IT’S WHAT YOU TAKE WITH YOU

So as my time here comes to an end, my mind is full of “what next-isms.” I keep thinking about the things I have gotten used to, and all the new shit on the horizon, and all the things that are old, that will feel new- and that which I have attained here- and how much I will bring with me.

First there are the little things- a full set of kitchen knives, choices of plates, more than two mugs… A bigger shower! Being able to control the temperature of water in said shower… wow- a BATH. Wow. And no vespa! My parents house. I have to buy a car. FUCK. I don’t want a car. No way out of that I’m afraid.

Then it’s things like going back to the land where complex carbohydrates are the enemy, and everyone is image obsessed. (Imagine the last 9 months I haven’t heard ANYONE talk about their diet… amazing- so so life altering, I can’t tell you).

And what of TV, and movies anytime I want? And the language… to be back where all communication is possible.

And time. What of all this free time- where will it go? Gobbled up in vacuous LA- land of too many people not enough time?

But life without phone cards, and a real stereo, and my brother and Damaris… And a proper mattress- AND A CHANGE OF SHEETS!!!! Oh wow. So many little things.

But I’ve so gotten used to this paired down lifestyle. Do I really need all that nonsense? No. And yes.

Perhaps I have endured with one set of sheets for 9 months because I always knew, that in a box on the other side of the world, I have more. And maybe I have forgone shaving my legs in the shower for the better part of a year- because one day I will sit upstairs in my parents enormous house looking at a chandelier while sitting in a hot foamy bubble bath… I can be this simple- because complexities are just a plane trip away.

I suppose I won’t know anything until I arrive and it all unfolds. But as I lie in bed- and listen to the sound of Rome outside. Vespas, yelling Italian prostitutes, lost tourists, drunk Irish boys, church bells… god, a thousand church bells… I wonder- what will I miss the most? What is the thing I will want back? Is it in the shower, or the kitchen, or the smell of cobblestones and history, or in the sound of the bells and the motorino’s mufflers? Or is it me? Will I miss who I am here- out on the other side of the world, all alone, the most recent version of myself? Where my oldest friend is someone I met last September… perhaps I will miss the isolation- the privacy. The quiet.

I suspect I will miss the stillness the most.

Is that stillness inside me? Or is it here in this place? Will that quiet be in LA too? Will I find again in Colorado?

Is it in me? Or do I leave it here?

And how much, if any, can I take with me?

FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC

I mean seriously man. This calls for a god damned celebration.

OK- first good news. I may yet be out of the woods with regards to the cat debacle. (see previous entry). Too soon to really say anything yet, but I can confidently express there is a very promising situation on the horizon. Whereby me, Pete, and Sally all arrive safely stateside, and on schedule.

And the second piece of good news, and this one is the doosey… with many thanks going to my brother Carter Carter and my most recent visitor Zoë Foster, it looks as though I won’t have to say goodbye to Rome after all. Allow me to explain.

While Zoë was here she gave me a very wise talking to in regard to my career and my current job and put my head on square (as it’s been a bit wobbly as of late) And with that pep-talk in my back pocket, and my ever techno savvy brother just a phone call away- the following has transpired:

I successfully figured out how to hack into the Medusa network- meaning that I can now receive their emails from anywhere on this blessed globe. (say for example, LA, Colorado.. you see where I’m going with this…)

And then I gave my boss a little talking to- telling him I had no intention of terminating my employment with him, and that I would continue to read scripts and monitor the Hollywood scene for him- only via internet. He, was thrilled by the idea- AND BETTER YET, when he said, “and then we’ll just sort out payment” I suggested in lieu of payment, every other month or so- he should fly me to Rome, where we can have a face to face, and I can… well- come back to the city I love most in the world… for free!!!!

So that’s that. He thought it was a fucking smashing idea, and I, for one am just so damned pleased with myself I would kiss my own ass if I bent that far over.

Seriously. Happy fucking days.

Smile with me world… It’s all gona be terrific, I just know it. Oh and look at that- Chase turns 30 in one month to the day. Good grief.

Buy the ticket. Take the ride.

OK- STAY CALM CHASE

So I just found out that Continental (the airline I am flying out on) DOES NOT accept cats internationally any longer. Gulp.

Neither does US AIR- which is what I came in on, they recently changed their policy. Gulp.

Doesn’t look like very many airlines at all fly cats out of Italy. Gulp.

So, uh…. I am trying to figure this mother fucker out.

Of course I will get them home, obviously it will all work out. I will do anything I have too. Of course. It just might, uh get really fucking stupid expensive.

Awesome.

I’ll keep you posted.

WELL IT’S OFFICIAL

My parents sold the farm I grew up on in Colorado, and they have downsized into a super cute little house in basalt. I’ve been receiving pictures from dad over the past few weeks, and I thought I’d share them with you.

When I see these pictures I know, it’s gonna be great to go home.

ONE MORE THING

I would personally like to French kiss Steve Jobs. My new favorite person. Today I downloaded the season premier of Lost (which I have been unable to watch because I live in another country you see) and I watched the fucking show!!! I cannot tell you how awesome it was. I think that man is a genius. I thinks Apple is the greatest company in the world (kinda). And that makes me very very pleased. Now if they would just get the OC on there my life would be complete.

Ahh, how I love American TV. You really don't know how good you've got it.

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
.

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.

KINDA TRIPPING OUT

I’m starting to freak out a little bit about leaving. It’s resolved and it’s official, I am leaving Rome. Dec 1st. And it’s dawning on me that I am soon enough going to be back in the States and this life, and this apartment, my job and these people will all be a part of my past.
And, as is normal with moves like these, I have begun to evaluate my time here- what it meant, what I learned, why and if and how I move on- emotionally physically- etc.
And, as I may or may not have mentioned, my friend Leisa Inman has been in and out of town for the past 3 weeks. (Travelling throughout Italy, using Rome as a home base). But she is leaving tomorrow, and being the dope sister that she is, she is taking a suitcase home for me. Mostly summer clothes, some fancy shit I’m not gonna wear, extra bathroom shit that- being that I have zero minus two months left, I won’t use up.
And packing that bag today? It totally bummed me out.
I mean, I’m excited to move on- new heights, new stuff… the boys (!!!!!!!!!) I’m looking forward to Colorado so much. Kinda freaking out about LA actually. I’m ready to move FORWARD not backwards.
I left LA for a reason, and I can’t believe I have to go back. And that makes me wonder what this HAVE TO really means? I mean, yea, I’m fucking broke. And it’s only gonna get worse- and the only place in the world for me to live rent free and make lots o’ cash in a short amount of time, is LA. And I’ve created this- I mean, I spent all my money. I partied and gallivanted in Rome for year, at some point- you gotta go back to work Chase. That’s just a fucking fact.
And maybe that’s a part of it. Is that I have really allowed myself to be on a sabbatical from my life here in Rome… and maybe simply I don’t want to go back to the “real world”. But it feels like more than just that.
There are a lot of pressures for me in LA. There are a lot of roles I play there. Sister, daughter, boss, employee, best friend, second best friend, oldest friend, college buddy, high school friend, ex- girlfriend, industry wanna be, aspiring artist, apartment owner, fellow drinker, Laker fan, Clipper Fan Christmas gift giver, hell, cell phone answerer, Starbucks drinker, Whole Foods lover…ahhhhhhhhhhhh.
I led a very social life in LA, and truthfully, I hate it. At least I’ve came to. Once I had a blast there, but now, I’m done. And you can’t go back.
It’s exhausting for me there. And I don’t want to have to be THAT PERSON. And yea, I can sit here and say I don’t have to, and I’m not going to an blah blah fuck you blah. But- us humans, we don’t change. We have our roles and that’s where we live and how we play.
Who am I kidding to say that when I get to LA my cell phone won’t start ringing and just fucking never stop. And who am I to pretend I wont love every fucking caller. Because I have history with them- with you. But it’s overwhelming there for me.
And I’m not trying to whine. I’m really not. It’s just. LA is like the belly of the beast for me. Go back and work for the man. Go to hell and create advertising for the most gluttonous society in the world. I spent almost a decade selling shit to America. Shit they don’t need, and they can’t afford. And I made a great life out of it. But I became a numb sad vacant version of myself.
And while I KNOW that person won’t come back- because I’ve changed, I know that. It just seems pretty hard-core to have to go there at all. And I think I’m afraid to get stuck there again. Like if I go back and am in LA, that doing that somehow de-values my time in Italy. Like my time here meant nothing.
Whatever. Most days I wake up happy as shit- convinced I’ve got this game beat- or at least I’m winning. And most days I’m right. But it’s time to get on the road again. Because nothing great lasts, ebb, flow blah blah blah. Keep em’ wanting more... that’s what they say right?
If I have learned anything from my time in Italy, it’s that courage is in the stillness. It took all I had to walk away and sit still, and shut the fuck up and listen.

And I won’t loose anything I’ve learned. Especially once I land in Colorado. I just know from experience: LA is the least still place in the world.

SPEAKERS, RAINY DAYS AND DOUBLE DIGITS

Oh it’s October. We have arrived in 2005’s double digits…. It’s fall. I mean it’s totally fall: Rain, grey skies, sweaters, jackets, scarves. It’s fucking wild.

This may not seem like much to you- but this is the first evidence of the change in season I’ve experienced in almost 10 years. IT’S SO FUCKING COOL. I mean, quite simply I had forgotten how cool mother nature is. Not that I am really in her arms- I’ve been surrounded by concrete for going on two decades… but seasons. How awesome they are- how much more aware I am that life is happening, that I am here, that THIS IS IT, all because it’s fall. Another reason to be grateful for life’s little miracles.

A second reason to be grateful is for a little guy I like to call dad.

My father changed my life, and he doesn’t even know it.

Since I arrived here in Feb- my only source of music has been my computer, and my ipod. And that’s it…. I mean sure Italian Top 40 streamed in over the grocery store or whatever… but as I’m sure most of you know the speakers coming out of a computer is like listening to your favorite song from the speakers in an elevator.

It sucks. It’s too quiet, it sounds like shit, it’s just so frustrating…. It’s like a musician’s worst nightmare… seriously.

Now, when I arrived here originally I bought two speakers which exploded and died the first day I plugged them in. Right... 220, 110. Lesson learned. And back in Feb I was still reveling in the release of all things materialistic… I was thrilled to be free of all my crap, and so a life without speakers was one I was willing to live…. I even embraced it. I was thrilled to be without them (almost).

But all these little sacrifices, no TV, no speakers, no dryer, no closet… these things grow heavy after a while, and we remember WHY we have them in our life in the first place… because, simply, they make life better, easier. Better, in small little ways, that I had all but forgotten. I mean- living in my sweet apt, with all that STUFF. Fuck man, I had not one, but 3 closets. 3!!!! and they were fucking huge. Hell I had 3 closets AND 2 garages. Jesus.

And now, after nearly in year, I have finally learned how to appreciate that again.

So now your like, “ok, I get it, she’s happy again… appreciating her luck, her life,“ yawn… “I mean Jesus, Chase we get it your lucky, what in the sam hell does this have to do with your father” you ask- right.

When I was in Cape Cod my father gave me a small but fantastically efficient pair of Sony speakers for my computer. I was thrilled (not about the extra weight in the suitcase, but for the potential of being able to ROCK THE FUCK OUT… you know- turn the music up and jam out like it’s the last night of your life… (god I live for that).

Anyway- I got back a few weeks ago and realized after carrying these fuckers 3000 miles- they are 110 and not 220 capable.

SO I was resigned to accept my fate as an only partial rocker these days. I had made it this far. BUT THEN, yesterday I realized, remembered, whatevered, the speakers take BATTERY.

I cannot explain. I really can’t. Otis Redding’s “I’ve been loving you too long” at top volume- windows open- music filling my room, cascading onto the street below for even the hookers to enjoy….

Total bliss.

Over speakers. Bliss over sound, music, projection. This coming from a girl who had speakers wired into every room of her last apartment. Seriously….

And so- the rainfalls, the air chills, the music plays, and I realize how luck I am to have relearned what it means, to appreciate.

Thanks dad.

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.

SOLDI SOLDI

I hate shopping.

I always have.

I am one of those shoppers that always puts it off until I absolutely have to go… you know, I wait until I am down to a few ragged pair of underwear, and I finally breakdown and say fuck it, and go to the Gap Body. I walk in, throw 10 of the exact same size and color on the counter and run for my life.

My mother is the only person I shop with. She is probably the only person in the last 5 years I have tried clothes on in front of. She makes shopping easier for me. She’s fast, has good taste and often pays for things. Somehow it’s not as bad with her.

But lets face it, it’s always pretty bad. Especially because, number one: I don’t have a lot of money to buy whatever I want, and number two: I don’t have a body shape or size that stores tend to favor. So shopping sucks. I can’t fit into anything, and when I do I can’t afford it.

Shopping is evil.

Ok. So I am performing a wedding next month in New Jersey. (for those of you that don't know I am an ordained Minister and my cousin has asked me to perform her wedding, which will be my third). So I have this wedding and I don’t know what I’m going to wear… and normal, it’s like fuck it, I don’t give a shit, recycle clothes, no worried, everyone is looking at the bride anyway. But see, IM THE FUCKING REVEREND., it’s not like I am going to just blend in and be anonymous. I’m pretty sure I will get noticed.. I’d say there is a pretty good chance at least everyone at the wedding will be staring in my general direction for about 10 minutes during the ceremony. Shit

So I have a skirt I can use, and I am totally gonna wear the stand by comfort heals,… that just leaves the shirt. It’s all about the top, which is easier for me than bottoms, so that much is good I guess.

Here’s the rub.

IM IN ROME.

If I thought shopping in the US was bad… holy fuck,.

Stores in Rome are like Beverly Hills on Meth. All the clothes are size fuck you, and so are the prices. I mean SERIOUSLY. And the women working are so mean it’s amazing… really amazing. I’m not intimidated very easily, but I went into a store today and oh my god, I thought they were going to call Interpol on me or something… how dare a person like me DARE to shop in their store…

And now that my Italian is better I can now understand, that no, I’m not being paranoid, they really are talking about me. AWESOME.

God damn I hate shopping. I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty woman. Unfortunately I neither have a very wealth sugar daddy or an ass you could crack a walnut on, so it was kind or a sham in the end for me.

There are only 2 reasons I have any clothes at all. One: my mother. Two: I know where to go at home for what I want when I need it. So when I absolutely have to I can do the old in/out move and get said desired items.

Ahhhhh. SO now we have come to the crux of my problem.

I need something, and I don’t know where to go to find it which means, sadly enough.. I will be forced to…BROWSE.

Is there nothing worse than this? I think not. Wandering for hours looking at one store after another filled with my insecurities and loathing,

I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I wouldn’t give for the familiar comforts of the fancy department at Banana Republic right now.

PAGE 80

Weather I like it or not, I have to admit that I have always imagined that my life is a movie. That somewhere someone is watching, laughing, crying, pulling for me. Interested.

I guess it means that in this confusing ass seemingly meaningless life… there is a point, a happy ending. And even further towards the painful admission… I think it’s a romantic comedy I’m living. I mean as far as I can tell… this ain’t to period epic, definitely not a western… and up until now there has been no conspiracy theories that have forced me to jump off buildings to risk my life for the betterment, and survival of the world.

Ok. So that being said, I think I hit the scene tonight where, despite our hero’s every effort to be disgruntled, angry, lonely and bitter… she suddenly turns around and without realizing it, catches herself being totally happy,

There I was, in my kitchen, in my bra, shitty jean shorts, high heels still on from work and an apron. Cooking eggplant parmesan (something I have PERFECTED here in Italy)… singing out loud, top of my lungs, music blaring, dancing around my kitchen, sweating PROFUSELY.

And actually, if anyone was watching, if anyone was looking in I would look like a bonafied asshole.

But the thing is, it’s sincere in this moment. Happy, hot, sweating, pleased, drinking cold wine.. looking like Shaq with the amount of sweat on my forehead. I mean COME ON.

And then, all the sudden, all alone I start laughing… and that’s when I realize…

Oh my god, I’m having a Molly Ringwald moment….

Awesome.

It really IS a movie… ummm has anyone seen Loydd Dobbler?

LIVING IN ITALY

My day starts slow. Double cappuccino. Rarely breakfast. Sit with the cats. It’s hot already- so I shut the shutters- because the morning sun is poring in and making my room hot.

I usually have a script or two to read. Depending on the heat, or my mood, or whatever- sometimes I’ll stay at home, lounge on the bed with the cats, or sometimes I’ll go out and read. Sometimes I go to villa borghese or villa pamphili. Some times I read at a pub or café.. but not usually in the morning hours. Often I stay at home. Read for 3 or 4 hours. Sometimes I write, look things up in the internet, email… draw.

I never have anywhere to be until 4 pm. So my days are my own… sprinkled with errands, reading… whatever. I spend almost everyday by myself.

At 3:45 I go to work. I ride my baby blue Vespa, Luigi to and from the office. I work behind the villa borghese. Sometimes I like to cut thru the park on my way. It’s illegal to ride a scooter thru there- taxi’s only. But it’s so beautiful, and it always smells so pretty, and people are just happier in a park. Some days I risk it.

Driving to and from work are the highlight of my day. When I am riding Luigi I am complete anonymous. There is no way to tell I am un staneri. (Foreigner). I look, drive and speed like a local. I swerve and jab- zoom thru traffic. Barely stop at lights- NEVER put my feet on the ground… it is bliss.

Work is a funny place. There are 4 people in the office. Christina- the woman I see most. I work in her office- the receptionist room. I help her answer the phone when she is on it, I open the door for people… she is Roman, and now that I work there- her English is fucking good. She is the first Italian woman under 35 who has been nice to me. And I like her a lot. Most days at work I write my coverage’s from the scripts I have read… sometimes I read in the office. Christina leaves me alone when I read, I don’t have to answer the phone or talk to her, I put my ipod on and see how fast I can get thru a script. She’s been timing me. I’m getting faster.

Faruk is my boss. He is Turkish and really nice. He is funny, handsome, charming, smart, and has excellent taste. (and really amazing art in his office- including an original Monet, two Warhol’s, a Chagall and a sketch from the school of Michelangelo…it’s intense). Then there is Massimo- still can’t figure out what he does. And Teng. Teng is Chinese, and as far as I have gathered, Faruk and him are old friends, and Faruk just lets him use the office for his fashion business in Hong Kong.

I don’t have to go to the office if I don’t want- but I enjoy it, plus it gives some structure to my day.

This will be my last week of work for a while- we are closed most of August. I have decided to go back to Italian school. So it won’t really be like I am off. I am just exchanging one daily project with another.

At 8 pm I get off work. I’m usually hungry. Sometimes I go home a cook something, Sometimes I treat myself and eat out. Sometimes I pick something little up and go down to Finnegan’s, my local pub and see if I know anyone in there. I almost always do. The thing about an ex-pat small nit English speaking community in a foreign city- is you tend to stick together. This bar is our living room, it is where we watch TV, and listen to music together. It is where we play pool and laugh.

A few months ago I didn’t understand the pub thing. I went there and got drunk. Didn’t realize yet that the alcohol is a total secondary thing at the pub. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that it’s there- but it is hardly the root cause of why we, and I go there. At least, not anymore.

I pull up on my Vespa, and there is a group sitting out front. Zoe and Suzie yell in unison “Yeaaaa, Chase!!!” They make me feel nice. They like me. And finally, after 7 months I’ve realized, I like them too. They are great. Then we sit around and tell some crap story. Talk about some bullshit or another. It’s the same core crew, give or take a few. People come thru all the time… transients, temps. Giles is here just for 6 weeks. He works for the Canadian embassy. He is smart and funny. And I get to talk international politics with him. Hugh was here for 3 months. He’s gone now. Hannah has left too, so has Damaris. Suzie and Tony are moving to Sardinia. But not for a year. There is always a feeling of the temporary here. We are always aware that this ride is short, and everyday we just try to stay on for as long as we can. None of us are from this place, but this is where we have chosen to be. And we all just hope that no one will show up, and make us go home.

Sometimes I hang out for a while, sometimes I just pop in. When I go home. I have to read a script. But I don’t do it right away. I sit in my room, look out the window. Smoke a cigarette and let the sky cross my mind.

Pete is sleeping on the floor by the closet. Sally is asleep on the chair. It’s cooled down a bit – but it’s still hot. Finally it’s gotten quite. The occasional scooter goes by under my window, the building shakes slightly.

Maybe I’ll take a look at that script. Who’s in it? Nah. I think I’ll just go to bed. I’ll have plenty of time to read in the morning.

CUPLA THINGS

So TJ my cousin came to town- totally surprised me. Just showed up for like 36 hours. It was really awesome. We had so much fun- amazingly my job just happen to give me Friday off (“we have decided to take a half day tomorrow, so you don’t have to come in..”) Awesome. I Love Italy… half days everyday!

So TJ I ate a bunch, rented him a scooter, walked a lot, sweat our asses off, got very drunk and rowdy- stayed out all night on Thursday… it was fun.

He left as quickly as he arrived- pretty classic TJ, but we laughed a lot. I love that kid. He’s a smart funny bastard.

Today I am taking my scripts and going to the pool. I have to read, but I need to be in the water, I can’t take another day of this kind of heat. So I am gonna jump in my suit and go to the pool in a few minutes.

Oh and great news, did any one hear about the terrorist they found in Rome riding a bus? Totally sweet. Really pleased about that.

Fuck.- I know it’s a big tourist town but how bout this- if you want to kill us your not invited. Is that cool?

Anyway- people are a little spooked around here. Little too close to home you know?

Ok fuck this- I have really bad cramps and I’m hot as a motherfucker. So I am going to the pool. Ciao box.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT IT'S HOT

I mean hot. I mean like unrelenting oppressively unbearably hot. And with no a/c at home- there is never a time that the heat stops.

Without getting too melodramatic, I’ve quite simply never been this hot this many days in a row. Today was probably 110 degrees- maybe 105 I don’t know. The fans blow hot air, I lye around with ice on my head and take cold showers. I have maybe brief relief… but nothing that lasts. I just never stop sweating.

It’s one thing to be hot- it’s quite another to be this hot for this long. I almost don’t want to say it out loud, but I’m worried about Pete. He’s so hot… I can just tell he’s miserable. I put ice in his water, cool him down with wet towels, put ice in the sink and then put him in it…

But it’s just hot all the time. Even at night. I made the mistake of being outside in the world between 12 and 2pm today- went to lunch. The restaurant had ac so there was a brief glorious respite, but the wall of heat that I walked into after leaving the restaurant… I thought I was standing in front of an ac unit outside… it was like that hot, that intense.

Fuck man.

Let me put it this way- my eyeliner is melted. And it’s been sitting in my bathroom… does that give you an idea of what I am talking about here. I mean. It’s fucking hot.

I hate the hot. Almost as much as I hate the cold. I miss LA weather. Too bad it’s in LA. Fuck.

It's nikkys birthday! Happy birthday girly.

WEATHER

It’s so hot here, that today, as I was sitting directly in front of my fan, which was blowing hot air at me… I actually had to reach back behind the fan and check whether or not the heater behind the fan had been turned on accidentally. It hadn’t. It was just really that hot.

Fucking hell. Makes me miss god old temperate LA.

SPLURGE

I cannot tell you how, after months and months of living without a TV and DVD player- the amazing sense of self I was returned to after I walked into the video rental place and rented two movies. This might be sad to say- but I felt almost human again. It’s just, after 10 years of working in the film biz not being able to rent a fucking movie and veg out was starting to take it’s toll.

Consider that when I lived in LA I had every electronic gizmo known to man. 2 TV’s, tivo, a phone line, a fax line, a fax machine, a cell phone, a computer, an ipod, a palm pilot, an airport, caller id, (fucking hell in my two bed room apt I had FIVE phones… )shit, I had the thing that makes the ipod work in the car… even the fancy car to boot. I mean my shit was consumerized… all the way.

And for the past several months I was feeling so liberated from all of it. From all the fucking cables, And all the energy consumed, and all the bills that went along with them… Just all of it. But after the novelty wore off- it feels good to have a TV. And granted it’s only a 14-incher, and has DVD connected to it… but it’s just about the fucking best TV I’ve ever had!

And so I guess that got my appetite up- so yesterday I went out and bought myself something else I’ve been needing awfully bad. (not an electronic…) But a big pot and two frying pans! Oh man. What bliss it is to cook in proper cooking ware. So simple. So happy.

I guess sometimes you just have to strip down to basics to realize how lucky we are to have the simplest of things.

And then sometimes you have to reward yourself with a few meager purchases to remind you that- you are in fact, an American, after all is said and done.

I know I have 3 scripts to read for work tomorrow (yea, that’s 600 pages) but fucking hell, I might just have to put in a movie first!

UPDATE

So Max left. He had a whole bunch of shit come up that he had to deal with, so he’s gone back to the states… seems like it’s for an indefinite amount of time. Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t give notice on my apartment right?

So it’s too bad that he’s gone- but I will survive. He wasn’t really here long enough for me to get used to him here.

So that’s that. Once again it’ just little old Chase out here in the big Italian unknown all by here self. Awesome!

MEDIA WORLD

So after just the most infuriating week ever, where by it took 2 days to get a repair guy to come look at the broken fridge, he simply stated- “this fridge is broken. It is not worth it to repair it you should buy a new one”.

No shit.

So after an absurd amount of phone calls back and forth with the landlord and the agency guy… I just told them this morning- fuck this, I was going to the store to buy a new fridge and I would deduct all costs from my rent.

So I took a taxi to Media World (italy’s version of best buy or circuit city) and I bought another fan for the kitchen, a top of the line new fridge and fuck it while I was there I got a tv and dvd player! HA!

And the best part is I told the taxi driver to wait while I shopped.

So all I had to do was get the shit, and jump right back in the cab.

So the fridge is being delivered tomorrow- and hopefully tomorrow this time I will be drinking a nice cold beverage in the comfort of my own home.

It’s been a pretty tough week to not have ice or cold beer in the fridge- I mean, with this heat wave and all…

Sometimes you have to take the situation into your own hands. I’m only kicking myself I didn’t do this on Monday…

Beyond that- the TV has presented a furniture dilemma in the room- I had to sacrifice a precious chair to hold the sucker up, and move my desk… and well now the whole balance is off… I’m gonna have to figure it out. This may call for a complete switch around of the room… I’ll let you know. But right now it’s too hot to think about that shit- and I’ve got the new Billy Bob Thorton script to read.

Ciao box.

C

BUT IT'S LIKE, DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK?

Fucking real life.

Woke up to a total Monday Morning. Seems like if you live somewhere long enough reality is bound to catch up with you.

First of all my refrigerator crapped out. Just fucking died. Spoiling all of my food, and dripping water from the ice box all over the floor. Arg. That (related or not, I have no idea) may or may have not inspired a large group of Italian Ants from the wall by the front door to decide to migrate over to the cat food. I have never seen an ant in this apartment before… but this morning there were tons. But I remembered having seen ant spray under the sink (never a good sign)- and in fact it was there. So I sprayed the little fuckers source hole from here to kingdom come… and we’ll see if I can’t hold ‘em at the gate as it were… For now- all cat food is in a bowl of water. And I would say no food left out, but being that my fridge doesn’t work… “out” is sort a relative term this morning.

Fucking a. And it’s only 9:15.

Shit. The only thing on my side is that I am suppose to meet my landlord today to pay the rent. Looks like I’m not paying till I get a new refrigerator… ha.

Will keep you posted.

ON THE MEND

Got home on Friday night to a cold. I had been fighting it off all the while I was in Venice but it really took hold Friday night and so I went to bed at about 11pm and slept clear thru till 1pm yesterday. Spent the ENTIRE day in bed and read, slept and watched movies… it was good- because today I feel much better. Thank you mom for sending those medicines once upon a time. They came in awfully handy this weekend.

It is hot here. I mean like really really really hot. Sitting still in the shade with a fan on you and still sweating. The thermometer reads 84 in the shade, but it feels hotter than that. My poor cats. I have been putting ice in their water and wiping them down with a cool cloth... but the poor fuckers are hot and lethargic. Pete spends almost all the time on the sink where the porcelain is cool.

Question- has anyone ever seen an invention of tiles or something like a cat bed that keeps it’s cool? I mean, I have a heating bed- is there such a thing as a cooling bed? I would buy it in an instant if there were such a thing. One for the cats and one for me…

Any way it’s Sunday, and it feels like it.

I woke up feeling much better, an just cleaned the house from top to bottom, am doing laundry, and this afternoon am going to hang out with some friends…

Hope all is well on the home front.

Xoxo

C

VENETIAN DECADENCE

Wow. What a couple of days.

Venice is absolutely breathtaking. I had only been there once before, and that was for about 10 hours, and at night… so this trip was a real treat.

We stayed in a one two three four FIVE star hotel. What a difference that 5th star makes. Our room was a suite and it was really fucking nice. Big ol tub, and a view over the Grande Canal, a balcony… holy mother of god. Let me put it this way, Elton John was staying at our hotel the same time as us…. Capice?

So we indulged in the fanciness of the hotel, and we ate one two three four twelve amazing meals. I mean, course after course of just amazing ridiculous you can’t imagine delicious.

And then we went and looked at art. The whole reason for the trip was to see the biennale. Which is a exhibition of art from all over the world. It happens every two years and it is up from June to November. There are museums all over the city that participate, so to really see it all would take days… but we saw the two large museums, and a few small ones. And then on Friday, Max and Gracy left at noon, and being that I didn’t fly out until 4ish- I stayed in the city and cruised around alone, and saw a few more shows.

Highlights include a chandelier made of tampons (picture coming), an amazing Australian artist named Ricky Swallow, and the Lucian Freud retrospective.

It’s been a long time since I was so decadent and indulged, good food, good art, and great company.

It was a real treat.

It was really nice to see Gracy and Max and Clair and Pam… but I have to say the real highlight of the trip was Friday morning zipping around alone. And that really has nothing to do with them, but just reinforces my suspicions that I am just far better off alone. It made me ponder just how much time I spend alone in general… it’s really pretty incredible.

Some people are just built to share their lives with another person, take my parents for example: the have been married for over 35 years, they work together, they spend their days off together, they take trips together, and if that isn’t enough they even do their errands together. They are a TEAM. It’s so nice. I don’t think I could ever do that. I just like to say later, and take the fuck off alone. I go to sleep alone, wake up alone, eat alone, read alone, write alone, sing alone, dance alone, hell, sometimes I even drink alone. I just like to be by myself. Which is odd, because I am actually one of the most social people I know… humm.

Anyway, fucking hell, sorry, clearly not a complete thought… perhaps I should think things thru before writing…

Anyhow, Venice was really marvelous. I will post pictures in the next day or two...

Wouldn’t have gone without the kindness of Gracy and Max. So a public thank you to my very generous friends…

It was a blast.

Oh and by the way, I am not going to Sardinia the weekend… didn't have anyone to watch the cats. So I came home. Got to be a responsible mommy!

I DON'T USUALLY DO THIS

But I was sent this article by my friend Melissa, And I just had to repost it.

This is how I repond to all of you who would ask... so why aren't you dating a hot italian stud yet?
As reported by Yahoo News - June 24th 2005

ITALIANS 'BRIBE' SONS TO STAY HOME INTO THIER 30'S

ROME (Reuters) - More than 80 percent of Italian men aged between 18 and 30 still live with their parents and a new study says it is because they are "bribed" by mum and dad.

The study found high rent and unemployment might also be among the reasons for so many mamma's boys. However, mostly they stay at home because they are spoilt by doting parents.

"Parents will be willing to trade off some of their consumption to 'bribe' those children who remain at home by offering them higher consumption in exchange for their presence at home," economists who conducted the study said.

The researchers at the University of London and University of California, Berkeley, found that a 10-percent increase in parental income resulted in a 10-percent rise in the proportion of sons living with their parents.

That means if the parents get a pay rise, the grown-up children get to spend the cash, giving them an incentive to stay at home.

The study found that 82 percent of 18- to 30-year-old men in Italy still lived with their parents, compared with 43 percent in the United States. The proportion in France, Britain and Germany was between 45 and 53 percent.

The study, entitled "Why do most young Italian men live with their parents?", was published by the London-based Centre for Economic Policy Research.

HAVING A HANKERING

Been thinking a lot the last few days about Italy vs. Rome. I think I might be ready to live in a different part of the country. I was thinking of spending the fall in the country. Perhaps somewhere a bit more remote, a bit less expensive. And a bit less touristy. Perhaps Tuscany, the Amafi coast, Sardingnia… I don’t know.

I am going to Venice this week for a few days, and I was thinking maybe instead of flying back on Friday as planed, maybe I will take the train back, and take my time, stopping in Pisa, or Lucca or something.

I bet for the same price I pay for my apartment in the center of Rome I could get a fine old place in the middle of nowhere. Where I could write read, and sit with my cats out doors.

I think my main pull is the language, Seems a fucking shame that I have been here for as many months as I have and I still cant speak the fucking language. It’s a joke really. It’s just that my life in Rome consists of English and Irish friends, English speakers at work, reading in English for work, American and other English speaking tourists around every corner…. The truth is, I actually kind of KNOW how to speak, I just don’t get a chance to practice.

And despite what you might have heard, Italians are in fact NOT the friendliest people in the world (or is it just Romans?)… but to make Italian friends, is simply not as easy as it would seem.

At least not for me.

And at least not in this city.

(that being said, I have just recently really taken it to the next level with my Brit friends… I am feeling much more comfortable with them and the crazy chase is starting to surface… and they are starting to understand and enjoy it… it’s kinda great)…

So I don’t know, But I think it’s time to do some exploring.

I know Rome quite well now, and I actually could stay a lot longer. But I’d like to live somewhere a bit cheaper, so I could keep this engine running a bit longer. So who knows.

Perhaps I wont go anywhere. Perhaps I will.

Either way, as most things in my life now, all doors are open, everything is a possibility, and I am ready to accommodate all ideas.

TO MOM AND DAD

As many of you know- or at least those of you who know me well- I’m not a huge fan of taking showers. I mean, I like to be clean, it’s just that with long hair it is such a fuck process. Wash, condition, brush, dry, straighten…urg.

Anyway, there have been more than a few occasions when I would let it go (ahem) quite some time- since I would have last showered. I mean not a long time, like a week-ish or so…

Anyway. My parents hate this about me- when last discussed over dinner when I was home, I believe my father called me “a child, who refuses to grow up” and said something about “picking battles” that are “totally full of shit.”

And. he is right of course, I mean, he’s right about most things concerning me. Even though I don’t give a shit, and, being too lazy to shower is hardly what I would call “picking a battle”, what can I say… what the hell.

Anyway- mom and dad, wanted to let you know that Rome provides me with the kind of environment that is so fucking hot most days, that I ABSOLUTELY IRREFUTABLY HAVE to shower EACH AND EVER DAY. Sometimes twice.

It’s really a fucking hassle. And I hate it. I so clean these I squeak. But… you gotta do what you gotta do. And I thought, you might appreciate knowing.

ITALY IN THE SUMMER

So summer no matter where you live still feels the same. Warm, relaxing, bbq’s days by the pool, the beach. God damn.

Been socializing a lot, getting to know these people I call my friends better and better. And really enjoying Rome in the summer. Spent yesterday by the pool. (Rome hosted the Olympics in 1960, and the remaining Olympic sized pool is totally awesome) So me and my friend Suzie and her fiancé Tony spent the day just sitting around getting sun and swimming and drinking beer and totally having a blast.

I am so bloody tan I fear I am going to look like luggage by the end of the summer, (and I was wearing 45 all day…fucking hot). Actually the heat has cooled down substantially. It’s really not so bad. When I first got back it was brutal, but now it’s kinda fine

Roman Law requires all swimmers to wear a swimming cap while in a public pool. It’s pretty crap if you ask me, especially since every time you dive in the fucking thing comes off. I have a few excellent photos of me in my awesome new swimming cap. Fucking hell. It was just so nice to spend the day lounging with friends, BY A POOL. I swear everything is right in the world when your by a pool.

Even when it’s not. What a bunch of cunts (sorry mom) those fuckers are that bombed London. Fucking wankers. All this madness has of course been making me think about 9/11 and how nuts that was. Did anyone see Ron Livingston’s speech? That dude rules. I guess not ALL politicians are assholes. (And apparently it IS possible to make a speech without reading- ahem, Bush….) I was really impressed by him. It was just so nice to here a politician speak wisely and earnestly and kick a little ass while he did it. Totally awesome.

What else. Shit I don’t know. I thought of things to write all day, and no that I’m here I can’t think of shit. Bullocks.

I am totally starting to swear like a brit. Fucking Suzie. She’s rubbing off on me.

Anyway. Tired as hell. Off to bed.

UNTITLED

The steady calmness of nothing much to do most of time is returning to me. It took a few days, much shorter than last time. It comes on slow, and then it is as if I, just, sort of, tumble… into a sort of self induced laziness. I am not fighting it this time. When I first arrived all those months ago- this life style seemed frivolous and indulgent. Now I understand it is crucial to living a long life. After a few hard months of beating the worker bee mentality out of me, I have come to view these mornings of rest and reading and writing as a delicious treat, that should be savored and enjoyed.

I suppose somewhere deep down I still feel as though all of this is merely an indulgence, a calm before the proverbial storm. My whole life I was taught that there was some importance, even a responsibility to live up to ambition, desire, success. Here in this sleepy Italian city, the world rushes around me and I feel calm, still like a pin standing on end- perfectly balanced. But precarious none the less. Like the slightest pull of temptation- tales of spoils, riches, exotic nights- they could pull me back down to a busy life…

Here I am living the good life, one I have neither earned nor deserve. Still with debt, and running on a financial reserve that doesn’t exist I am seeing how long I can make this odyssey last. Fueled by lazy mornings and hot sticky afternoons in some silly feng-shued office in a fancy part of town talking about movies and waxing knowledgeable. These days are precious. These days are few.

But they are here, and so am I.

IN ALL OF MY THOUGHTS

I never thought I would be welcomed home like I have been. What a surprise. What a delightful fucking surprise.

BACK IN BLACK

So now I am in Rome, it's so awesome to be back, really chill, easy, wild really. Like I just fit right back in. Max is here now, and I think that is gonna be amazing. It’s just so nice to have an old old friend around- and for GOOD! Ha. So awesome. He brought so many DVD’s with him- it’s truly thrilling. We are getting him a bike this week, and gonna get him a temp apt (he is in a hotel right now)… but he is gonna be traveling around a bit, so we probably won't get a place together until September. Which is perfect, because there will be a lot more available then, and that is when my lease is up anyway. So I am thrilled.

Everything just feels as it should right now. What s feeling. I can’t tell you.

Speaking of Max, he surprised me with what he is calling "a belated birthday present"- he is taking me to Venice and Sardinia for 5 days in July. We are meeting his mom and sister (Claire) in Venice for some big Art show thing, and then we are going (maybe) to stay at our friend Melanie's place in Sardinia for the weekend.

I'm sorry- HOW FUCKING CRAZY IS THAT???? When did I become a jet setter? I am totally excited. I can't fucking WAIT to go to Venice. It's gonna rock.

So right after that I will come back and start my second round of Italian classes. Which is a good thing, because I can’t remember jack shit for Italian. I ran into my friend Massimo last night, who I only speak Italian with… and it was brutal, he was like- WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU? I just couldn’t talk… it took so much brain power, but then, even after just a few minutes talking to him, I was better after that- I just haven’t THOUGHT about Italian in so long. Bahhhh.

It's hot like a mother fucker here. Really hot. Like- can't be out in the day around 1-2pm. I am going out to buy a fan today, as the AC in apartment in fact- does not work. Shit. It stays pretty cool in my apartment- but not cool enough you know?

The cats were fine in my absence it seems. They seem just dandy. When it's really hot they just both lye completely sprawled on the floor cuz it is kinda cool. I have to fashion some kind of cooling bed apparatus for them... ever heard of anything like that? Like a heating pad but cold? I carried home about 20 lbs of cat food for them, and holy shit was it worth it- they were so happy to eat it, it was cute. Gobble gobble. Love those little fuckers.

I had an interesting insight about my friends when I got back. I felt for a while before I left that I wasn't so sure how much I trusted all my new friends, and I think I felt somehow suspicious of them and them of me... in a way that I couldn't put my finger on...

but when I got back everyone was so genuinely happy to see me, and my phone starting ringing "I heard your back!!! I missed you" and what I realized was this: This little transient ex-pat community is in fact, just that. Transient. And people come and go so quickly and easily- the people here have become so hardened, because it sucks to become friends with someone and then they leave 6 months later. It's like- hi, how long are you here for? 2 months, fuck off then, can't be bothered. And I think when I came back it was like, Chase, she DOES live here, we can count on here, we can become her friend... you know? I just hadn't though of it like that before. Which made me feel better. Because I thought it was about me for a while. And now I realize it's nothing to do with me personally. It was interesting. And I already feel closer with a few of them. I also decided that the people that I'm not really friends with can go fuck themselves. I am not going to try anymore. Some of them like me, and some don't. I haven't a clue why I was trying so hard before. Maybe it's helps that Max is here, and I feel like- well I have a REAL friend here now, I don't NEED you, like I felt like I needed them before.

Anyway- it’s fucking great to be back. Start work on Monday- kinda excited to get back into- time to renegotiate, want to do a lot more there, really get to work, so hopefully that shit will work out.

I will, of course keep you posted.

Xoxo

C