HOLY SHIT

Been meaning to write for days, but honestly it is not until this very moment that I have had any time. And even now I should be reading an enormous pile of scripts that has accumulated on my desk this week. BACK TO BACK TO BACK TO BACK TO BACK visitors. Haven’t eaten at home in almost two weeks.

Exhausting. LOTS of fun, but bloody exhausting.

So first it was Zoë. (Well, technically it was Leisa first- who was here for what amounted to almost 3 weeks on and off)… Then it was Zoë. Had a really wonderful couple of days while she was here. Sincerely. It was so so great. Zoë has been to Rome twice before, so the obvious pressure to take her to all the major sights was totally alleviated- leaving us to do as we pleased. What’s more- Zoë was very encouraging in terms of doing things I still hadn’t done. So, for example even though I’ve been here almost a year I still hadn’t climbed up to the top of the dome in St Peters (500 steps up… and very strange and claustrophobic and hilarious)… nor had I been blessed by the new pope, or gone to this really swanky fancy restaurant I had heard about… all of which we did. It was so fun. Zoë is so low maintenance and she was a pleasure to have in town… so it was awesome. And as always a wonderful wonderful to spend a few days with an old old friend that knows me so well, it really is nice to have friends for a long time. To check out pic’s of Zoë and I go here
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Zoë left Thursday the same day David Franco arrived in Rome (AKA Amy French’s boyfriend) and the same day 8 of my relatives on my dads side arrived. The fame got in late so I was able to have an evening with Mr. Franco.

We had a wonderful long long long very Italian style dinner. We even moved inside when it got cold. I think we were at the restaurant for almost 4 hours. It was lovely. Unfortunately I didn’t get to see him again because the next morning bright and early I went and met the Carter clan.

My father’s oldest brother Jimmy, his wife Beverly their two kids Scott and Shannon. Scotts wife Michelle, Beverly’s sister and brother in law Judy and Al, and Bev and Judy’s dad- the amazing 90 year old “Pop” who kept up with us all the way.

They were a big group. I can’t imagine ever traveling with 8 people.. and after this weekend I know now there’s no way I could. That being said, we had a really really nice time.

We went out and ate fancy dinners and drank delicious wine, we told funny stories and laughed a lot… having my uncle here reminded me so much of my dad- it made me miss dad so much (ahhhhhh). I hooked them up with a private tour of ancient Rome, and on Sat we went to the Vatican on another private tour, that I went on too- it had been a year since I had been in there, and it really is fucking amazing.

They all left this morning- and even though it was so nice to see them, I was relieved to see them off- if only so I can have my fucking life back. I’ve been so neglectful. Today I did laundry and read, and slept past 7am… you know? It was nice.

Anyway.

I have to admit- I’ve been having some very serious reservations about going home. Well, more about leaving than going, truthfully.

It’s really hard for me. And I’m pretty sure it’s only going to get harder.

I don’t want to leave. I mean all my friends are REAL now… you know? And something changed in me about a month ago. I woke up one morning and realized- I can fucking speak Italian. I mean not fluently or anything- but fuck man- I learned it, and I can fucking do it. It’s one of the most amazing things I ever done EVER. And I can’t believe that now that I am finally getting good I’m leaving. It’s so stupid.

But I mean, it’s official, I’m going back and I’m leaving this place. AND IT SUCKS. All my friends know, my job knows. It’s happening a month and a half. Or 44 days to be exact.

I actually get really sad and weird and kinda choked up when I think about it. Because, I’m not done here- I’m not. I’ve just gone broke and I have to go stoke the proverbial financial fires as it were.

At any rate. I’ve constructed a list of things to do before I leave. It’s surprisingly not that long. Mostly I just want to enjoy the city, enjoy my friends. Get really really balls out rowdy on my 30th birthday, cook an enormous Thanksgiving dinner for my British friends who have never had it before, and you know… eat pasta, read more scripts, drive Luigi around and just try to be present and not miss a second of this.

It’s all starting to close in on me. I know in my heart it will all be ok… but sometimes I feeling like I have to do a lot of convincing of myself. It’s intense. But that’s life isn’t it. If it wasn’t intense for me it would mean I wasn’t paying attention. And I refuse to live like that.

A vafanculo. Niente non e importa…. Sono un po stanco, ma in fate tutti va bene.