alps and see what all the fuss is about.