You Know You Live in Rome when…

you tell your relatives “I live in Rome, next to the Vatican” but you tell your friends “I live in Prati, just down from Piazzale Claudio-around the corner from Giacomelli’s.

you don't consider vespas driving on the sidewalk or seventy year old men checking out twenty year old girls unusual occurrences.

it takes you 55 minutes to ride 8 miles by bus from centro to EUR on a work day and you tell yourself “Che culo!”.

there are at least fifteen ways to get everywhere and you know which mode of public transportation to take based upon: the weather, time of day, current political climate or terrorism drill closures, (and whether you are coming or going).

filling out forms at the post office no longer scares the hell outta you.

you know that traffic lights are only opinions and that it is best to walk quickly in cross walks, even if you are elderly, despite the fact that they seem to indicate that you have the right of way.

"I couldn’t get to work because there was a sciopero " is a common and real excuse for being late."

finding a parking space" actually becomes an appointment on your daily calendar. (E.g.. 7:00-8:00 PM Gym, 8:30-9:00 PM - find a parking space, 9:00-10:30 PM - Dinner reservations with Paolo and Lorenzo.)

you don’t have a Walmart, Kmart or Target and don’t miss them.

you know exactly how much time it takes till your number comes up for your turn at the Post Office sportello and leave to do your shopping until immediately ten seconds before (cleverly pulling an extra two tickets for the nice old ladies seated next to you).

when you say “lets eat early” and you mean "lets have dinner at 8:00 PM".

you elbow tourists out of the way on the Metro escalators to "gently" remind them to WALK LEFT, STAND RIGHT.

going to work early means being there by 9:00AM.

you don't bat an eye at 500 UN workers and businessmen in suits running like their lives depended on it to catch an overpacked Metro car that will be followed by an almost empty one in 120 seconds.

You call it EE-KAY-AH and not EYE-KEY-AH, and are well aware that the two in Roma are just a "tad different".

when Fiumicino and Ciampino Airports are and always will be "Fiumicino" and “Ciampino, not "Leonardo da Vinci di Fiumicino” and”Battista Pastine di Ciampino”.

you never refer to the 'Metropolitana' as the 'subway'.

you can tell by the size of people's cars (or motorinos) where they live and maybe even what neighborhood.

you've claimed that there's nothing to do this weekend even when you have the entire country’s capitol to explore.

you have the Metro map and all bus routes completely memorized, yet act like you aren't from around here when someone asks you “which way to Trevi Fountain?”

you meet someone else who says they're from Rome and you realize they live an hour and a half away from you.

you notice that there's been construction on the same section of the Lepanto metro station for the past 2 years and yet you've never see anyone working on it.

you know exactly when you're approaching the city on a Sunday evening, without ever seeing a sign, only because your speedometer goes from 100km to 0.

you know that China is no longer in the South Pacific, but has now been relocated near Termini.

the few times you have gotten lost in Roma you have somehow ALWAYS ended up in Sette Bagni and every road out somehow leads back to Sette Bagni.

you realize that the Via Aurelia is Roma’s very own version of NASCAR.

you have learned that there is no such thing as North, South, East, or West on the GRA, just “towards this” or “towards that”.

you go anywhere along Tuscany’s Argentario for the weekend and everyone you meet is from Roma-bene.

you understand that all this rain temporarily means no more dog c”*p on the street.

ice on the roads just means that you pay more attention to other cars, but still go 75 mph on the highways.

you know at least 2 politicians.

it is more common to see cars the size of erasers than ones the size of Sherman tanks.

you know how to pronounce Julius Caesar’s name and know it doesn’t begin with a “J”.

you consider Northern Lazio to be in no way similar to southern Lazio.

you know which bridges to cross over the Tiber depending on if you are coming into, or exiting centro.

you can successfully harmonize with the alert for the name of the next metro stop on the B Line.

you have been known to steal figs and persimmon from city trees, but know to avoid the pretty oranges.