A JOKE

did you hear about the guy who thought he was a moth?

He went to the doctor and says "doc, I think I'm a moth",

and the MD says, "that's not really my specialty, you should go see a shrink"

and the guy says, "I know, I was on my way, but I saw that your light was on"

DOES ANYONE ELSE

Find it funny that two words I can’t spell are business and career?

Without spell-check I would get those two wrong each and every time.

I think it’s perfect.

RECOVERING

Yea I was in the mood for rowdy… and I got it. Holy shit. Not once but twice.

Really fun. Highlights include dancing on tables, breaking a TV in a taxi, walking down via Cavour at 6am (have great pictures), a very very hairy Italian ass crack (also captured on digital film), some French girl named Elodine, and a hung over dog hair that turned into the whole damn dog.

Fucking happy days. Fun times. Indeed.

Would like to think it’s gonna calm down for me… but that’s a fucking joke. Leisa Inman is in town this week- it’s her birthday on Monday, then it’s Suzie’s birthday next weekend, then Zoë Foster is coming in for 4 days (HOORAY!!!! SO SO EXCITED), and two days after she leaves my entire family on my dad’s side (the Carters) arrive for the weekend.

So fuck it. I’m just gonna turn this party up to a nice respectable level. Because I know it, and you know it, and everybody here knows it, and above all, I deserve it. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that this party is about to become a historical fact. But don’t worry mom, I won’t hurt anyone, I won’t even touch em. I’m just gonna make ‘em cry a little. Just by lookin’ at em.

HAVING A HANKERING

It's friday afternoon and I am feeling the grind of a 5 day work week creeping up on me. I've never had a job that made me work weekdays before... no wonder so many people want to blow their fucking head off. Not that reading scripts and watching movies is all that bad of a fucking job... it's just... how do people live without weekdays off? Anyway.

I think I am going to go out and get kinda rowdy this weekend. Feeling it on the deep and down. Somethings just need to be done. I read so many scripts this week, and screened one TERRIBLE movie after another... where do these fucking people with their terrible movies come from? (oh wait, I AM one...)

Anyway. Time to blow off some steam- as only me and the ex-pats can.

There are those that can't do. They teach.

This weekend not only will I do... but they be teaching future generations about it.

ha.

HOLY FUCKING TRAFFIC

For the record, I don’t think I have ever seen traffic like I saw tonight… what normally takes 10 minutes to ride on my Vespa from work to my house took me OVER AN HOUR. And that’s on a fucking motorino… I bet it would have take 3 hours or more in a car….

I’ve NEVER seen anything like it before.

It was so bad I actually thought the terrorists had blown something up, and I just hadn’t heard about it yet…. I mean it was brutal. I still don’t really know why it was so bad… a huge rain storm in the afternoon caused some massive floods and several accidents…

I mean, I guess. It was wild.

Normally you see cars all lines up- think of the 405 right? This was totally different- every possible inch of the street was filled with car, truck, van, bus, motorino… pedestrian…. Each going different directions… All so smashed in that you literally couldn’t get thru…

Italians have a very loose grasp on the whole “block the box” concept… meaning they don’t have one. You know those MC Escher drawings where every shape co-mingles so tightly each going a different direction so that after a while they become one solid mass.

Yea, Italian traffic. It’s kinda like that.

It was like the worst I’ve seen in New York and LA times about 100.

It was awesome.

But at least it wasn’t raining, like it was on the way to work. I got so unfucking believably wet. At one point I was so absurdly wet, my glasses were fogged and my face soaked- the top of my jeans were soaked all the way thru- my rain coat was simply emptying onto my lap. I considered pulling over to wait it out- but I would have been late… and for some reason I decided to trudge thru it. So I said fuck it, and I cranked my ipod to some serious classical music and just embraced it.

I Laughed and screamed the whole way there…. It was amazing. In a totally stupid absurd ridiculous my-kind-of way.

COMMENTS

And to think I almost didn’t even post those midnight rambles… I’m glad I did. Thank you Amy and Roberto… you must have sensed I needed a comment or two. (something other than advertising on blog commenting… hate that)

It seems silly to rant on when Caroline’s parents and so many other have lost everything they owned… so many people lost their lives, and here we wait while Rita moves in… Jesus.

At any rate thank you, you remind me of what IS in LA. And that is most of the people I love most in the world. I’m so lucky to have all you amazing talented bastards (especially you two) in my life…. And that’s the reason I can stand it there for 3 months, or at all.

But I’m not there yet. Am I?

I awoke to a crisp fall day. It seems over night fall has descended here in Rome… Afternoon rains, chilly nights and cool crisp mornings. Work is in full swing right now- so I had two scripts to read today… which kept me in bed with the cats all morning… cuddled up and laughing. Finally TWO hilarious scripts… (I will omit the part about screening the worst film of all time… wow- some people just shouldn’t quit their day jobs).

Come lunchtime I jumped on Luigi and on my way to the store found a Korean market… it was so close to my house, I can’t believe I had never seen it before… I went nuts- tofu, mushrooms, sesame oil… wow. I can home and made a stir fry feast (thank you Penelope for leaving the wok..) Holy yum. OTIF right here in Rome. (Other Than Italian Food… is what that bad boy stands for, it’s what us WOP’s say…)

It was such a small thing, but finding something new today, right when I was all tumultuous about leaving… but damn it was great. Not making me want to stay, or leave… it just, made me happy. Complete. Imagine that. A Korean market making you feel complete. How delightfully simple I can be.

At work I use a PC. I have been a MAC user since I was in 3rd grade. It is a point of pride that finally after 5 months I finally figured out how to change my desktop picture. (Understand the computer is in Italian as an added bonus of difficulty). I put a picture of my godsons up. So no matter how silly I get with my desires to be more, go farther, be different, I can look at the boys and know…they are the light at the end of my tunnel.

Going back to LA is only a means to get to them.

And I can’t wait. But I refuse to let this precious moment pass by.

Everything is just so delicious isn’t it?

PS: Life on Mars by David Bowie is really a great fucking song. Seriously.

I'M LYING HERE

It’s 1am and I can’t sleep. It was a year ago I lied in bed, not far from here, unable to sleep. Tossing and turning thinking about picking up and moving to Rome. And here I am literally, just down the street, a year later, thinking about moving back.

My mind is racing. What will I do with that comforter I bought? How much do I give away, can I afford to ship my vespa home, will it pass a California smog test, should I bring it to Colorado? what I do I do with my coffee maker and TV? God, do I even want to come back? Is this permanent, am I really going back? Do I have to go to LA? Really? Fuck man, I want to go to Colorado, New York, some small tropical island, sure as shit not fucking LA…

The Russian just went to bed. Thank god. I miss Penelope. The Russian talks too much.

I told her today she has to move out earlier than expected. And I told the other girl that was going to be my new roommate not to bother, I was leaving for an indefinite amount of time. She wants to rent my vespa “while I’m gone”

What does that mean, while I’m gone? Do I really want to leave?

I guess I do. It’s just. I like it here so much, and what about my job? I mean, yea it’s not enough money, but I really really like it. I love reading scripts and talking about movies all day for a living. Too bad it’s not A LIVING. That’s the whole problem isn’t it. It’s not enough money it’s just fun. I like acquisitions and development. Maybe I haven’t pushed myself hard enough. Maybe I could have gotten more out of this time…

But what more? Wasn’t this whole time in Rome about NOT pushing myself for once, wasn’t it about resting and finding stillness, and letting my ego rest? Didn’t I do that? Why am I freaking out?

I am kinda. Freaking out.

I don’t think I want to go back to LA. I don’t think I want to turn 30 and move in with my parents a week later. I don’t think I want to go out and watch all the people I love slowly drink themselves to death. I don’t think I want that mediocre life of mine back in LA…

I think I’m just feeling whiny. I think I am just pre menstrual. I think I’m tired and don’t want to have to take a sleeping pill to sleep again tonight. (fucking jet lag… it’s been like 6 days….)

I don’t know. I’m tired, and Pete is snoring for gods sakes.

Maybe I should leave early. Maybe I shouldn’t leave at all.

WHAT A STRANGE LITTLE LIFE I HAVE.

So I am back in Rome.

Got in the other day, and it was really like coming back to real life. I guess I really do live here now.

My vacuum cleaner is broken. I have bills to pay, I need to resign my lease, I start work on Monday. Back to life. Yuck.

Not that this life is all that bad at all.

Got a new roommate. She’s a Russian. Her name is Julia. She lived in Russia for her first 11 years and then in Santa Cruz. Just my luck, a Russian surfer chick. She's ok- not spectacular, (she aint no Penelope) but I think she's gonna be fine. She seems nice enough, and whatever- you know?

Anyway.

It's kinda weird to be back. Now that I know I am leaving, in December, and probably not coming back for a while- I feel weird.

I really don’t want to tell my friends. It took me so long to get them to open up, and now I’m just gonna bail on them? Shit. I mean, sure I can come back and visit… but I feel like a traitor. Like by planning to leave I am breaking some sacred ex-pat code.

This is of course a bit melodramatic… but I do feel this way somewhat…

Anyway- tonight is Notte Bianca. I was here for this last year. Amazing that I am starting to write about things a year later, and still in Rome. Actually come to think of it, I’ve been blogging for over a year, oh and yes, I’ve also been in Rome for a year now (not consecutively of course) but I first came here over a year ago.

What a strange little life I have.

This is from a blog I wrote almost exactly a year ago today:

“I want to be here- I like this life- I want to get paid to write and live in Rome. I want to learn to speak Italian and I want to be an ex pat. I want to be away from all the things that I hate in America- I want to learn to appreciate America again.
I want to live in Rome. And take weekend trips to sienna and Tuscany and I don’t know- everywhere. I want to do it.
I can- I mean- I think I can.
What the fuck? For so long I have come up with excuses- not to act, not to direct, not to do any of the things I want to do- no more.
I want to change my life.
And I’m the only one that can do that.”

That’s the great part about blogging- you can always go back and look thru. I mean I have really come full circle from that. For one thing I live in Rome, I have gone to Tuscany and I am learning to speak Italian and I am an ex-pat… and dare I say it, I have even begun to appreciate America again. (gasp!)

But more than that I have taken the reigns of my life and owned them, taken responsibility for them. And it’s pretty fucking cool. I wish I could stay in rome, but financially it just isn’t happening here.

So I guess that means Its time to come home.

A few more months and then it’s me and lil ol America…. It’s gonna be good. But these days, it’s always good. In fact it’s been this good for over a year now… wow.

HAPPY DAYS

Whoa. What a couple of week. I swear I feel like life couldn’t get any better.

I sometimes wonder why I get to be so lucky. Why me? How is it possible? Not a day has passed in literally months when I don’t pause and realize, I FEEL HAPPY.

Really Really happy.

It’s magnificent. Everything I ever wanted, I have, I need for nothing. I am so blessed with friends and it feels so good.

Being back in the States has been pretty wild.

The wedding was a blast. I mean, top 5 weddings of my life, really fun, really rowdy, really crazy. The ceremony was beautiful… just about every relative I have came up to me afterwards and told me it was lovely, and wanted to know if I had a parish or what. HA!

The late night crowd was in full effect. I will say only this. I have trashed some hotel rooms in my life, but this one takes the cake. It was a proud moment for derelicts everywhere.

The day after the wedding was one of the best days of my life. Me and my family, and the rowdy kids from the night before, my grandpa and his brothers family all in my Aunt’s backyard lighting fireworks in the daytime, eating pizza, hanging out, laughing- god the laughing… haven’t laughed that hard since the last time I was around the people I loved the most in the world… felt so good.

Then I went to the Cape. 5 days in a gorgeous house on the beach with my mom, my aunt, Nikki and Damaris. Holy fucking great. We went to the beach, we did jig saw puzzles (including the hardest one Nikky or I have ever bothered to complete.,) we read, and ate Lobster, we played mini golf… it was amazing. Then my dad and Uncle showed up… It was just SO FUCKING GOOD.

And all the while New Orleans continued to drown.

There is nowhere like the states to make me feel so entirely, whatever this feeling is. Guilty, ashamed, confused, HELPLESS? Man I hate this government.

Being here, I’ve been thinking a lot about coming home for the next year.

I think I am going to be in LA for the winter (YIKES) to work for the man and make some money, and then be in Colorado next spring and summer and maybe even NYC next fall? I don’t know. But I want to be with my god sons more than anything else in the world, and I ache for the country… so I think I am going to give myself the gift of the babies in Colorado next spring. Me, mud-pies and mountains. Happy Days.

But I have to say I have serious reservations about being a part of this country again. I mean, part of me has never left, but do I really want to be paying taxes to a president who makes his vacation in the middle of a war a priority over the single greatest natural disaster in this country’s history? I’m just not sure that’s a corporation I want to support…

I’ve loved being so far away. But I miss my real friends. Being around Damaris is like remembering how to breathe again. I’m just better when she’s around. I miss that, you know?

Anyway. To quote Lloyd Dobbler I “Can’t figure it all out right now sir. Just kinda hanging with your daughter.”

But for now I am in NYC. Been staying with Vicki, spent a wonderful afternoon with Brent yesterday, went to Justin Dragonas’s birthday party, saw a real movie IN A THEATER… New York is fun.

I love this town. And I kinda wanna come here for a few months so I can see my friends for more than just an afternoon a lunch or a drink. It would be nice to actually spend some time with these people. (to have time to see my most secret loyal reader, you know who you are…)

I don’t know.

I do think my new career is to be around the people I love as much as possible. It may not be the most financially responsible thing I have ever done, but at least I’ll be happy.

And man, right now I am. I am just so fucking happy.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. But, what a lucky girl I am…

KNEE DEEP IN THE HOOPLA

So here I am… in Crazy-ass New Jersey. I swear to god New Jersey is like a different country. It’s like a twisted subculture the likes of which gods not seen. And my Aunts house is the zeitgeist. Ground Zero. New Jersey-ites are the strangest people on earth (think Sopranos except more white trash) … It’s all a bit much.

I think I thought- “oh I’m going back to the states- I’m going home.”

I AM DEFINITELY NOT HOME.

Holy fucking shit.

But all that being said, I’m having a pretty good time. It’s fun to be here in the land of the insane. My cousin is getting married in a few hours, and I am performing the ceremony.

I guess I’m ready. I mean, I’m kinda nervous- it’s a pretty big wedding, and it’s my entire family on my moms side. Yikes.

Remember Sixteen Candles? The house the morning of the wedding- that’s us, literally. There are 9 of us at my aunts house, sharing one bathroom, 6 cars, 2 cats, 2 dogs and several hangovers… It’s ridiculous. My uncle smoking ciggarettes and making bacon, Carter and TJ building a sculpture out of lawn furniture wasted at 4 in the morning...( they actually TP'd the backyard) it's beyond beyond.

Meanwhile- New Orleans is underwater, families are displaced, people are being raped, shit is being looted, water moccasins are rocking out with floating coffins- the levee is down and the end of the world is upon us…. And there’s Bush, looking like an asshole and thinking about golf and oil. What a dick.

Anyway.

I gotta go- I have a wedding to perform. Andiamo.

FOR THE RECORD

I guess I've not been very clear, especially if Megan and Amy are confused... you two are like my most loyal readers... so for the record:

I am in the states for two weeks. I am not going to LA. I arrived in NJ yesterday and I will be here till Monday when I go to the Cape with my family for a week's holiday. I am here in Jersey because my cousin Bryna (mom's side, TJ's sister for those keeping count). The wedding is Saturday, I am the minister (gulp, getting nervous now that I am here, can't say a word about being nervous...because, ah, it's NOT ABOUT ME...)

Will be going to NYC tomorrow thur for the day, and going to see Em and Justin, Vix, maybe meggo? Then will be back in the city on Sunday for the same thing... then after the cape next weekend-ish coming back to the city till I leave on Tuesday the 14th. Have to be back in Rome the 15th because I have a new rommate moving in...

THE RUSSIAN. We don't know much about her, american russian, doing her Masters in Rome...seems nice on the phone. Hope she's cool. Scary right? Anyway.Stay tuned bacause the cold world stops: At Via Panisperna 189- Roma.

So there it is, for your voyeuristic viewing pleasure.

Fun times.

IT’S 6 AM

It’s 6:17am and I am on my way to the airport. I was awoken just 5 minutes before my alarm clock went off to the phone. Miss Zoë Foster calling to say, that Emily and Justin Henry had a baby girl tonight (for you, last night for me).

We don’t have the name yet, but we do now the baby is healthy at a whopping 8 pounds 15 ounces, slightly induced, and slightly epidurilized…. But here and happy and god damn it.

So happy for them. So happy I get to go meet the newest family member, because by nightfall I will be in the tri-state-area…

Feeling a little strange- going off to America in a few hours. Jesus. Excited too.

Going to a wedding this weekend, I mean uh, DOING the wedding this weekend, and having some time down at the cape, and get to see Emily’s baby, and see my new found gay friend (go M!) and you know, fun times.

AHHHHHHHHHH. My fucking digital camera broke today… it was the drop that finally killed it.

I’m devastated. I’ve grown so so used to it… feel very sad. But at least I will be in the states the next time I go to sleep. I might just say fuck it and buy a new one. (what else are credit cards for????)

I already miss my cats, and I absolutely already miss my friends and miss my Rome….

Shit.

My friend Julie got married yesterday (Monday I know… weird, here too)… but it was SO MUCH FUN. And a lovely send off if I may say so selfishly.

It’s now 6:23 and the city is waking up, scooters starting, buses driving, metal doors rising…. Noises I will miss. Just not at this hour.

Seems like things ARE changing. At least, today they are.

I CAN’T HELP IT

I am filled with an overwhelming feeling like all good things must end.

I hate this feeling.

I am one of those people who are both blessed and cursed with a hyper aware sense of perception. Which means, when I am in the thick of a moment I become aware of it… this has been a gift and a curse in many ways. Often it has given me pause in a hectic splendid time to reflect, smile and be grateful for my present surroundings… but all the while appreciating that they are indeed temporary… and this time, in my life, will, at some point, end.

Because noting truly great lasts.

Not living with Vicki, not collage, not Shoni, not Miles, not 1450 with Emily and Jocelyn, not poker with Hugo, Brendan and Emily, not the days of Big Al and the ‘back to one’ crew… nothing. It all fades, it all passes… everything grows up.

And so shall I.

…One day.

I am overwhelmed with that feeling today.

Finally I am comfortable here, and with that casual happy, comes the inevitable impending sense that this too shall pass.

Most days I smile, and am grateful that I have been so tuned in, to learn to appreciate such moments as they progress, but today I feel melancholy, and a little premature longing for what I have at present.

Which is a sure fire sign.

That things, are about to change.

BACK IN THE SADDLE

Holy shit the rain. It has been raining so hard here its wild! It’s fucking cold too. I had to get a blanket on the bed, and last night I even got a heated cat bed out for Sally… I’m talking chilly. It’s weird, isn’t it August? July was so unbearable hot, and August has been such fucking awesome weather… who knew? August was supposed to be terrible, not so far! (knock on wood…)

Does anyone remember about a month ago I asked about cold bed for the cats? Well, my friend Kate responded with an answer. It’s called “the Chillow” and it is exactly what I was looking for, a pillow (designed for humans but works for cats) that you fill with water, and it radiates cool. It’s AWESOME. Course it arrived today when I just got the heated cat bed out… but none the less, it’s should be great. I’m sure September will be hot and unpleasant, so they will be life savers.

Oh and get this, don’t think I’ve mentioned this yet, but my tenants are moving out of my apartment in LA this month. And (for those of you that I went to high school with) your never gonna believe who is moving in… Perrin Elisha.

For those of you that that means nothing to (which is probably every single one of you), I went to high school with Perrin and literally haven’t seen her since. And I get this email from her last month, am moving to la, heard you have and apt building…etc. The NEXT day my tenants tell me they are moving out. Fucking timing. SO Perrin and her man are moving into my apartment. Pretty great. Cuz it could have been a wee bit complicated finding a new tenant from Italy… but these things have a way of sorting themselves out don’t they?

And in other TOTALLY FUCKING FANTASTIC news. My parents, being the real estate genius’s that they are sold the house in Colorado, BUT BUT BUT they found a small Victorian right in town that they are ACTUALLY trading houses with, plus being paid the extra. It’s like the worlds greatest deal ever. So. Even though I will never get to go back to my childhood home in Emma, by next month we will have a new Home in Colorado, and now that that is a fact… I may very well have to move there next spring and be with my god sons. I am feeling the need to be near my boys.

I spoke to Shoni the other day and she put Aizean on the phone (FYI my 2 year old god son) who said. “Bye.” His twin brother wasn’t’ quiet up to the challenge, but I almost dropped dead right there on the phone. And that’s when I realized my god sons are growing up and I AM MISSING IT. And that sucks. And I don’t want to. So, as much as I want to be in Italy, I might very well want to be near them more. And now that there is a home on the horizon, I might very well be able to.

Ahhh. It’s all very exciting.

What else. Can’t believe I will be in New Jersey in like, a week. That’s scary. Fucking Jersey.

Anyway. Jersey, than the cape, and lots of friends. Gonna be great.

As for now, I am going to paint a sketch I did this afternoon, and then perhaps down to the pub to see some friends, and I’ve rented a few movies and It will be a snuggle up this evening.

I feel like I’m retired. It’s awesome.

Also I posted about a fucking thousands photos for your viewing pleasure:

Venice
Lucca/ Cinque Terra
More Cinque Terra
And Cortona…

Enjoy.

C

LITERALLY

Without being too melodramatic, my Italian vacation was just about the best week of my life.

I went to Lucca, wound up in Cinque Terra, and then spent two of the most glorious days in Cortona.

If it didn’t before, Italy really really has a hold of my heart now. I love this country so deeply, it’s kinda absurd.

I started off in Lucca, a small town near Florence. I took the train and arrived mid day. Roberto and Caroline were already there, and the three of us had gotten a hotel together. We had a wander for most of the after noon, Lucca is a small town and the original walls are still perfectly intact… it was amazing. We had a fine time. Realizing one day together was entirely not enough they hijacked me and drove me up north with them to Cinque Terra. Cinque Terra means literally, 5 lands, and it is on the coast up by, say the mid thigh/ upper knee of the Italian Boot. It is the bottom of the Italian Riviera… The area, Cinque Terra, is a collection of 5 towns that were fishing villages, they are essentially unreachable by car, and so you can walk in or take a train.

Cinque Terra is so obscenely beautiful, it was kinda hard to deal with… I mean, good fuck how the hell is anything that magical? So the three of wandered around, ate amazing food, drank Camparies by the sea and white wine by night…

The next morning Roberto and Caroline opted to head north, and I went south. I again, took the train, but not before having a swim in the sea (naked). Holy fucking calming surreal amazing.

It actually kinda spooked me how calm and the level of stillness and quiet I achieved… It was massive. And I realized all these months in Rome had been leading up to that morning in the sea, on my back, eyes closed, alone and silent. Floating there in the sea… totally calm. I had achieved all I had ever been looking for. And from now on is a clean slate.

It was pretty powerful.

So after one of those mornings that changes your life forever, I got on the train and headed down to Cortona.

Cortona is most recently famous for being the town featured in “Under the Tuscan Sun.” Aside from the obvious annoying connotations, Cortona is one of the most breathtaking places I have ever been. I had a deep and powerful connection to that place, and I have a feeling that, in my life, at some point I will live there.

It too was massively powerful.

I stayed with Lisabette and her husband Jamie- who are my dear friend Dede and Missy Brinkman niece/ cousin respectively. I had met them once about 9 years ago at Missy’s wedding, I completely didn’t remember them, but the three of us hit it off so big. They are both retired, living in Italy, ex-pat, cat lover, time wasters. The three of us were three peas in a pod, I’ll tell you what.

First of all, their apartment is so fucking amazing- it’s huge and comfortable and has the worlds best view, and just so happened to be perched directly above the town’s main piazza. (Imagine living above times square, without the noise, people, lights, crime, dirt, violence, Americanisms or ugliness… then, it’s kinda like that except a 500 times smaller and without all the neon).

It was such a fun fun two days. I wanted to stay so much longer, but I am such a sucker, I missed my cats and wanted to come home to snuggle them…. So I ended up leaving on a high note, with an unconditional invitation to return…

But Cortona gave me something I had been missing from my Italian Experience, and that was nature. I went on long walks, and we went out and picked wild black berries, and had a picnic in the woods… and the whole thing made me remember that despite all my efforts, I remain a country girl at heart.

The other thing it reminded me was, how much I enjoy drawing and painting. I hadn’t been doing much of that recently, and since I was in Cortona I can’t seem to stop sketching fucking everything I see. It’s very satisfying.

So I got home to Rome on Sat night, and it’s been kinda cold and rainy since I got home. Which is perfect. Because me and the cats have been snuggling overtime… My roommate is moving out in 2 weeks and so she and I spent the entire day in the house yesterday and made a huge Italian feast for dinner… complete with cake! Yum yum yum!

So it’s good to be home… but we’ll see. I may need to move to Cortona. That town, fucking amazing.

It was a great great great week.

VACATION

As if living in Italy isn’t a holiday enough, I am giving myself a real live vacation next week.

My dear friend Roberto Schaffer and his awesome wife Caroline are in Italy for August- and as I will be in the states when they are in Rome, we have decided to meet up in Tuscany.

Don’t have exact plans yet, but I booked us hotel rooms in an awesome little hotel (I found in this bitchen book of B and B’s in Italy that Gracy gave me). The hotel is in Lucca for Tuesday night. So I will take the train up to Lucca (just 30 min from Florence on Tuesday meet up with Roberto and Caroline for the night- don’t know about Wednesday night yet- maybe Pisa? Siena? Maybe somewhere wonderful and coastal? Maybe Montifillanco where there is supposedly the “best restaurant in Italy” “LA CHUISA” (or so says everyone whom I trust who has traveled this country extensively…- I’d LOVE to go…) then Thursday and Friday I will be in Cortona staying at Lisabette Brinkman’s. She is a cousin (?) I think, of my old old friend Missy Brinkman… so it is like family. I met her and her husband years ago at missy’s wedding, (not that I remember that, but they remember me, course… I had blue hair- kinda hard to forget blue hair…)and anyway, they invited me up, and so fuck it I’m gonna take them up on the offer.

After that I don’t know… come back? Maybe see Siena that day.. don’t know. But I speak good enough Italian now to wander safely. I don’t have too much money to spend, but I have this gift of time off, and I REALLY want to explore this country. It’s ridiculous that I have been here this long and have been out of Rome so little.

I am really excited.

On a side note, Friday night was a fucking blast. Me and my little crew actually played truth or dare… holy fucking funny. The thing about that game is, it doesn’t matter where you are from.. a dare is a dare in any language. We had an Irish boy kiss a Sicilian, an English girl get in a dumpster, and a French dude sing the American national anthem… it was solid stupid fun.

Starting to laugh more. Starting to drop the guard and actually laugh. Starting to really really enjoy and trust my friends.

Good times in Rome. Good times.

TO MEGAN AND WANNA

You have to check out this guys web site. He's is a computer animator from UCLA, and his shit is great... make sure to check out the interactive features... totally bitching.

You don't have to be Megan or Wanna to go, I just think you two will like it.

Check it out.

OH DEAR.

Should anyone want a good hardy laugh. Have a look at first comment on the most recent post.

Three words. Laugh out Loud.

Perfect, subtle, ironic, delicious.

God bless America.

UNTITLED THOUGHT

They say your not suppose to drink water while you eat. They say it’s “bad for you.” Did you know that? I didn’t. I just found this out. Every time I tell someone they say, “yea, I’ve known that forever.” As if it were as common knowledge as sugar makes you hyper.

Well I didn’t know. And what’s worse is I DO IT. A lot. I mean, I am a big water drinker at meals… I’m a fill ‘er up a few times ever go round.

So now, anytime I sit down to eat and I plow thru my requisite 3 or 4 glasses of water, instead of feeling refreshed and quenched, as I have been, for, oh say, the past 30 years. I now feel something that I refuse to associate with food. GUILT.

As if there aren’t enough rules revolving around eating and food as it is. Don’t eat fat, don’t eat sugar, don’t eat carbs, don’t eat after 7pm, don’t overeat, don’t eat too much of one thing, eat a certain percentage of grains, proteins, fats and carbs at every meal, count your calories, and the latest addition: Don’t drink water with meals.

What the fuck? Just wondering, is there any other way we can strip any shred of enjoyment from the consumption process?

I mean, we need food to survive. It’s something we HAVE TO do every day of our life, EVERYDAY. Why have we turned it into such a deeply regulated event, devoid of any pleasure or spontaneity? How many times have you heard someone say after eating a cookie or piece of cake, “that was so bad” or “god I’m gonna pay for that later”… when did eating what makes us happy become such a source of guilt and self disapproval?

The two other things that we have to do every day is sleep and shit. Right? And are there already enough rules in those departments, why must food join these two? Are we capably of allowing nothing in our daily routine to give us happiness? Why must we make every thing so restricted, so stringent, so sterile? Why can’t we just relax?

Sleep needs quiet, dark, soft, warm, alone, together…ect. It’s a pretty specifically formulated daily event. And who hasn’t wanted to sleep in, take a nap, get to bed early, stay in bed late more often? Sleeping has become an indulgence, instead of a right. A luxury instead of a basic necessity. We are forced to deprive ourselves of sleep to maintain productiveness. “But don’t wear yourself out.” What is the first thing they are you when you start to feel sick? “Have you been getting enough sleep? Tsk Tsk, you’ve got to take care of yourself.” As if you should know better. How dare you. To sleep all day is to be a lazy bum. To try and keep up is run yourself ragged. It’s an impossible position. And the result is guilt.

And shitting. Don’t even get me started. Talk about rules. God damn there are actual laws against defecating in public. Hell you can’t even piss in public. And holy hell the guilt the surrounds the toilet. Think I’m wrong? Ask yourself why you lock yourself in a closet several times a day. I mean, when was the last time farted loudly in a business meeting? Can you imagine letting one rip and smiling with pride in front of your boss? “Ah a fart, what a celebration to be the animal that is a human!” yea, I don’t think so.

It’s amazing the capability humans have to be ashamed of that which makes us what we are.

And within that, the desire to better out current status. I suppose that’s were dieting comes from. Not so much to be the best you can be, but really just to be better than you already are. Dieting fulfills a need to feel like WE ARE WORKING ON THE SITUATION. As long as I’m aspiring to achieve perfection, I can forgive my current inadequacies. For now, because I have stripped the fun out of eating, and given up hours of my week in a gym, I can feel better because I am working on it, and only now can I tolerate the fact, that I, am only human.

Now then. What can be said for people who don’t diet? People who ignore the innate desire to improve their current status. Do we assume that hey are guiltless? Is that possible? Do they feel that they’re perfect and need no improvement? I think we can pretty much insure that with the crippling prejudices against fat people these days, that that is most likely not the case. Or, do we assume that in fact that are so bogged down with guilt and self loathing that they have simply surrendered to their imperfections and now survive only to indulge them? I don’t pose to know the answer to that question. I think it’s differs person to person, obviously.

Either way, the fact remains that to eat what you want is against the rules. To sleep in is not aloud, and to squat and pee when you are about to burst is simply gross.

We just don’t want to admit what we are. We want to pretend it’s not true. So we idolize these highly manicured and manufactured images of celebrities. People who are nowhere near the perfect creatures we pretend they are. No matter how much she diets, waxes, plucks, jogs, has entire PR teams primp and protect her, and spin her image… the fact remains that when (insert name of your favorite celebrity here) wakes up in the morning, she has bad breath, she needs more sleep, and her shit DOES stink.

My favorite part about it, is that WE KNOW ALL OF THIS. But, it’s akin to jealousy. We can rationalize all we want, and talk about it till we are blue in the face, but we can’t change THE WAY WE FEEL.

Guilt over being human is brutal. And it crosses nationalities and cultural boundaries. It’s human. It’s not animal, it’s human. Dogs shit on the street and look you right in the eye while they do it. They have no shame, no guilt.

It brings me back to the water with my meals. Humans are 96% water. How can water be bad for us? It’s part of who we are. And yet, why do I suddenly feel like an outlaw when I sip my San Pellegrino with lunch? Why do I feel like I am about to be scolded, or worse that I am silently scolding myself?

Perhaps the next time I order, I should just ask the waiter to bring another glass of water, and this time hold the side of guilt.

DUDE, BINGO

Well, I’ve had a pretty good couple of days. I am officially off work, and it’s like a whole new world. So awesome.

I have two days left of Italian class, and it is so much fun. It’s very satisfying to go back to class and to remember everything else I’ve already learned.. as it turns out I actually might be able to one day speak this language.

As you may or may not know, Italians take the month of August off. They all just close up their shops and grocery stores, and businesses and gas stations, and go out of town for the month. It’s pretty amazing. I mean, can you imagine LA closing down for an afternoon? Never. But Rome is dead. I mean dead, and every day it empties out more. All the coffee shops are closed, most restaurants are closed, LUCKILY my grocery store is remaining open (thank god) but book stores are closing, clothing stores, all boutiques… it’s amazing. Now, that being said a certain amount of really touristy things stay open.. it isn’t worth it for them to close, but in general the city gets really quiet.

And fuck man, it’s nice here. The streets are empty. Driving is bliss! This week a lot of construction has started, they use this opportunity to repair a lot of roads and such… but there is parking everywhere, and the sidewalks are empty... it’s just really nice. Course the bummer is all my local restaurants are closed, no pizza, no kabobs, no ice cream, no sandwiches…. But McDonalds is open… woo-hoo.

Speaking of American food, last night me and a few friends went to the Hard Rock Café. Holy shit it was AWESOME. I hadn’t been so excited to see a plate of nachos in my entire life. Fiona, Zoe and I ate them so fast we actually ordered a second plate. HA! We were three girls who had been without cheddar cheese for far too long, and it was time to fix that. Hard Rock has an excellent happy hour, wicked cheap, but I must be getting old, because it is really fucking loud in there, and it reminded me of the hard Rock Hotel in Vegas. The only hard rock I have been to in years.

It was funny, going to the Hard Rock, it made me remember that there was a time when one of my life ambitions was to see all the Hard Rock Café’s in the world. I realize now that was about the travel, and less about the T-shirts… but it brought me back to a time, when the most valuable thing was my hard rock t-shirts… good grief.

Another highlight in the last few days was this weekend when me and a crew of brits when to a roman bingo hall. Pretty much your standard scene out of a kubrick nightmare… it was a really creepy room with enormously high ceilings, a whole smoking section… the walls were primary yellow with burgundy trim, and a whole wall of ENORMOUS industrial piping, somewhat decoratively painted shinny matching burgundy. The room was completely silent save the pre recorded voice of a woman in Italian calling out the numbers.

Quindici.
Due
Venti quatro.

All exactly the same, save the number sesanta sete. For some reason this one was recorded by another woman, and after several rounds every time the number came up, our table erupted with laughter.

It was a pretty fun night, mostly because they kept asking us to be quiet, and this just made us laugh harder. It was like being in church, except you could smoke. We kept ordering round after round of drinks, and not fucking one of us won bingo… it think the fucker was rigged against us. At one point I won. I mean, I totally got bingo, so I yelled out with all my might BINGO!!! Oh man it was awesome, my entire table cheered, everyone gave us dirty looks (a funny thing happens to a group of foreigners who have been in a country so long, and been consistently sneered at by locals… you begin to learn how to sneer back…)

Anyway, mother fuckers came back to me to tell me I in fact had not won bingo, I had mistakenly marked off a number. I was so deflated, heartbroken really. But I decided not to make a big deal and let it go. As the night wore on I got more and more convinced that I should have asked to see the proof. I got robbed man,… I felt like the guy from Dazed and Confused who gets more and more pissed off after getting shoved at the party (Came here to do two things, drink beer, and kick some ass, looks like I’m almost outta beer)… that was me, all brooding hours later…

HA! I didn’t really care. It was still fun as hell. We returned the fuck you by stealing a trophy. Which later was stolen from us by a group of male American tourists… at a bar in the center… ahh how the world goes round.

All in all things are moving along just fine for me.


Let me put it this way, I have taken a nap 3 days in a row, and that, if nothing else, is worth writing home about.