Sarahnissima
Italy and such as

July 1, 2009

This morning I got up and hiked up a mountain in the Tuscan hillside to go see a castle. I walked through the Cyprus trees that make the hillside so spiky, past the rows and rows of olive trees that dot the land, past a few run down buildings that were once the place someone called home, until I reached the castle. It only took me 20 minutes from the apartment so I grinned to myself and kept on walking. I walked and walked, farther and farther up the hill until I reached a stop sign 20 minutes later. It seems that, like Forrest Gump, I need a sign to tell me when to stop.

You see, I’ve been feeling a bit like a chunky monkey lately (following a week of eating characterized by non-existent will power) and I’ve been a little frustrated that I can’t just take off running the way I used to. You know, baby and all. So I decided today to go conquer walking, following all my normal running routine stuff. What I found in hiking up the hill, my iPod cheering me on (thank you Aunt Lisa!), was that my legs were burning, I was sweating profusely, I had to work to control my breathing, I wanted to quit, I wanted to cry, and through it all I had a profound sense of satisfaction that I didn’t stop, that I didn’t cry, and that I had done it. It seems walking can be a substitute for running. Huh, who knew? I guess you just have to climb a mountain.

I can’t complain too much though, it was a beautiful place to torture myself. Chris and I are living out next to I Tatti right now while we cat- and house-sit for his boss so my walk wasn’t the usual stroll down the Arno or climb past Piazza Michelangelo. In fact, I didn’t see a single piece of dog poop on my walk so I knew I wasn’t in Florence. The air smelled like pine needles and olive trees. There were birds chirping and the air was filled with almost constant buzzing of weird forest insects. On my way back (mercifully downhill after my 40 minute climb up) I passed a clearing in the trees where I could look out over the valley in which Florence sits. Right there, right in the middle, was the pride and joy of Florence: Santa Maria del Fiore, the Duomo. I giggled to myself and thought, “I love this place” and kept on walking.

So that’s how I started my day today.

Updatepalooza continues…

January: Time to work

I didn’t have as much time for sticking around America as I’d hoped to have at Christmas time. The time flew and before I knew it, the day had come for me to say goodbye to everyone, Chris included, and hop on a plane, go over the great big ocean, and find myself in Florence once again, only now as a teaching assistant and not a student.

And it was really my working as a teaching assistant for the Masterpieces class that was my big news for January. Along with the new job came a whole new way of dealing with Florence and relating to the Captain, who was now my boss, not my professor, and Ciambella, who was my fellow teaching assistant. I was a little nervous on my first day of class, but not too bad. The first time I spoke up in front of everyone was nerve-wracking, though all I was doing was asking them all to sign the attendance sheet. They were a new group of strangers who knew nothing about me, what I did last year, or what I was going to ask of them during the semester and frankly, I don’t blame them because I didn’t really know either.

My routine was this: Monday morning Ciambella and I would meet the Captain for coffee and pasta (remember, that means a pastry) before class. Class on Monday from 11-12:30. Tuesday and Wednesday, Ciambella and I would split the onsite lecturing, each of us taking a 45 min block. We would lecture at different spots around Florence, like the Piazza della Signoria, the Church of Santa Croce, the Spanish Chapel at Santa Maria Novella, and places like that. On Thursday mornings we would go through our lectures for the following week with the Captain and that might sound familiar to those of you who followed my blog last year. Last year Ciambella and I did provas, where we were guest lecturers for the Masterpieces class. I did mine last April, I think it was. You might remember that it was one of the most stressful things I did all year. Anyway, as a TA I got to do them every week, but they became less and less stressful as the semester went on.

Ok. So that was my basic routine… and I absolutely loved it! Minus the weekly provas, of course. I was surprisingly busy and surprisingly attached to the students. I couldn’t believe how quickly that happened! Of course, they were my first class ever and I’ll never forget them.

And that’s how I spent most of my January. It wasn’t until the end of the month the Chris came over, joining the ranks over at the newly-christened Casa di Carciofi. I’m sure it wasn’t much of a treat for him to live with three very busy, usually stressed out silly girls.

February and the little surprise…

At the beginning of February something seemed a little funny… with me. I don’t really know how to explain it except that I felt I had been sprinkled with CGI fairy dust and I couldn’t fight the feeling that something had changed with me. And I had a pretty good idea what it was, though I couldn’t really believe it. I was pretty sure that Chris and I had a little surprise on the way, say in about 9 months or so.

For most of the month of February I went back and forth between “I am, I’m sure of it” and “there’s no way I could be, I’m not.”

Padua

My CGI fairy dust feeling was on my mind when Chris, Ciambella, Lara, the Captain and I all boarded the train and headed to Padova on the 7^th to see the Arena Chapel, also called the Scrovegni Chapel, decorated by Giotto. It’s one of the most important works of art in western art history and I was thrilled to be seeing it for the first time.

I wasn’t disappointed. When I first walked in I actually teared up. It was so amazing.

Our trip was quick, but wonderful. And I was still wondering at the end of the day… “hum… could I be?”

Rome

The 13^th and 14^th of February I went down to Rome with the Michelangelo class for my second private tour of the Sistine Chapel. I felt good because that morning I had decided that there was no way I was pregnant and I was relieved to free of the constant chatter in my head.

Since Ciambella and I had already done this trip with the Michelangelo class we decided to go off and do our own thing. A sciopero, or strike, made us cancel our reservations with the Borghese gallery—annoying—but we managed to fill our time with other things. At the end of our busy day, but before the private tour, we were headed to the Castel Sant’Angelo when we got distracted by a ice rink right next to the Tiber. We had to.

After paying for our lockers and skates we hit the ice. Ciambella used to play ice hockey so we’ll forget about how she was skating circles around me while I wobbled around like Bambi on ice. I did better than I expected, but I thought I’d die so saying I did better than expected is not really saying much at all. While Ciambella was off getting her camera to document our fun I did the one thing I was hoping to avoid. A group of unruly Italian children around the age of 7 went zipping past me doing triple salchows, sit spins, and double axels. Those little snots cut me and off and next thing I knew I was flying through the air in slow motion, feet to the sky, arms flailing, as I went crashing down butt first with a mighty thud on to the cold, hard ice. Fortunately for me, Ciambella wasn’t back yet, so neither was her camera. I took it easy after that.

The trip to the Sistine was stunning, as it had been before.  (Uh–look at that picture!  Do you see how empty that place is?  Incredible!)  Afterward, I joined Lara, the Captain, Carol the librarian, and Carol’s friend for dinner at Armando’s next to the Pantheon. Lara and I mistakenly ordered plates of melted cheese (don’t ask), which caused serious GI distress and a lot of nagging from the Captain, but all was made better by the desert. It was maybe the most delicious pie, Lara’s apple pie notwithstanding, that I’ve ever eaten. Oh, happy.

My second day in Rome was spent in the Pope’s gardens (where you can get some great views of St. Peter’s from the back) and checking out some other churches before heading back to Florence.  Oh, yeah, and Lara and I accidentally got on the wrong metro at one point and ended up running at full speed from Piazza Repubblica to Santa Maria della Vittoria to see Bernini’s Saint Theresa in Ecstasy. I guess I didn’t really take it that easy.

Siena and San Gimignano

My next big trip in February was on the 20^th to Siena and San Gimignano. This was business though, not pleasure. For this trip I was traveling in my official capacity as co-TA for Masterpieces. That meant, among other things, that I was in charge of lecturing to a small group of the students (Ciambella and I broke up the class according to which side of the bus they were sitting on, giving us each about 22 students) in the Cathedral and Cathedral museum and then in San Gimignano to the whole group. It was amazing.

We had some small problems when we first arrived, but they weren’t that big of a deal and the trip went pretty smoothly, aside from when we almost left one student and Ciambella in Siena because the student was late to the bus, Ciambella ran after her, and we had to go to stay on schedule. In the end, everyone was accounted for and we were off to the beautiful hill town of San Gimignano.

I lectured in front of the Collegiata, which used to be the city’s cathedral, but no more, my friends. They lost their bishop (how embarrassing) and now it’s just another church. At the end of the day we were all exhausted—I was more exhausted then I should have been and thought, “hummm….”—so we headed to a bar for a glass of Prosecco. I wondered if I should drink my, you know, just in case. I was still playing the guessing game. Mind you, I’d been playing the guessing game for 18 days by that point.

By the time we were all heading out to the bus, the day was clearly a success. The only casualties I have to report from this trip are my mp3 player, which mysteriously stopped working, and Chris’ camera, which also mysteriously stopped working. But the students were happy and the first field trip of the semester was over.

Pistoia and Prato

The Sunday following Siena, so the 22^nd, Chris and I took a quick trip to Pistoia and Prato, two cities just outside of Florence and very easy to reach by train. The trip turned out to be a bit a bust, but not a total loss. In Pistoia we found almost everything closed, which is what you get when you go to a small town in Italy on a Sunday, but we met up with Scott, one of Chris’ co-workers, who lives in Pistoia. He showed us around and turned out to be an excellent tour guide. I really enjoyed the Giovanni Pisano Pulpit in Sant’Andrea.

He was accompanied by his two little kids Isa and Samu (Samu is how the Italians shorten Samuel). They were so adorable and we were all delighted by Samu’s “penguins and dogs” comments throughout the day. (Samu is learning both English and Italian and at times they get a little jumbled. For instance, after calling everything in sight either a penguin or a dog, Samu spotted a building covered in scaffolding and proudly announced, “Penguin!” Scott laughingly said, “yes, that’s very much like a penguin except that it’s not like a penguin at all.”)

After Pistoia it was off to Prato where our main goal was food. Prato has the largest Chinese community in Italy and, since it’s only 20 minutes by train outside of Florence, it’s a popular place for real Chinese food. We didn’t run straight to the restaurant though, we were good. First we stopped into the cathedral for some art—blah blah blah—and then we ran to the food. The food did not disappoint, let me tell you. I mean, it was no Flying Tiger, but it was really, really good.

After dinner I could barely function. I was so tired I thought I wouldn’t make it. Hum… why am I so tired, I thought. We’ll just see about that.

Hum… is right!

My inner turmoil about the CGI fairy dust grew during the month. Something was a little funny, that was for sure. I knew that there was a magical test that could tell me if my suspicions were correct, but I was so afraid I was wrong that I didn’t want to take the test. What if I failed? I just don’t think I could handle that kind of rejection. (That was a Back to the Future quote for Josh.)

After consulting about 15 people—I’m not so good about keeping things to myself—I finally set a date in my mind for the day of the test. When that day came I chickened out. I was still too afraid. I’d wait one more day, I told myself. But then an amazing thing happened… on my way home from work on Thursday, February 26 I found myself walking into the Farmacia at the corner of via degli Artisti and via Pier Capponi and asking the man at the counter for a prova di gravidanza, a pregnancy test.

Gasp.

The thing, with the delightful brand name of “Lady Friend,” burned a whole in my bag the whole way home. I played little games like “if I see three babies in strollers before I get home I’ll take it… ok… two babies in strollers… ur… if I see someone with a child under 10 before I get home…” Stuff like that. When I got home Vanessa Avery and I chatted a bit until I could no longer take it. I pointed out my new Lady Friend on the dresser and she shrieked that I had to take it right away. I tried to fight her, but she’s very demanding and there I was, spending some time with Lady Friend.

Only three surprisingly short minutes later I had my answer: Si! Sono incinta! (That means “Yes! I’m pregnant!” for anyone who might be confused.) And there it was. Waiting for Chris to come home was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

And that’s the story of how I learned to listen to my body when it was trying to tell me something.

Milan, with baby.

The very next day Chris, baby, and I left to join the Leonardo class on their trip to Milano. We’d never really been to Milan, only the train station, so we were pretty psyched. We also went to Parma on the trip. It was so wonderful. I was tired, as had become my custom, but was on cloud nine the entire time.

The highlight of the trip for me was our visit to Leonardo’s Last Supper at Santa Maria delle Grazie. It was so amazing. I was really surprised at well conserved it is. It was one of those “oooh!” moments from my Italian experience. So incredible.

My second biggest highlight was the Milan cathedral. I had no idea that Italian Gothic could be so amazing! It was spectacular! The piazza was full of adorable children in costume—I have no idea why, Carnivale was long over—and there were balloons and confetti everywhere. It was so festive. My favorite part was climbing onto the roof, where baby and I had our first official picture together.

And that was the end of February.

Updatepalooza to be continued…

Ok. So I know it’s been…uh…ages since I wrote last. Like many of you already know I’ve had some computer problems. It all began back in February when my computer, Mp3 player, and Chris’ camera all died within about a week of each other. (Actually the Mp3 player and the camera broke on the same day. Weird.) Anyway, because of that I was in a bit of a pickle when it came to writing my blog. This is super unfortunate since my first four months back here in Italy provided me with lots of great material. Again, like most of the world knows by now, Chris and I are expecting a little bundle of poo sometime around the end of October. That in and of itself would have provided enough fodder to fill volumes of daily life anecdotes, but I also spent my time back here working as a teaching assistant, an experience endlessly rich in quirky stories and silly mishaps.

But alas… it just wasn’t meant to be.

Now I find myself in my new apartment (since January)—no more La Scala—with a new roommate—Ciambella remains, but we’ve added Vanessa Avery—a growing belly, a future that looks dramatically different than it did this time last year, and just under 8 weeks before I head out and leave my beautiful home away from home, Italy.

So much for a “silly little girl’s year in Italy.” Now it’s become “a year and then some, well, at least the last 8 weeks of it.” So here we go again…

Things have been a little busy the past week and a half so this is a pseudo-posting. I have some pictures though. At least that’s something. Well, here goes… (scratch that… my pictures won’t load.  I’m still pretty tired.  This is hard…)

Monday, September 8, 2008

Today I watched the sunrise over the Arno.

Saying goodbye to Carrie yesterday must have really been on my mind last night because this morning I woke up at 5:30am thinking about how sad it will be to say goodbye to everyone in my group. It’s suddenly become a reality that eventually the day will come for us all to go off to wherever we will go to. I was so sad. Thinking about that kept me up as I tried to fall back asleep. I was just starting to slip back into sleep when Chris’ alarm scared the crap out of me (not literally) at 6:45. With that I figured I should take advantage of being awake so I got up, put on my running shoes, and took off.

I went over to the Ponte Vecchio (earning myself a high five from a stranger—seriously—for “power walking,” as he said). From the Ponte Vecchio I went east to the Ponte Niccola where I crossed back to the north side and continued east down the river, back across the river and then back west to the Ponte alle Grazie and on home. I ran into Chris in the stairwell as he was leaving for I Tatti. I was hoping I would.

That was my morning. By the time I got back into the apartment Ciambella was heading out to go to school and my legs were reduced to little more than jello sticks.

After cleaning myself up I headed out to school. I found Mary, Ciambella, and Tom at the library. Ah… just like old times. All of us, stressed out, frightened, unhappy, sitting in the grad room wondering if we will be able to handle our eminent failure…

I spent my time at the library reading over the mess I wrote to turn into the symposium committee and left the library around 4 or so to go back home. I ran into Clark on Borgo Pinti, not far from the sketchy alley. He was in true Clarker form. He looked like he was on his way to the beach or something, strolling along and eating a giant cone of gelato. If only I could tap into that happy-go-lucky nature of his. My blood pressure would drop through the floor for sure.

Once back home I thought about working on my presentation for next Monday (sheesh!), but opted instead to watch the rest of Ritorno dello Jedi (pronounced “yeh-dee”). Let me tell you, it was waaaay more fun than symposium research. By the time Chris got home I was back on track and slaving over my hot laptop while Chris slaved over the hot stove in the kitchen. He made a delicious risotto dinner and served it right to my computer. Poor guy. I think he might be bored out of his mind when Ciambella and I go into school mode. We don’t talk; we don’t listen to music; we don’t watch TV… we just sit and stare at the blank screens, dreaming of December 12^th and wishing we were in Malta. Meanwhile Chris sits on the couch and dozes off in the oppressive heat.

So there it is. I’ve worked on my symposium presentation text for too long (it’s now just after 11pm) without making any real headway. Time for bed. The apartment is dark and my shoulders are throbbing. Tangeman out.

Tuesday, September 10, 2008

I know this may come as a surprise, but I didn’t go jogging today (or is “yogging?”). I didn’t sleep in either so I’m not a total slacker. I have way too much to do to be a slacker for a while. I have to write up the most brilliant presentation ever conceived, put together the most brilliant powerpoint to accompany it, and manage to go to Carrara on Friday. Whew!

So I got up, got ready, skipped breakfast (sorry Mom), and moved as quickly as I could to the bus stop by the Duomo in an effort to catch the 9:09 bus. Something was wrong with my right knee though. It seems that my little jaunt out onto the mean streets of Florence wreaked havoc on my poor, fragile knee. It was not cool. I even wondered if I would be able to walk to the bus stop. Fortunately, the 76 steps proved to be the worst of it and I managed, hobbling the whole way, to get to my destination, but not in time for the 9:09, I’m sad to say.

So there I was, off on the 9:29 for my day at I Tatti.

I had a rough start (Internet issues… long, boring story), but by about 11am I was settled—not in my usual seat—and reading the Corpus Hermeticum. I’ll skip over all the boring research stuff… Ok… So then it was lunch time with Dan in the granaio. It was nice to be able to sit and chat with him for a while. I feel like I haven’t seen him for so long. I’ve almost completely lost touch with reality at this point. I drank tons of espresso and before long we were back once again at our desks learning and trying to be smart.

Chris took off around 5 to go get a haircut. That’s right. Everyone should be very impressed. Chris left by himself to go to an Italian barber by himself, armed only with a cute smile and an old photo of himself with short hair. I think he deserves a round of applause.

I stayed until 6, when the library closed and Dan and I couldn’t take anymore learning. We trudged out the bus and ended up waiting, like always. Gian Mario, one of the librarians who works with Chris, caught the same bus we did so that was nice.

I was pooped by the time I got home. Chris showed up not long after me with a bag of ka-toms—yeah! I ate, loved it, then went downstairs to take a nap. You know, sometimes you gotta just rock out as many useless calories as you can, that’s what I always say. I slept for an hour and probably would have slept for 10 more had Chris not woken me up. Though I can’t explain how I managed, I got up, went upstairs and went back to work on my symposium stuff.

We had a surprise visitor tonight: Little Cat. What could have possessed that little you-know-what to think that she could just waltz back into our lives after disappearing for a month to go and flaunt her freedom across the rooftops with Jon Robie the Cat, is beyond me. Well, it, of course, doesn’t matter because as soon as she showed up we were just as ga-ga over her as we were before. After being chased around the apartment, Little Cat quickly remembered why she didn’t swing by here anymore and left again. And just like that my little friend disappeared once more into the night.

Now it’s almost 12:30am and I’m still sitting here. I can no longer think of simple English words so I think that means I need to go to bed. Tomorrow will be another long day and it will be here much sooner than I’d like, I fear. So, goodnight cyberspace people. A domani.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Basically today I was at I Tatti. I was tired all day, but somehow managed to get a lot of work done. Ugh, that’s it. I gotta go to bed.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Another day at I Tatti. I’m not as tired as yesterday, but this is going to be another short one.

Dan and I rode the bus together and we both marveled at the beauty of the Tuscan hillside on our trip up the hill. I took some pictures, but they don’t do it justice at all. I stayed up there until 6 and Chris and I took the bus back into town together. I love seeing him in Italy. He’s so cute. He looks so comfortable on the bus now. So adorable.

Anyway, we got back home, ate dinner, and I got back to work on my symposium stuff. After reading part of my presentation text for Ciambella I decided that it would be better if I stayed home tomorrow instead of going to Carrara. A tough decision, but I think the wise decision.

So with that, I know this is short, but these are hectic. I need to go to bed. Good night.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Chris went to Carrara this morning (I’m so jealous), Ciambella went to I Tatti, and I went to the living room to work. Good news: after 8 ½ hours of solid work, I managed to almost finish my presentation text and my powerpoint. I guess I can’t get too mad about not going to Carrara. I guess I got a lot of work done and that’s what my number one priority is right now.

Ciambella came home around 6:30 and we left to pick up Mary at around 7:15. Today is Mary’s birthday so the group was getting together out at this little place across the river called Porta Fuori (a little enoteca that means “Outside Door” because it is right outside the old city wall). We had dinner with Dan, Tom, Ciambella, and Mary, with Chris and Clark showing up later after their day at Carrara (I think you will have to see Chris’ blog for info on that trip).

After dinner it was off to Neri for gelato, then to Santa Croce where Tom, Dan, Chris and I watched the rain from the security of the main door.

Sorry so short again. I’ve been super short on time lately!

Saturday, September 13, 2008

This morning I hopped out of bed, went straight to my spot in the living room and wrote the conclusion to my presentation. Whew! Then I worked on my powerpoint, made an omelet for Chris and I, and went to Mary’s around 12:30 to finish my Powerpoint. Whew! Tom was there too working his way through his own presentation stuff. I worked on my powerpoint all day, had a ka-tom lunch around 3, got home around 7ish, was totally exhausted, and watched Indiana Jones. That, my friends, was my day in a hurry. I gotta get to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

I woke up this morning at 7:45, feeling pretty awake, but a little groggy. I immediately sat down at the computer to read my presentation text. It wasn’t that great and it needs a lot of work, but I think it’s going to have to do. At this point there isn’t much I can do about it, you know. My presentation is tomorrow and time is a tickin’.

I went up to school today for a while, to take advantage of the Internet and try to tidying things up. I also had to print my presentation text up. My pre-presentation jitters were starting to take hold today, which is no good. I took off before too long and went back home for some more practice and a couple more run throughs.

Now it’s about 9:30 and I think I’ll read over the presentation one more time before going to bed. Ugh. This will be over soon.

Monday, September 15, 2008—Doomsday

Today is the day of my first symposium presentation since my summer break. My heart is pounding. My hands are shaking. I am soooooo jittery. Ok. It’s going to be okay. Breathe. Breathe.

Later…

Alright. So here’s what happened.

I went up to school and got there around 11:30 giving me 3 hours to make corrections, add a couple slides and practice a few more times. Once I got to the point where I felt that there was nothing else I could do (not meaning that I was done, but that it was too late to make any changes), I went out and ate my lunch in the garden with Vanessa Avery, Sean, Luke, Ciambella, and later, the Captain.

So my presentation went okay. I was hoping that it would be better, but I guess I can’t really complain. I have no idea how I’m going to take the 45 minutes from today and squeeze it into 20 minutes for next month. I don’t really feel like going into a lot of detail about since I’m exhausted. It’s been a really long couple of weeks and I don’t have any words left in my brain. It went well. I just have a lot more work to do to condense my research. Ugh. I can’t even think about that right now.

I had a nice night tonight after the presentation. We all went to a little bar in the Piazza Sant Ambrosio. It was freezing out tonight. It seems to have skipped fall and gone straight into winter. It was awful. That was where we all ate dinner… sort of. We had apertivi there, meaning little bites to eat like rice with pancetta, tomato, and basil, and veggies, and bread with marinara, and cucumber salad. Bars in Italy have way better food then bars in the US.

We moved on from there to Santa Croce for a little bit before Dan, Lara, and I walked Steph over to the train station so she could pick up her friends. I got back pretty late, and I’m sorry that I’ve been so boring lately but I am pretty tired.

Ok. So that’s (sort of) it. I’m going to go sleep for about 3 years.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Last night I was up most of the night thinking about my presentation. I had a dream that Tom told me I mislabeled one of my slides. It was the first thing I checked this morning when I woke up. So even though I had planned on doing nothing today, I worked on my powerpoint for my October 6^th meeting, and started throwing around some ideas for how I’m going to organize my next presentation. I even read about the life of St. Francis and the schism between the Conventuals and the Spirituals in the early 14^th century. Uh… not exactly not working.

I also watched Il Santo so that was something at least.

Around 6 I had a gelato with Mary and Chris and I went to the grocery store. I made heart attack in a bowl for dinner and then went off to Casa LSD to watch Return to Me with Steph and Lara in celebration of our long symposium presentations being over.

Since I’m not functioning on my whole brain yet, that’s all I’m going to add for today. I guess it’s back to work tomorrow. Night, everybody!

Monday, September 1, 2008

Today is the beginning of my fall—and final—semester of my Masters degree. Well, not official first day, but it’s the first day in my mind so that’s official enough. I can’t say that it started out great. I think I slept about 4 ½ minutes last night (rough estimate) so when I woke up this morning I felt like a groggy-monster (they live in swamps). It didn’t matter, though, because today I had to get my learn on. So as I struggled to simultaneously make myself presentable for the world (sadly I failed miserably) and stuff my backpack full of my notebook, notes, loose papers and laptop I remembered the words of Oscar Wilde:

“There is no doubt that Genius last longer than Beauty. That accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves.”

Uh-huh.

Ciambella left for school and I left for the bus stop over by the Duomo. We planned to meet up on the 9:09 number 10 bus to I Tatti and our plan work flawlessly. Finally! We were off to I Tatti for a day of studying and learning and gesture discovery! The air even felt like school this morning. I’d go so far as to say that it seems like the tourists are gone. Of course, they’re not, but when you are seeing the world through rose-colored glasses it’s easy to convince yourself of such things.

We arrived, panting and sweating (oh yeah, there’s a big hill to climb at I Tatti), at about a quarter to 10. I think the guards thought we were nuts. They have no idea. We prided ourselves on being the first grads to arrive on our first day back. (As it turns out we are even more impressive than that—we were the only grads to arrive on our first day back.)

I found my old, familiar seat in the New Library and got serious. Today I delved into the not-so-wonderful world of Latin. Oh, I’m sure it’s great for those of you who can read Latin, but for those of us who can’t it’s not so fun. As I turned page after page of old treatise and traveled to strange and exciting corners of my imagination, all these old feelings came rushing back: that knot in my left shoulder, that dull pounding in my right temple, that throbbing ache in the small of my back. Yup, it’s research time again. I found a lot of promising (I hope!) primary sources for my research. That is, of course, assuming that my feeble attempts at deciphering Latin in 16^th century script are adequate.

Ciambella and I had our lunch together in the granaio, just like old times. And just like old times, I missed when I threw my wadded up aluminum foil ball at the trash can. So sad… watching those WNBA hopes just pass before my eyes and fly into the hallway and bounce off the walls approximately 14 ft from the trash can (I was always better at defense. Remember? “Get off me!!!”). Hopefully this art history thing will pay off in the end.

After lunch it was back to the New Library and back to my dreadful Latin. I did the best I could, but only time will tell how productive today will ultimately be. I find that when it comes to research sometimes even days spent “wasted” are never actually wasted.

We left I Tatti at 6 with Chris in tow. In case you were keeping track you’re right, over 8 hours at the library today—we totally win. Chris, Ciambella and I virtually ran to the bus stop. Chris has calculated that it takes 11 minutes at a casual stroll to reach the stop from I Tatti. We had 9 minutes. I felt like when you’re on a bike and it’s in first gear and you peddle and peddle and peddle, but never actually go anywhere. Fortunately for us we are Olympic-quality speed walkers and the bus was a little late. Speaking of speed-walkers, I think they are so wonderfully bizarre and I saw 2—yes, 2—on the way home today. Oh, happy day! They’re so goofy.

But I digress.

Once home I did the dishes, Ciambella made her dinner, and Chris watched. Before you get mad at him I should say that he was in charge of dinner tonight, but it is humanly impossible for three people, especially when one of them is gigantic (Ciambella… just kidding), to fit in that part of our kitchen at once so he had to wait his turn. Once his turn arrived he made ramen noodles with egg (Ciambella’s idea—yum!). It was pretty good. I was clever enough to make some all-beige bread product before my stomach had time to tell me it was full and it was delicious too. (I also managed to squeeze in a bowl of ice cream and candy sprinkles before the night was over.)

We all settled in for some gin (Ciambella and I, off the record), computer time (Chris), and Sognando Beckham (called Bend It Like Beckham to those of you in the States). Oh! I forgot! The roomies of La Scala made a pit-stop on the way home and picked up 3 more VHS tapes to add to our totally awesome VHS collection. Sognando Beckham you know, but we also got Il Santo (The Saint), and the most exciting, Indiana Jones e I Predatori dell’Arca Perduta (sa-weeeet!). That will be a red-letter day when we get to watch that masterpiece!

So now it’s a quarter ‘til 11 and I need to get to bed. I’m running on not enough sleep and I have a date with a bunch of screaming undergrads in the morning. Ugh. We’ll see how that goes. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.

Alrighty. For now, goodnight, sleep tight, and dream of British soccer stars.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

I think I may have worked too hard yesterday. Last night I dreamt that I was presenting my ideas to the group and Sean was there and out of nowhere he said, “Signum Harpocraticum! Silentium! I see! It’s the same thing!” And I was scared and confused. Then he said, “imponere et silentum digito” or something like that and I freaked because I couldn’t understand the Latin. I’m serious. This is not a good sign!

So when I awoke this morning shivering and stressed I must admit that I didn’t have the most optimistic outlook for my day. I couldn’t dilly-dally too long though because this morning I was giving a couple tours to the new batch of kiddies. So, despite my poor Latin skills, I got up and got ready, tried to eat breakfast but wasn’t interested, drank an excessively large bucket of espresso, and headed east down the river to the Hotel Mediterreano where I was to retrieve the undies (don’t forget! Undies=undergrads).

My walking tour with the undies wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. There was a lot more sitting around doing nothing at the hotel waiting for the tour to begin than anything else. That, let me tell you, was maddening. When you have scary symposium deadlines rushing up on you the last thing you are comfortable doing is sitting around twiddling your thumbs. I did one tour that was schedule to start at 11, but didn’t actually start until 11:30, got back to the hotel around 1, sat and waited. And waited and waited and waited. I did get a free ka-tom courtesy of Syracuse University, which was nice. Plus Carrie was at the hotel, back from the US and helping with Orientation so that was nice too.

At about 2:30 I finally asked if there would be another tour anytime soon (honestly I was expecting to be home by 2:30). The plan was that I would lead one more tour (probably wouldn’t happen for another hour or so) and then I’d be done. Then, like white knights, Sean and Luke showed up ready to help and I was off the hook. I was released to go back to the apartment and spend the rest of my day working, or should I say, trying desperately to type up something, anything, that sounded even remotely intelligent that I could turn into the symposium committee on Monday. So not what I expected and less money than I anticipated earning, but fine regardless.

I spent my time at home wisely, you’d be happy to know. I got a little written—only about a page and a half, but that’s a page and a half more than I had before. Ciambella got home around 5 or 6 and she settled in for some work at the kitchen table. Then La Scala’s buzzer became the coolest thing in Florence to ring. The buzzer rang once—it was Sean—the buzzer rang again—it was Dan (quick visit, picked up stuff, left a tour of undergrads at the gelateria down the street)—the buzzer rang again—it was our landlady to fix the washing machine—the buzzer rang a fourth time—it was Mary (back from America, moving into Casa di Festa with Vanessa Avery). It was all very exciting, but pretty much put an end to my productivity.

Since Anna, our landlady, and her boyfriend, Alberto, the guy whose apartment we are living in, were here working on the washing machine, Chris and I met Mary downstairs at our door and helped her with her bags over to her new apartment at Casa di Festa, just a few short blocks away. It was clear that she was thrilled to be back in Florence. It’s so strange, it seems so long ago that we all said goodbye to her over in the Piazza Ognissanti, but not that long ago at the same time. Weird.

When we got to the apartment, we found some things that Carrie had brought back for us from the States: a jar of HOT salsa (for me) and a bag of double-stuffed Oreos (for Ciambella). This is why we love Carrie. She knows how to treat a girl… or two. After dropping Mary off Chris and I took the long way back to the apartment so that we could gawk at the beautiful city we live in. The light was magnificent today and the temperatures had cooled to my ideal temperature, probably around 80 or so with a light breeze. It was so amazing out. We weren’t gone long at all though.

By the time we got back to the apartment Anna and Alberto had discovered that Ciambella and I are big dumb idiots who have a tendency to switch off these mysterious power button (not circuit breakers, smart alack! Other power buttons!). This happened once before, in the bathroom a few months ago. We couldn’t figure out why the lights wouldn’t turn on in there and it turned out that there is a little green button that controls all the power and had been switched off somehow. Well, it seems that there is a magic power button in the kitchen too. We’ve been wondering what that button was for… Oh, well. So we looked kind of dumb…again. At least the washer’s back.

I made a huge vat of scrambled eggs and pancetta, uh, covered in hot salsa, for dinner tonight. Now my jar of salsa is almost gone. Poo! I’ve only had it for about an hour. It was delicious. Mary came over, since she lives so close now, and Mary, Ciambella and I spent some time talking about our research, jobs, art history, museums, and more stuff along those lines. It was at some point during that conversation that Ciambella fell in love with Disaronno. I don’t blame her, the stuff’s delicious. To make a long story less long, she got weird on Disaronno, I got optimistic about my research (who knows why), Chris conquered the world of computer games, Mary conquered jet lag, Sean came over, and none of us went out tonight like we thought we would.

So that’s about how things ended. I’m not really that tired, but I have a lot to do tomorrow so I should make an effort to fall asleep. Goodnight to you.

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Today I woke up in a little green adventure. I woke up wrapped in our green sheet that was pulled up over my head which was buried under my pillow. When I opened my eyes all I saw was green like when surfers are in the “green room,” that’s what they call it when they are inside a wave that’s curved over the top of them and there is nothing but water around them. I was kind of confused as to how I managed to do that to myself, but enjoyed my little green cocoon nonetheless.

Ciambella made the lattes this morning and she and I sat at the kitchen table with the morning light streaming in. I started a load of laundry with our newly-working washing machine and she headed off to school. We are both working today at 2 so while she’s going to be working on her symposium at school this morning, I opted to stay at home and work on my stuff here.

When I got to school I found the garden full of undergrads and food. I dropped off my junk and found my people tucked into the corner of the garden, pigging out and checking out the new batch of sottos (Refresher: sotto means under, therefore, sottos refers to undergrads). Dan aided me in cutting in line, one of the perks of working Orientation, and I ate my lunch in the very bright, and very hot, sunshine with Carrie, Vanessa Avery (just back from Greece—so jealous), Sean, Luke, Ciambella, Clark, Mary, Dan, and Paola. I stayed out there until the time came for me to get to work.

Vanessa Avery and Ciambella were working together in the Library doing the same job that Paola and I were doing in the Annex: handing out museum passes and key cards. Not a very sexy job, but it was nice to see all the new students and get a chance to talk to them. Hopefully they will feel comfortable approaching us over the course of the semester if they have any questions. I’m so surprised at how much I like them already. I really want them to have a great semester and love living in Florence. Huh, maybe I get a little too attached to ever be a teacher. I think that would be hard to see them come and go so often. Huh. Ci vediamo.

Paola left around 4:15 to go to a class so for the last 45 minutes of my time I looked over my notes, stopping to help the occasionally student with their passes and keys. The time went quickly and when 5 o’clock hit I dropped off the deposit money (I figured running away with deposit money to Malta or Madagascar or something was probably not a good idea) and went to the library thinking that I would get some work done. That, I’m sad to say, was not in the cards. Not long after I got online in the grad room I got word that everyone was hitting up the Mediterraneo, where the undergrads were staying, for some free buffet dinner. So I called Chris, told him to meet me at home, and walked back to the city center with Carrie.

Ok. So not much work done, but what can you do?

I met Chris at the front door and after dropping off our stuff we walked over to Casa di Festa to retrieve Mary and Carrie. The four of us walked down the Arno to the Mediterraneo, found the food, and got down to business. And then Steph arrived. And then Vanessa Avery, Sean, and Ciambella showed up. And then Paola showed up. And one by one they all arrived. The food was great and free, which made it taste even better. (Total free meals for today: 2)

Despite efforts by the real adults to get us to mingle with the undergrads, we all stayed put through dessert and sat around talking until only a few straggling undergrads remained. After dinner we hopped (not literally) across the river on the Ponte Niccolo to the J. Joyce pub for a beer and more chit-chat. Though we all had a great time we weren’t the liveliest group. Most of us were yawning almost continuously and the rest of us spent a considerable amount of time staring off into space. After a short visit we called an end to the outing and said our goodbyes. With the exception of Clark, we were all working in the morning and it was clearly past our collective bed time.

On the way back home I took some pics of the Ponte Vecchio. Yes, yes, I know. Poor me. I live in Florence and I have to look at these stupid old bridges all the time.

So, no work done, but plenty of fun had. I guess that will be of some consolation when Monday rolls around and I haven’t finished my paper. Ew, that’s an awful thought. Sorry I mentioned it. Ok. Better get off to bed. Goodnight, y’all.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

I got up unhappily at 7:30 this morning and got ready with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. I made myself a mediocre egg sandwich and downed my espresso before grabbing my bag and heading off for my second day of handing out passes and keys with Paola. After spending 3 hours yesterday preaching to the undergrads the importance of not losing their keys, I was saddened to realize that I had forgotten mine this morning. Oh well, they don’t need to know that.

On my way to school I was happy to see a Speedy Florence car. Do you remember when I told you about my last Speedy Florence experience? Chris and I were walking to school and we say this guy run by with a package in his hands and looked to see where he was running from… lo and behold, he works for Speedy Florence. It was so funny. Sadly, I didn’t see anyone running frantically with a package today, but I snapped a shot of his car any way. Come to think of it, maybe he ran by me and I just couldn’t see him because he was running so fast… Hum.

When I got to school I set myself up in the Annex and the students started filing in one by one, like good little sheep. I really enjoyed talking to Paola and the time flew by even faster today than it did yesterday. I was occasionally sending students with names beginning M-Z (I was helping the A-Ls) over to Vanessa Avery and Ciambella in the Library with a bevy of trash talking. They were instructed to tell them that the Annex was waaaay more fun and that the girls in the Annex were awesome and not slackers like the girls in the Library. One student returned from Ciambella with a rather surprising gesture message from Ciambella that made me laugh so hard I almost fell out of my chair.

When 1 o’clock hit Paola and I packed up the goods and went to lunch. I had pasta with mozzarella, tomato, and basil, ridiculously amazing grilled veggies, and pecorino cheese courtesy Syracuse University Florence. I ate in the grad room while I checked my email. Today I had a date with work. I did get to see the Captain for a second, which was nice. I haven’t seen him for a while. He brought some peaches for Ciambella and told her that one of them was for me. This simple comment has brought on Peachgate 2008. There is now a rift at La Scala that could only be mended by more peaches from the Captain. Updates to follow. (Please send all comments about stingy peach eaters to Ciambella at dontbeastingypeacheater.com. Hee hee.)

After eating I rushed home and got to work. I’ve already informed Chris that I am not making dinner or conversation today so that he needs to entertain himself. (Maybe I’ll send him to the grocery store. He’ll love that.) I have a lot of work to catch up on and it’s going to be a busy few days.

I spent the rest of the evening trying work on my symposium stuff, but I’m not feeling all that confident about it. Now it’s not very late, but tomorrow morning is Tom’s prova with the Captain and I would like to have my wits about me so I better go to bed. Hope you all had a great Thursday and I’ll write again tomorrow.

Friday, September 5, 2008

This morning Ciambella, Chris, and I got up and got ready. We were joined by Sean and the three of us walked over to the Piazza della Signoria at just before 9 for Tom’s prova. Since we were the first ones there Ciambella and I had some time to run over to one of the souvenir stands in the piazza to pick up Carrie’s “goodbye and thank you” present. We bought a Florentine flag. Our next step was to get everyone to sign it. We’ll see how that goes.

Before long the rest of the gang showed up, along with Luke and the Captain. It was just like old times. Tom’s prova went well, even if he is too hard on himself. Well, now Chris has witnessed a prova first hand. From now on, if anyone has any questions about how provas work you can ask Chris. He’s a pro.

After the prova we all went to get some coffee. Along the way I introduced Chris to the Captain. He was impressed to know that Chris was working over at I Tatti, so I think they will be old friends now. We all had our coffees—that’s what I said! We ALL had our coffees. That means, my friends, that my husband, Mr. Coffee Hater, drank a cappuccino (after 10, how embarrassing). Before too long he’ll be getting the shakes if he misses his morning cup of Joe. First step, cappuccino, next step tight pink pants and big sunglasses. He’s so Italian already.

Anyway, we all had our coffee and then we dispersed: Ciambella, Chris and I back to La Scala to grab our stuff for school, Tom off to start working on his symposium stuff now that his prova is over, Lara, Steph, Dan, Luke, and the Captain off to school (Sean was already there), and Clarker off to wherever it is that Clarker goes. The three La Scala kids picked up our stuff and went off to school ourselves. We were all looking forward to our free lunch in the garden with the undergrads today, but were horribly disappointed when we realized that our meal ticket had expired. Poo. Guess the undies have been here long enough that the school feels confident that they can find their own food.

So no food, but no worries. Ciambella, Lara, Dan, Chris and I went over to Savini, a little bakery by school, and picked up some amazing (and cheap) pizzas. It was swelteringly hot out today and super humid so we wrestled over the decision of where to eat. We chose to set a good example so we took our food into the library and set up shop in the studiolo, careful to not let the “No food or drink” signs get in our way. It was a nice lunch, with the exception of these really horrible potato crap balls that Chris got. Ugh. They were so gross. I don’t recommend those. What I do recommend is the massive chocolate pastry puff the size of my head that ate as my afternoon snack. I put my phone next to it to give you some idea of scale, but I realize that you don’t actually know how big my phone is. Trust me. That pastry was impressive.

When two o’clock rolled around I went over to the Annex and set up my desk for my last day of Orientation week. Paola was running a little late so I spent most of my time reading an article about Evangelist portraits in the Mount Athos Gospel Book. I know what you must be thinking… “Wow! That sounds like fun! Can I have the citation for the portrait article???” Well, sure. If anyone is dying to read all about this stuff I’m researching just let me know.

Anyway, Paola did show up, but she was totally exhausted from her busy week (she’s a work horse) so she spent most of the time napping on the couch in the Annex. Students would come in for their key cards and museum passes and Paola would wave and say, “I’m napping, she’s working” and drift off back to sleep. While I read and listened to Paola snore (just kidding, she doesn’t snore) Chris took my laptop over to the tech guys at the school and got my Internet fixed. Hurrah!

At 5 my shift was over and the school was closing. I sat in the grad room with Chris and tried to get some work done. I was stressing pretty badly over stuff other than school so my mind was everywhere but where it needed to be. I couldn’t seem to get anything done. Then, just after I had given up and Chris and I were heading out to go home, Carrie showed up and forced us to join her and the others in the Piazza for mojitos. As a general rule, it is never wise to pass up an offer for free mojitos.

Carrie, Chris and I met up with Ciambella, Sean, Luke, Vanessa Avery and Tom (celebrating his survival of the prova) in the Piazza Savonarola. We all chatted while we slowly (very important) drank our mojitos. After we finished them we decided to go to Casa di Sizzle, where Carrie treated the whole group to snacks and beer. She wasn’t supposed to do that, but she’s sneaky.

So, after a very long day it’s now over. Tomorrow we’ll see what’s in store next.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

This morning there was no messing around at La Scala. Ciambella and I had a lot of work to do and we were determined to get it done. We both woke up early and stationed ourselves at our desk, she in the kitchen while I sat at the desk in the living room, and prepared for a long day of work. My goal for the day was to finish up by 6pm so that Chris and I could go watch the OSU game. For that to happen, a miracle needed to take place… which it did.

The miracle is that I realized how stupid I’d been. (That reminds me of the part in Without a Clue when Watson is talking to Leslie about Sherlock Holmes and he says something like, “then he realized just how stupid he’d been!” and Sherlock Holmes says, “well, I didn’t exactly say that” and Watson says, “yes, yes you did!” as he shoos him out of the room.) So, you see we have this little assignment that’s due on Monday, more of a hurdle than anything else, but it’s still stressful, you know? Well, we have a 3-page, 750-1000 word, description of our symposium topic (piece of cake, right?) and a 10-page, 7500 word, bibliographic essay. Ok. That’s what I thought anyway. For anyone who is actually paying attention, you may have thought that 10-page, 7500 word paper seems a little fishy… And you’d be right. So it was a 10-page, 2500 word paper. Ahhh… So basically I was writing and writing and writing and didn’t even realize that I had pretty much already finished it. Ta da! Just as Ben Franklin once said, “Sometimes realizing that you’re an idiot is a good thing.” Maybe he didn’t say that, I’m not sure.

So in the end I finished up my bibliographic essay in time for Chris and I to head off to Casa di Sizzle—sort of embarrassing since we were just there last night—to watch the OSU/Ohio game. Though Ohio State’s performance was horrendous (best to see Josh’s blog for that description, I’m sure it will be better), we had a nice time and made friends with a guy name Nick from C-Bus OH. He’s living in Florence right now, here on business. We exchanged numbers with him after the game was over so we’ll just have to see if Nick becomes a regular character on my blog.

After the game it was back to La Scala where we found Tom. Tom lives in a cave. Not literally, but almost literally. He has a damp, dirty, cramped basement apartment below street level and it’s starting to take its toll on his respiratory system so Ciambella and I have offered La Scala to him anytime he needs to breathe. We talked a bit about gesture, like we do, and the program, like we do, and our future plans, like we do. As interesting as I think we all are, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if someone off the street would find us to be hopelessly boring.

Tom eventually said goodnight (back to the cave) and Ciambella, Chris and I deliberated over what our plan of action would be. Though Retorno dello Jedi was tempting, it was 11:30 and a little late for a movie. Fortunately the boob-tube gods were smiling down on us. Speaking of boobs, have I mentioned lately that Italian TV is seriously whack? Well, it is. For this next segment of my blog I wish to advise my readers that this is a PG-13 rated blog post. Here’s why…

We found in the wonderful world of Italian TV a show called “Ciao Darwin.” So basically it was like a Victoria Secret runway show except the girls were skankier and there were a bunch of slobbering men in the audience. There was no attempt to make it classy.It was clearly on television so that guys at home could slobber at almost naked girls just like the guys in the audience. And then The Knack came on and sang. That was random. Anyway, I have some photos. Please remember that these are the least offensive photos I could post. Just keep that in mind. Oh, wait! I almost forgot! At one point these two dudes came out and walked up and down the catwalk in their undies making all the men in the audience noticeably uncomfortable.One of the guys looked like silent movie star. I expected him to start sword fighting or something. Oh, and one of the guys was wearing a thong. He was the only person more uncomfortable then the guys in the audience.

So that smut is how we ended our day. I think Ciambella and I enjoyed it more than Chris if you can imagine that. We were laughing so hard my stomach hurt. It was so ridiculous and so perfectly Italian.

Now, it’s really, really late and I’m off to dream of male thongs and women with too-much collagen in their lips. Wow. That show was so funny. I really wish you all could have been there…

Sunday, September 7, 2008

For reasons we didn’t really understand, Ciambella, Chris and I all woke up early this morning. I guess Chris usually gets up early and Ciambella and I are a little stressed about our assignment due tomorrow so maybe that’s why. Whatever the reason, we were all up by 8:30. (That’s early around these parts.)

Like yesterday, Ciambella set up shop at the kitchen table and I took my place in the living room. We both got to work without delay and Chris, who has given up on his hopelessly unfulfilling book about Italian history, sat down on the couch with one of my favorite books, The Picture of Dorian Gray. That, I’m sad to say, is how the day was spent.

I’m not sad to say that I have now finished both my bibliographic essay and my topic description. That is good news, let me tell you. That way tomorrow I only have to print it all up, proof read it, and turn it in. Now I can start focusing on my 45-minute presentation that I have next Monday. That is the really important thing I’ve got going on right now, but I’m going to try not to think of it right now. I’m going to try to relish the moment of finishing my work ahead of schedule.

Today is Carries’ last day here in Florence. I told you the other day how we bought her a flag, right? Well, we have managed to get all kinds of people to sign it and we are so excited about giving it to her. It’s not enough, of course, but it’s at least something to show her how much she’s meant to so many people and how much she’s helped out the grads. Otherwise, I think we would have been eaten alive. We’ll be giving it to her tonight at her goodbye dinner up in the hills overlooking Florence. More on that to come…

Later…

Before going to dinner I vegged on the couch for about 45 minutes. I figured I deserved it for finishing my work and the throbbing pain in my left shoulder told me to take a break. I put Ritorno dello Jedi on. Wow. Talk about a good idea. I only wish that I could do that movie in Italian any justice. Unfortunately for all of you my vocabulary is grossly inadequate for such a task. Oh, it was great. I only watched about 40 minutes or so before Tom rang our buzzer down on the street and it was time to go to dinner.

Ok. So we didn’t go to the restaurant overlooking the city, we went to a great restaurant right around the corner from our apartment called La Colonnine. It’s right on Via dei Benci and it has lots of outdoor seating, which was nice. It turned out to be Carrie, of course, she’s the guest of honor, Vanessa Avery, Paola, Sean, Luke, Ciambella, Tom, Clark, Clark’s friend, Chris and me. Mary stopped by later after happening upon us on her way home from her night out. It was a wonderful night and Carrie loved her Florence flag. There were tears. Most of you who know me already know that one of my main objectives in gift giving is to make someone cry happy tears. So… mission accomplished.

It was hard to say goodbye to someone so special. And so in honor of Carrie here’s my little spiel about her: There aren’t very many people in the world who really make a difference in other people’s lives and for those of us who are blessed to know people like that it is truly something special. She is the type of person who makes a difference without even realizing it. She has provided us all with an example of how to be strong, sensitive, thoughtful, dedicated, fun-loving, selfless, and inspirational. I wish her all the best for her future and I must admit that I’m more than a little jealous of all those who will have the great pleasure of knowing her in the years to come. So, Carrie, if you see this, thank you so much for all that you’ve done. You will be missed by us all more than you may ever know. Mi manchero. (P.S. For anyone who speaks Italian, yes, I know what that means, but trust me, it’s an inside joke.)

Goodnight everyone. Big hugs and love from Florence…

On a side note…

There is a hair salon at the end of my street, Via dei Neri, that has a gorgeous ad in the window. I think they put it there just for me. Every time I walk by I think, “Ah-ha! There’s my gesture!” So I finally took a picture of it. In case any of you were wondering what it is that I’m doing my super scholarly (har har) thesis research on, here it is: the silence gesture. Of course, 21^st century hair salon ads aren’t exactly what I’m studying, but in the words of Robert Goulet via Will Ferrell “you get the picture.”

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

This morning, like yesterday, I was awoken by the sun shining in through the window and bouncing off the yellow building next door. Not such a shabby way to wake up, I guess.  (Please note:  That is a picture out my bedroom window at 7am.  Look at the sky!  It was sooo blue this morning!)

Chris was off to I Tatti and Ciambella and Sean went off into the unknown (we were invited to spend some time with the Captain out at his beach rental, but only Ciambella and Sean were able to accept the invitation—the experience will undoubtedly prove to be endlessly rewarding and unspeakably awkward at the same time). So with the apartment empty I got ready and, skipping breakfast, headed out myself to a little café around the corner called Moyo. I ordered my cappuccino and selected my delicious apple-filled pastry and got set up for my main objective: “free” wireless Internet. It had been a while since I was online last so it took me a while to get through my 78 emails, check my school account, post my blog and catch on the world I’d been missing for the past week.

I left Moyo around noon and went back to the apartment for a delicious Freedom toast lunch and yet another coffee. From there the fun came to a halting stop as I got serious and spent the next million hours (rough estimate) reading over symposium notes and starting my next horrible task for the symposium committee. I can’t say that I got a lot done, but I suppose that anytime thinking about my topic is time well spent… at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

So that was pretty much it. Chris got home around 6, come sempre, and we had a quiet evening in. I made penne with an amatriciana (spicy pancetta red sauce) sauce for dinner. Nothing eventful happened. In fact, Chris even called it an early night at around 10:30 leaving me to watch Far and Away in Italian on TV. Well, there it is.

Thursday, August 21, 2008—Happy Birthday Rebekah!

This morning was much like every morning except that when I woke up around 7:30, confused and sleep, I got up and sat with Chris while he was eating his breakfast. He was watching diving on TV and even though I was nowhere near being awake enough to join the land of the living I sat out there and bothered him until he needed to leave for I Tatti.

After he left my day followed much of the same pattern that it did yesterday except with more procrastination and without me ever venturing out into the world. I sort of work on my symposium research, I broke two coffee mugs, I talked to my grandma on the phone for a while, I did some laundry, I randomly found some Internet for about a half an hour… that was pretty much it. I must admit that at about 5pm I was so racked with boredom that I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. All I could think about was gelato. That is not a good sign as these things go.

When Chris got home things really didn’t perk up that much. You know, we ate dinner (risotto blahness) and later we watched Pirates of the Caribbean. That was pretty much it.

Friday, August 22, 2008—Assisi! And Mac’s Birthday!!

In honor of my beautiful niece, Mac’s, first birthday, Chris and I decided to take a little trip to that beautiful city, Assisi. I made egg omelet sandwiches on brioche bread, some iced coffee (for me), some lunch, and grabbed some fruit. We were out the door right on time by 7:40 in order to catch our 8:09 train. Everything went fairly smoothly on the train with the exception of all the lights going out in our car as we were passing through tunnel after tunnel in complete darkness. I didn’t care for that, but, you know, what can you do? We moved to another car, the lights stayed on, and before we knew it we were pulling into the station at Assisi.

The bus to the city was waiting for us when we arrived and so we, along with 30 of our closest friends, squeezed onto the bus and took the 10 minute trip up the hill to the city. The weather was beautiful. It was a little warm, but the sky was so bright and blue and cloudless. The scenery looked so different from the last time I was here. The mountains were no longer snow-capped and the fields in the valley had lost their luscious green from the spring. That didn’t hamper the beauty though. That city is amazing!

Chris and I went first to the Lower Church where I had to fashion a skirt out of my scarf since my shorts were too short. I had the security guard laughing as I tied the scarf, sarong-like around my waist. An art historian must always be prepared. The church was just as beautiful this time around as it has been in the past. I got to spend some time looking at my gesture in the Allegory of Obedience in the transept. After the Lower Church we moved out around the cloister and up into the Upper Church. Admittedly I don’t find the Upper Church all that impressive, but it was nice to run through it nonetheless.

After the church it was up to La Rocca. Chris and I didn’t make the same mistake Jen and I had made back in March (uh… falling on our butts as we were trying to scale the mountain side). Speaking of Jen… rumor has it she “the best.”  Who needs verbs when you the best?

I noticed that today, my third visit to Assisi, I was starting to remember which streets to turn on and which ways to go. It’s strange having a familiarity for a city like that. What a cool thing to claim though. It was up on the top of La Rocca gazing out into the valley that Chris and I ate our lunches.

When we were finished we spent the rest of our time in Assisi wandering through the city, turning every which way, determining our path based on which street looked prettier. This is easier said than done in a place where every street is just as gorgeous as its neighbor. Our day trip to that little Italian paradise ended around 4:30 when we caught the bus back to the train station for our 5:18 train to Florence. I passed the time reading The Picture of Dorian Gray.

By the time we got back to Florence I wasn’t feeling so hot. We went to The William to grab a bite to eat, but I couldn’t finish my plate of fries. My coke was delicious though and really hit the spot even though that wasn’t what I ordered. Oh, well, I was totally out of it and completely exhausted so Chris and I just called it a very full day and went on home after that where decided to turn in early.

A domani…

Saturday, August 23, 2008

So it seems that what I believed was nothing more than sympathy pains for my grandma turns out to be a virus. My stomach has been upset since Tuesday night, but I just shrugged it off before. Ciambella informed me that she was sick as well and that the pharmacist told her it was a virus that was going around. It was my stomach that kept me from doing what Chris and I had planned to do today.

That being said, instead of sightseeing around the city, starting with the church of Santa Maria Novella, Chris and I laid around all day on the couch and watched the Olympics. It was loafing around on the couch that Sean and Ciambella found us when the returned from their time out at the Captain’s beach house. We weren’t terribly energetic.

We did manage to leave the house though. We went over to the Asian market for some groceries and to Standa for some fruit. I wanted to climb the campanile, but I just couldn’t muster the energy. I felt so depleted and my stomach was doing flips so we just turned back around and went back to the apartment. I made grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner and we vegged some more. Now I’ve kept myself away as long as I can for today. I’m going to retreat to the hobbit hole and Mr. Dorian Gray. Goodnight everyone.

Sunday, August 24, 2008—My birthday. Hum…

Happy birthday to me.  Happy birthday to me.

Today is the one year anniversary of the day I got hit in the side of the head with a Frisbee. Plus, it’s my birthday. At this time last year I was living with Schuyler in a tiny cell of a room in horrible Syracuse, dodging Frisbees and making a fool out of myself at my Italian proficiency test. Wow am I glad that’s over.

This year I spent the first day of my 29^th year in Florence, Italy with my husband. Not a bad trade off, if you ask me.

Chris and I got up early this morning and made delicious Freedom toast. Actually Chris got up early to watch the US men’s volleyball team win the gold and I got up because it was too bright for me to keep sleeping. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The breakfast was delicious and before long we were off to enjoy the day.

Our first stop this morning was the Palazzo Vecchio, right around the corner from the apartment. I’ve been there before, but it was a first for Chris and I was happy to show it off to him, especially the chapel of Eleonora (remember my paper from last semester?), Cosimo’s chapel, and the Sala delle Carte, the Map Room. I knew he’d like that one. We found that we live much closer to the Palazzo Vecchio than we realized. While out on the Terrace of Saturn we found ourselves gazing out onto a very familiar sight, our neighborhood. We couldn’t quiet see our apartment because it was blocked by a taller building, but we could almost see it. I was pretty convinced that if Ciambella waved her arms out of her skylight I’d be able to see her. Oh, well. Maybe next time.

After the Palazzo Vecchio we crossed over the river on the Ponte Vecchio already bogged down with tourists. We stopped in at the church of Santo Spirito and then made our way over to Santa Maria del Carmine and the Brancacci Chapel. The last time I was there was in 2003 when I came to Florence with SCAD. It was even more beautiful than I remembered. We stayed in the chapel for the maximum amount of time allowed (they do timed visits of 15 minutes each) and went out for my birthday lunch.

Due to my yucky stomach I was all that hungry, but it was my birthday so I was determined to enjoy it. We went to the Osteria Santo Spirito where I got what was perhaps the most amazing thing I’ve ever eaten: perfectly cooked gnocchi baked in a cheesy, buttery, truffle sauce. I estimate that it was about 75,000 calories worth of deliciousness. Like yesterday we had planned on hitting up the campanile after lunch, but didn’t because I felt so terrible so instead we went back home and I took a much-needed nap.

After a couple hours I dragged myself out of bed and started getting ready for my birthday dinner at La Taverna. While I was working furiously to make myself presentable for the outside world, Ciambella whipped up some ravishing berry muffin/cupcakes and looked ravishing in the process. We saved them as a treat for when we got back home after dinner (oh, and by the way, they’re delicious).

Chris, Ciambella, Sean and I met Lara and Dan at La Taverna and were soon joined by Clark and Tom, just back from the States. The dinner was excellent (of course, that place is a sure thing) and we all had a good time. I think we were dangerously close to being obnoxious Americans for most of the time, but it was fun so who cares. Oh, and somehow I broke my glass. I have no idea how I managed that one. It seems I’m a brute.

We moved on to the steps of Santa Croce to finish the day. It was a nice birthday, upset tummy notwithstanding. It certainly beats getting hit in the head with a Frisbee.

And that was that. Ciao, ciao.

(Sorry about the delay everyone. I’ve had some technical difficulties. I don’t know what I did. So this is a long one and, sadly, only somewhat entertaining. Enjoy!)

Friday, August 1, 2008

Today was something out of the ordinary. This morning we all (Ciambella, Chris and I) got up and got ready (“you know, like you do”), but today instead of falling into our typical patterns and routines we left together for the steps out front of the Biblioteca Nationale. We were sidetracked momentarily when we ran into Lara and her family as they were walking down Via dei Neri on their way to the Uffizi. We chatted for a while, but soon said goodbye and continued on our way. We sat out on the steps in the quickly-warming sun and waited. Today we were going to be swept up and taking to a far away land called Carmingnano. Before too long our landlady, Anna, pulled up and we all hopped in her car. (For the record Ciambella sat in the front and long-legged Chris and I sat in the back, both destined to wrestle with motion sickness for most of the day.)

We drove through the city, first in a circle that looped back toward the Biblioteca Nationale then on across the Arno, past the Pitti Palace, back across the Arno, and off into the rolling hills of Tuscany. I can honestly say that I have no idea how we ended up taking the route we did, but I suspect that it has something to do with crazing driving rules and one-way streets in Florence.

It was nice to be in a car again. Other than our lift home from I Tatti the other day I haven’t been in a car since January. Ahhh… it’s so nice. Zipping through town, watching those sad, sweaty people struggling as they walk (ha ha ha… who walks when there are cars around?). Needless to say I enjoyed it. I was just beginning to think that cars were the best things ever when Anna slowed down and pulled into a gas station. (Oh, yeah. Gas… Gas is expensive… Cars break down and cost lots of money… It’s all coming back to me…)

You know, businesses will go to great lengths to get repeat customers. Take this gas station for example. When Anna pulled in the attendant came over to the car (it was not self service) and while the car was filling he handed her a baseball cap with the gas station’s logo emblazoned across the front, a key chain, and a repeat customer card. It was so wonderful! After 12 fill-ups you get a free bottle of wine! How perfect! Nothing screams responsibility behind the wheel like a free bottle of booze at the gas station! (Only in Italy…)

We drove on to Carmingnano. I’m not really sure how far out we were. Maybe about 30km or so. (Ok, ok. For all of you people in my life—aka my dad and my father-in-law—no, I have not taken the time to find this city on a map. Please don’t think less of me. Ok. Moving on.)

As it turns out Carmignano is a nice little town on a hill overlooking vast expanses of farm lands filled with olive trees, corn, and grape vines. The day couldn’t have been more beautiful. The sky was richly blue and the clouds were so white they seemed to bounce off the blue backdrop. The fields were variations of muted yellows, greens, browns, and silver (the olive trees). For maybe the second time since I’ve been here I saw Italy as I imagined it would be. Now that it is officially the dry season the whole landscape has changed. The colors have dulled and lost their lusciousness from the spring, but have adopted a whole new color palette in exchange.

We went into the small, quiet church of San Michele and upon entering my eye scanned the nave until it fell on the familiar scene of the Visitation by Pontormo. It was so beautiful. It was more than I expected. We spent about 40 minutes staring at it, discussing its innovative elements, its beautiful colors, and its graceful lines. After gawking for a while we went off to lunch, making a quick stop at a bakery to pick up a giant bag full of cookies—very important to have around, don’t you think?

The restaurant we were planning on eating at was closed so we went off in Anna’s car to another spot. We stopped by her country home on the way out (she needed to pick up some things for her boyfriend) then continued on through the twisting and turning of the Tuscan hillside roads. We ate at a dirty shop that sold eggs and fruit and assorted packaged goods. Sounds appetizing, you may be thinking, and you would be almost close to being right. The shop had about five tables in the back where they served lunch. Apparently it was a family operation that had been going on for many years, once operated by the parents, but now run by the children. It’s one of those places where the same old men sit at the same tables day after day after day. Of course, when you throw a table of three Americans and an Italian into the mix things just go crazy.

Our food was okay (Ciambella’s was the best), the wine was bland (we mixed it with water to make it better—a common Italian practice at lunch), and the temperatures were flirting around 1000°, but the conversation was nice and we all had a good time.

After lunch we winded our way back down the hill and back to Florence. Chris and I were suffering from raging cases of motion sickness and there wasn’t a lot of air moving around in the backseat of the car. When it’s that hot outside you just can’t seem to cool off the inside of a car. I had asked Anna to stop by a store outside of the city where I could pick up a big fan for the apartment. She stopped at an electronics superstore (as “superstore” as they get here in Italy) called Euronics. While we paid 20€ for a tiny, weak fan from the shop down the street in centro, they had large, standing fans at Euronics for 16€, twice the size of our fan for less. Oh, this is why I love me some superstore.

Back home we set up the new fan. It was nothing more than a lesson in futility. It was 32.7° in the apartment (that’s about 91°) and the air wasn’t moving at all. It was lovely. We ate dinner. We sweated. We watched TV. It was hot and miserable. Eventually the heat broke our collective will and we all decided to retire for the evening.

And so, from the center of the earth, goodnight.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

I woke up this morning around 10 and enjoyed my breakfast of coconut yogurt & peaches with strawberry jam toast. When I say that I enjoyed it, I mean that I enjoyed it at first, but soon I realized something horrible. It’s my breakfast nightmare. What was that flavor? Oh, no. It couldn’t be. Oh, yes, it was: garlic. The last time I got some butter there had been some garlic on the knife. This is a problem I encounter occasionally. It’s gross. Strawberry jam toast does not go well with traces of garlic. So, with a heavy heart I had to say goodbye to my toast and move on with my day.

Chris and I spent the day wandering around Florence, in search of some nicer shirts and pants and for Chris. While out and about we stopped by Eby’s, a little Mexican restaurant by the sketchy alley, for lunch. Eby’s has the most amazing burritos. Sadly, they are never hot enough for me, but they’re still great. My favorite is the spicy potato and chicken burrito. They call it the El Conchita, or something like that. Highly recommended if you’re ever in Florence.

In the afternoon we found some nice things for Chris and stopped in at The Paperback Exchange, an English bookstore here in Florence and the prime location for Syracuse students to sell back their books at the end of the semester apparently. The store was full of Kenneth Clark and Martin Kemp, not terribly common in your average bookstore, and there were tons of copies of Vasari’s Lives and Boccaccio’s Decameron and Dante’s Inferno. I wanted one copy of everything, but I settled for yet another copy of Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Gray. That brings my total copies of that book to three, two in English and one in Italian.

After depleting our shopping reservoir—not very tough to do—we headed back to La Scala exhausted. We lazied around until Sean and Ciambella came in later from their day at the lake. Ciambella and I had an emergency pedicure session and then the four of us watched Best in Show. I thought that the evening would be over there, but at the last minute Vanessa Avery called and invited us to join her and her cousin at Angie’s.

Chris and I met them there and stayed for one beer before calling it a night. Now it’s late and we still have to pack for our trip to Rome, so goodnight everybody.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

I woke up this morning and got ready as quickly as I could. I made mind-blowingly delicious omelet sandwiches for our train trip. We took the 9:09 regional to Rome. It took almost 4 hours, but was half the price of the much-faster Eurostar so we took one for the team and settled in for the long haul. It actually went pretty quickly. We arrived in Rome just before 1.

We stayed at the Flann O’Bryan Rooms. The Flann O’Bryan is an Irish pub in Rome near the train station. So basically Chris and I stayed at an Irish pub. Our room was in a townhouse about three blocks away. It was nice, small, but nice. We even had a little balcony, which was a pleasant surprise. We ate lunch over at the pub (overpriced, not that great, and definitely not Irish pub fare).

After lunch we went to Santa Maria degli Angeli just down the street. It’s a really incredible church. It was designed by Michelangelo and built into the walls of the baths of Diocletian. It was dedicated as a Christian church to Mary and all the Christians who died during the construction of the baths. I’d never been there before so it was a totally new experience for me. I was surprised by how huge it was. It seemed to go on forever. Very cool church.

After Santa Maria degli Angeli we went past the Piazza Barberini and on to Santa Maria della Concezione, another church I’ve never been to. We went straight to the crypts. Santa Maria della Concezione is a Capuchin church with one of the creepiest and coolest things I’ve ever seen. They have used the bones of dead friars to decorate the crypts. Unfortunately you aren’t able to take pictures while you’re down there, but I don’t think it would have mattered if I did. It’s just unbelievable. You really would need to see it in person. The crypt was small, but impressive. They would have a skull (sawed off in the back to make it flat) with pelvic bones on either side like wings. Vertebrae would be lined up like ribbing on the vault and rib bones and jaw bones would be arranged like rosettes and other decorative elements. It was both beautiful and horrifying at the same time. In the last room was a sign that read:

“Quello che voi siete noi eravamo, Quello che noi siamo voi sarete.”

(“What you are now we used to be; what we are now you will be.”)

After that lighthearted romp through the macabre, we went over to the Spanish steps, soaked up some sun, listened to some singers, sweated some more, and moved on to the Piazza del Popolo. We checked out the view from up on an overlook before continuing our tour of Santa Maria churches at Santa Maria del Popolo. This church was one of my must-see sights for this trip. Inside are two works of Caravaggio that are just beautiful: The Conversion of Saint Paul and The Crucifixion of Saint Peter. They are beautiful in the pages of books, but even more stunning in person.

After the church we passed some time people watching in the piazza and cooling our feet in a fountain of ice water. It was relaxing until I realized that my toes were turning purple and I could no longer feel my feet. After the ice bath we strolled down the Corso, people watching, window shopping, and a little bit of actual shopping. On the way back to the hotel we stopped by a grocery store and picked up some things for dinner. We ate our dinner in the air-conditioned comfort of our cozy hotel room. I already feel like we’ve been in Rome for weeks…

Monday, August 4, 2008

Chris and I checked out the breakfast offerings over at the pub. It was pretty decent. Chris even took a few sips of a cappuccino. It was a miracle. First step: one sip of cappuccino; second step: straight espresso.

After breakfast we went over to San Pietro in Vincoli (Saint Peter in the Chains). It was a refreshing change after all the Santa Marias. We stopped in to see Michelangelo’s Moses. I saw it a few months ago with Hatfield’s class, and I was thrilled to see it again. I got a call from my Aunt Sue right as we were walking in telling me that they would be in town in about an hour or two. That was a little bit of a change of plans from what I expected and it meant that we would be making quick work of our sightseeing this morning.

After Moses it was off to Piazza Venezia to pick up the 44 bus to Trastevere. We were swept across the river and through the woods to the beautiful little gem of the Tempietto, designed by Bramante. Unfortunately, despite its advertised hours, it was closed. I was shocked and a little annoyed. Dejected, Chris and I walked around and around in search of our next target, Santa Maria in Trastevere. (It was the return of the Santa Marias!) My trip to this church was specifically to look at six capitals that supposedly had my gesture on them. If they did, I couldn’t see them.

That was pretty disappointing, but the trip was far from being a waste. The church was gorgeous with very impressive gold mosaic work in the apse and a beautiful scene of Christ and Mary Enthroned. A very worthwhile trip.

A quick call to my aunt led Chris and I to our next destination: the Visconti Palace, where they were staying. Since we weren’t sure what the best bus to take would be we ended up walking what seemed like miles (and probably was) from the church to the hotel. We spent a few hours socializing—it was so great to see family.

We had a long, Italian-style lunch with everyone on the Piazza Navona and then Chris, Uncle Steve, Lindy, Sid (family friend), and I moved on for “Sarah’s Tour of Four Roman Churches.” Along the way my Uncle Steve attacked some caribinieri, Italian cops. It was a photo op if ever there was one.

Our first stop was the famous Pantheon. “Beautiful, gorgeous. Wish you were here.” I’ve been there a few times before, but it doesn’t get old. Then it was on to yet another Santa Maria: Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, just behind the Pantheon. I felt it was my duty to show everyone something a little disappointing in the form of Michelangelo’s ugliest work, the Risen Christ. Then the tour moved on to Sant’Ignazio to gaze at its false ceiling. We ended at San Luigi dei Francesi. I saved the best for last. Here we gazed at two more of Caravaggio’s best pieces: The Calling of Saint Matthew and the Inspiration of Saint Matthew. Ahhh… So gorgeous.

After the whirlwind church tour we all went back to the hotel. Dinner was at a little pizza place around the corner from the hotel. The restaurant was less Italy and more Aspen. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a giant moose head on the wall next to a shot gun, but the food was Italian and it was delicious. It was so nice to be able to spend a nice dinner with my family.

When the night was over, we all said goodnight and Chris and I caught a cab back to the hotel. I still feel like I’ve been in Rome for ages.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

We had breakfast at the pub again today. I don’t get to say that very often.

Chris and I were off to the Capitaline Museum after breakfast. This was yet another place in Rome that I’d never been to. I was very pleasantly surprised by how nice it was. Plus I got a discount since I’m a student. That doesn’t happen as much as I’d like so it’s always nice when it does. I couldn’t believe how many important works of art they had. I saw the bust of Socrates, the Flavian woman, the boy tying his sandal, the dying Gaul, my gesture (in the form of Harpocrates), and so much more. It was wonderful. Plus part of it was air conditioned, which was really wonderful!

After the museum it was off to San Giovanni in Lateran to catch the 218 bus to the catacombs. We went first to St. Domitila, but (despite its advertised hours) it was closed. So we went on to the catacombs of St. Sebastian. I’d never been to the catacombs either.

We got our tickets and waited our turn for the English-language tour to begin. Almost immediately after descending the steps that lead beneath the ground we could feel the drastic temperature drop. It was amazing. I had to wrap myself up in my scarf to ward off the almost immediate goose bumps.

The catacombs were incredible. I wish we were down there for longer. I don’t think either one of us got a whole lot out of the guide though. I’m mean, yes, it was an English-language tour, but I think Chris and I were the only ones who actually spoke English, our guide included. Oh well, it was cool (literally and figuratively) nonetheless.

After emerging back into the intense heat of the living above ground we caught the 218 back to San Giovanni in Lateran and walked back towards our hotel for some relaxation before dinner with the family. We made a quick pit stop at Santa Maria Maggiore, but couldn’t visit for long. There was a visiting cardinal and he was conducting a service inside. Must remember to visit that church during my next trip to Rome…

Back at the hotel we proceeded to pig out on leftover prosciutto and Pringles from last night’s dinner. I fell asleep for a little while and the next thing I knew it was time to leave for our 8 o’clock appointment at Charreada, a Mexican restaurant across the river that came heavily recommended by Lara.

Chris and I took our seats outside and waited for Aunt Sue, Uncle Steve and Lindy to arrive which they did shortly after. I was happy to see that Sandee had joined them so we all moved over to a table for six and settled in for a great Mexican dinner in Rome. I had such a great time once again with everyone. It was sad to say goodbye at the end of the night. I suspect that the next time we eat dinner together again it will be at Christmas and in a very different setting.

Since we were both tired and very far from the hotel, Chris and I decided to splurge on a cab back. It was a wise decision. I don’t think I would have made it otherwise. It was another very long and very hot day in Rome. Now it is over and it is time to relax and sleep. Goodnight to you all.

(The writer of this blog would like to extend a very special thank you to her favorite aunt and uncle [I promised!] for all their generosity the past two days in Rome and for all their love and support over the last 28 years. Thank you all so much for such a memorable trip to Rome. I’ll see you again in December!)

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

This morning was a little slower than I had expected it to be. Chris and I moseyed our way over to the pub for breakfast, checked out, and left our bags behind the front counter as we set off for the last long day of our Roman Holiday.

Our first stop was the only stop that I had planned for. We walked over to the Villa Borghese to make our 1 o’clock appointment for the gallery. This was yet another place I had never been to in Rome—what a successful trip! Much to my surprise I had made our reservation correctly and everything ran according to plan. We picked up our tickets and patiently waited for 1:00 to arrive.

At the appointed time we went into the gallery and I was blown away for the second day in a row. The Borghese Gallery has a lot of Bernini, most notably the David and Apollo and Daphne. The David is gorgeous—I love the tension in his face, supposedly a self-portrait—but the Apollo and Daphne took my breath away. It was absolutely stunning. Oh! I only wish I could transport all of you to that room so that you could see what I saw. Bernini was really showing off with that one. The way he manipulated textures to show the transition of Daphne’s skin into the leaves and bark of the tree was incredible. Definitely a highlight of my trip to Rome!

There was a Correggio exhibit going on and while I’m not a huge fan I found it to be really beautiful. I had one of those moments when I feel so fortunate to be living here with so many opportunities to see such amazing things in person. Once again I have to say, don’t let anyone think that I don’t appreciate what I’m doing here.

After the gallery we tooled around the grounds in search of the bike rental office, which we never found. It was always just around the corner. Funny how that happens, huh? We eventually gave up and decided to head out of town.

We stopped at the Hard Rock Café for lunch. Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. We really embraced the culture of Rome on this trip, didn’t we? We stayed at an Irish pub, we ate at a place decorated like an Aspen ski lodge one night, a Mexican restaurant the next, and the Hard Rock Café on the last. Not too Italian, but I enjoyed every minute of it. It was so nice to sit in a restaurant and listen to people speaking English while English-language music played, to see bathrooms with normal toilets, to be served unnecessarily ridiculous portions of food, and to not have to try to speak Italian to the server. Oh, sweet release! I ate barbeque. I don’t even really like barbeque; I just knew I wouldn’t have another chance to eat for about five months. It was heavenly.

With very full stomachs we went back to the pub to retrieve our bags. On the way there we made the executive decision to split up in an effort to ensure that we caught the 5:55 Eurostar train back to Florence. Chris ran to get the bags and I went ahead to the station to buy the tickets. Our plan worked beautifully and we made the train with no problems.

The ride back was really quick for me. I slept most of the 1 ½ ride back. One minute I was staring uncomfortably at the people sitting across from me, the next we were in Florence. It was like magic. We walked back to the apartment, which was horribly hot, as expected. We didn’t make it too long in the land of the living. We both decided to retire fairly early after our busy trip to Rome.

And so that concludes my tale of my latest vacation in Italy.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Bright and early this morning Chris was off to I Tatti and Ciambella was off to Berlin leaving me free to enjoy the apartment all myself this morning. I toyed with the idea of going Macaulay Culkin on the place, but instead I just took my time with everything I did. I watched The Rock in Italian (loved it), read a little about silence (hated it), and watched some TV. All the while I positioned and re-positioned the four fans we own around the apartment in an attempt to find the best way to move the stiflingly hot air around. I had all the windows closed and all the blinds drawn and all the fans pointed at one spot on the couch. Clearly I had given up on moving air around in favor of just cooling myself off.

Chris came home from I Tatti and looked a bit like a drowned rat. He was sweating so badly. I almost felt bad for him. I figure with this experience and all this heat we are really building some incredible character. I told my dad not long ago that I expect that someday we will have more character than we know what to do with.

After a short while the buzzer rang. Now I should say that the buzzer rings more than you might expect. Normally when the buzzer rings I answer it. Normally when I answer the buzzer there is a Mormon or a salesperson or a gypsy on the doorstep. That, my friends, is no fun for me. So this evening when the buzzer rang I quickly said, “Ignore it!” to Chris. You can’t fool this girl!

Anyway, so though it broke Chris’ heart to go back out into the heat (and climb the steps again) we left shortly after that to the grocery store. We needed everything. This is what happens when you go out of town for a while. You come back and all the sudden you’ve got no food. Yuck. I hate big grocery trips here. For one thing, they are kind of embarrassing because the Italians just don’t do big shopping trips. So while I’m standing there with an overflowing basket of bananas, sausage, bread, prosciutto, tomatoes , onions, milk (tons of milk), cereal, chocolate and whatever else may catch my fancy, some 80 lb Italian chick is standing in front of me with a quarter of a watermelon, a bottle of water, and piece of cheese. It’s terrible. Ciambella and I have often commented on our fictional dinner parties or our imaginary house guests just loud enough for those around us to hear. Aren’t we clever?

So Chris and I had just walked into the grocery store when, as I was inspecting the tomatoes, a shriek of joy filled the air. I looked up in time to see Lara and her sister, Megan, running from the back of the store in my direction. (I get that reaction a lot actually. People looooove seeing me at the grocery store.) It seems that L and her sister had locked themselves out of Casa LSD and were roaming the mean streets of Florence looking for me. Yeah, so the moral of this story is that it’s not only Mormons, salespeople and gypsies who ring my buzzer, sometimes my homeless friends do too. Lara said that after we didn’t answer the door they checked Angie’s Pub (we weren’t there) and then Gelateria Neri (my reputation precedes me) and when we weren’t there either they figured we had to be at the grocery store. Ok. Moral number two of this story: I am a boring, boring person who should seriously consider changing up my routine just in case I’m being stalked.

While I put embarrassing quantities of food into the basket Lara and Megan told the harrowing tale of how the front door of Casa LSD was shut in slow motion at the exact moment that Lara was saying “I… don’t… have… my… [click]… keys…” The S of LSD is in Chicago, which wasn’t of much consolation for Lara today, and the D was roaming around Spain somewhere for all we knew. He’d left his phone in Florence and was as a result totally out of reach. Their landlord wasn’t answering her phone and in fact, Lara had left her phone in the house. (Lara’s cell phone skills will be saved for another day, but the fact that she left the house without it isn’t in the least bit surprising.) So basically, they were stranded.

Chris gave them his phone, which looks like a sports car, but that’s not important right now, Lara and Megan went out into the mean world to find a ray of hope, and Chris and I went back to La Scala. We made some rockin’ pizza for dinner and settled in to watch some Forsythe Saga (remember that?). We were about halfway through an episode when I got a text from Chris/Lara asking for a bed for the night. And that is the story of how we got surprising houseguests here at La Scala today.

Lara was understandably thrilled to not only have a place to sleep tonight, but also to stumble upon a Forsythe Saga party. The four of us sat around watching the web of intrigue unravel before us until about midnight. I made sure they were settled in Ciambella’s room and we all said goodnight. And with that, I will say goodnight to you too.

Friday, August 8, 2008

This morning after Chris left for I Tatti I finished up the laundry that was littering the living room and quietly started a hefty batch of espresso. It was about that time when my guests woke up and joined me in the kitchen. We all enjoyed our morning lattes together while we sat around chatting. Not long after that they resolved to try once more to locate someone, anyone who could help them into their locked-up apartment.

After they left I had planned on doing some research, but instead I did my best sloth impression as I crawled around in the heat. I was waiting to hear from Lara. If she got in the apartment I would be leaving to head over there, otherwise she and Megan would be returning to La Scala. Then I got a text message. They’d gotten in. That was at about 1:30.

So I got ready and headed down the Arno to the newly-opened Casa LSD.

Today was a big day. Today was the opening ceremonies of the XXIX Olympic games in Beijing, or Pechino, as the Italians say. By the time I arrived the show had already started (it started at 2pm here), but I didn’t miss much. We sat around and talked about every last detail of the program. We were waiting with baited breath for the main event: the Parade of Nations. Lara was on the same page as I when she astutely surmised that the purpose of watching the opening ceremonies was to locate all the hot guys from other countries. Absolutely correct. Especially the Australians. They’re nuts.

Well, there seems to be an alarming lack of hot athletes in the Olympics this year. Oh, well, just as well, I guess. I can’t understand anything the commentators are saying anyway so I won’t understand any of the heart-wrenching stories they love to tell. Guess I’ll just have to watch it for the sportsmanship and all that.

Just after the US team rolled into the “Bird’s Nest”, the Olympic Stadium, Chris rolled into LSD. Not long after that Dan, the wayward Spain traveler, rolled in too. With the addition of two more bodies the temperature in the apartment rose by about 40°. We all watched the end of the ceremonies and collectively marveled at the endurance of those girls dressed like tennis players in high heeled boots that jumped around the whole time the athletes were coming in.

By that time we were all pretty hungry and so in honor of the Olympics we went to get some Chinese food for dinner. It was delicious. I mean, it’s no Flying Tiger, but I’ll take it.

After some loafing around Chris and I finally left around 10pm. The air was nice and cool outside as we walked down the Arno. I was graced with a call from my big brother—a big surprise. That made the walk home just fly by.

Once back it was clear that it was time to say adieu to the day and hit the sack. Until tomorrow, be good sports and remember to just say no to doping.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

I had such a slow morning today. Sometimes it’s necessary. In the case of today it wasn’t so much a lazy morning out of necessity as out of lethargy. Chris and I didn’t really accomplish anything. We watched the Olympics and Wedding Crashers and that was about it for most of the day.

It’s been interesting watching the Olympics here. There’s no Bob Costas so we don’t really know what to do with ourselves. There is this one guy whom we have affectionately dubbed “Roberto Costas” who is always leading the commentary, but it’s just not the same. They don’t show all the events going on, just the ones with Italian athletes which means that we’ve been watching all those lame sports like archery and shooting and fencing and boxing. (Sorry if I offended any of those avid fencers out there.) Plus I’m having a terrible time understanding what the commentators are saying. They talk too fast for me. I guess I can’t complain. Something tells me that I’m getting more out of it than Chris is.

While we spent our day trying to earn the gold medal in couch-potatoing, we got a text from Dan inviting us to a dinner party at their place tonight. At about 4 Chris and I managed to pull ourselves away from the couch and venture out into the world in search of stuff to make a salad. All of the little markets on my street were closed (now that’s it’s August everyone is on holiday) and Magi has terrible veggies so we ended up over at Standa. Ordinarily I would do anything to avoid going to Standa, but I was in a pickle. That supermercato has horrible long lines and there always seems to be a screaming baby with complaining parents in line in front of me. I hate it there. Today Standa had a surprise in store for me.

Not only was it a mecca of delicious-looking fruits and veggies, but it was virtually empty. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Then I found a jar of salsa! A jar of salsa! I couldn’t believe it! I mean, sure, it’s not normal salsa, but it’s something! And they had Doritos-type chips. It was crazy! I went nuts like a, well, like me in a Kroger. It was a successful trip, despite my initial reservations.

Back home I made a salad of romaine and spinach with strawberries, blueberries, and these little plum-type fruits with a honey-lime dressing. It tasted pretty good and was really beautiful to look at. Chris and I left the apartment around 7 with the salad in hand and headed down the Arno the Casa LSD.

We had dinner tonight with Dan, Clark, Analia, and Earl. As usual I ate too much. I don’t understand how it happens. One minute I’m normal and the next I’m eating paella, eggplant parmesan, tons of bread, mozzarella balls, salad, watermelon, and frutti di bosco (basically mixed berry) jello. Also as usual, it was all great and the conversation was wonderful. (I tried to post my last blog while I was there, but it seems that I can find a way to have technical difficulties no matter how easy the program is. Sorry about the delay.)

Towards the end of the night Lara and Megan got home from their day in Lucca. We spent the rest of the night just hanging out, talking, watching some Olympics, and checking out a few SNL clips online. It was a great time, as expected. Chris and I didn’t head out until about a quarter to 1 in the am.

Now that we’re home, we’re melting. It’s 1:37am and the apartment is a toasty 28.8°. That’s pretty warm for the middle of the night. I’m tired and it is well past time for bed. Buona notte.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

This morning I got up, started the laundry, and read an article about my gesture. Chris got up shortly after that and I made us a huge breakfast of scrambled eggs with peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, garlic, basil, and cheese. It was delicious. We also had some peaches that I just bought the other day. They are so fresh and delicious right now. I love them.

After breakfast we took our positions on the couch and turned on the Olympics. Something tells me that will be the trend for the next two weeks… I started reading a dissertation on religious uses of silence and Chris manned the computer. That continued for a while until I began obsessed and started cleaning the apartment like a crazy person. I swept and mopped (amazing since I never mop) and finished the laundry and cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen. Our landlady will be here tomorrow to check our water heater and Ciambella and I figured it might be nice if on at least one of her trips she found a clean apartment over here.

Once I had finished ravaging the apartment with my cleaning madness I went right back to where I began: on the couch reading about silence and watching the Olympics. During the scherma (fencing) I found myself torn between rooting for my host country and the hot guy from Spain. I chose wisely; the Italian won the gold. Once it became clear to us that they were re-showing the same random sports that they showed this morning Chris and I turned the sound off and put a movie on the computer. We watched Failure to Launch. Ok. So it’s no Wanted, but it was pretty close. It was absolutely terrible. The plot was not only not believable in any way, but it was poorly written, poorly acted, and ultimately one pathetically laughable movie. (My apologies to all those Failure to Launch fans out there. Well, actually… I take it back. What are you thinking?)

And that is how we ended our day. It was surprising busy for me despite my short entry. I’m going to go on to bed now. Good night, folks. Hope you had a great Sunday!

Monday, August 11, 2008

I almost had a little bit more to add to yesterday’s entry, but unfortunately for all of you I don’t. After Chris and I had gone to bed last night I got a frantic call from Vanessa Avery. By the sound of her voice I thought that a band of pirates had kidnapped her cousin or something, but no, lizards had invaded her apartment. That of course would have been my second guess. There was some confusion as to whether Chris and I would put on our cowboy hats and wrangle us some lizards, but ultimately the situation was resolved without any further involvement on our part. Too bad. Something tells me that would have made for some great blog fodder.

So this morning as my mind drifted off into the realm of “what if” I enjoyed the solitude of the apartment. Ciambella is still in Berlin, for a few more hours anyway, and Chris was off at I Tatti. I made a strong espresso and ate a huge bowl of yogurt, berries, and a weird plum-like thing and prepared the apartment for another steamy day at La Scala.

Feeling a bit panicked about my symposium research I figured that it would be wise to concentrate on my work so I set up a little work station at the desk. My goal for today is to read at least one article and type up my notes from two previously read articles. We’ll see how that goes.

I was expecting Anna, our landlady, around 1 so when she showed up at a quarter til I was a little surprised (good thing I already put the laundry away—no one wants to unexpectedly walk into a jungle of underwear). She didn’t stay long. She had forgotten some paperwork for the water heater so right after she arrived she was out again with the warning that the water heater guy might show up while she’s out. (Ok. I can do this. I can speak Italian to a water heater guy. I’ll be okay.)

Well, none of that mattered because Anna returned before the water heater guy and she read her book while I read my articles while he took the cover off the water heater and then proceeded to hit it with a wrench for a while. I don’t really know what exactly he was supposed to be doing to it, but I can safely assume that banging a water heater with a wrench once a year is necessary for keeping it in working order.

Anna left with the water heater man after he was finished kicking the crap out of the thing and I went back to my research. I watched (sort of) the Americans beat the Swiss at beach volleyball. Chris got home around 5:30 and Ciambella, fresh off her German holiday, and the Quiet One followed soon afterward. We all spent a little while trying to acclimate to being around each other again in our small two bedroom and very warm apartment until the time came for us all to leave and head over to Za-Za for dinner.

Not long after the four of us settled into our table at Za-Za, which seems to be reserved for us because every time I’ve been there with more than one other person I’ve been seated there, Vanessa Avery, her cousin, Lara, Megan, Dan, and Clark showed up. We spent our dinner laughing loudly and obnoxiously, you know, like we do, and talking about all sorts of things (bugths!). I had such a great time. That seems to happen when I go out with those crazy people. I have to send a special shout out to Lara’s sister, Megan, for really jumping in there with us. I’m very impressed.

After dinner—after we finally got our bill, sheesh!—we went on to Casa di Sizzle so that Clark could dance and we could, hopefully watch some Olympics. I promised Lara that Francesco, the owner of Casa di Sizzle, would have diving on because he’s awesome and wouldn’t let me down. When we walked in and saw that brand new, shiny plasma TV we knew that my assumptions were right on. Not only was he showing diving on the Eurosport channel, but it was synchronized diving! Oh, Francesco… I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks.

We were there for far too late when finally the troopers, Chris and I plus the kids from LSD (I guess it’s now more like LMD temporarily), said goodnight to the Olympics and Francesco and his friendly wait staff and headed out in the cool night and then on home.

And that’s that. A dopo.

Friday, July 25, 2008

This morning I had my breakfast with the last of the Romanov family. As I ate my eggs and fruit I read of their trials and tribulations during the 1930s and 40s until they faded off into the pages of history. Nothing like a light-hearted romp through time to get your day off to chipper start.

I had a day of printing planned for myself today so it was off to school instead of I Tatti for me. Chris had planned on spending his day in the air conditioning of the grad room anyway so the two off us set off for school at around 11:30. What we found upon arrival was a place only vaguely resembling the library that I remembered from last semester. There were no students and almost no staff, with the exception of Carol, the librarian, who was sitting upstairs by the main door, not her usual seat at her desk downstairs. She was looking very sad and lonely and told me that she missed the commotion of the students and was looking forward to fall semester. Somehow I doubt that once the bratty students come back and start Skyping in the stacks Carol will change her tune. Time will tell…

Chris settled in the grad room and I grabbed my flash drive and went off to the computer lab in the main building. Carol had warned me that the computer lab was closed, but I just couldn’t believe her. When I saw it for myself my disbelief turned to stunned dismay. The lights were out and there were workers, plaster and sawdust everywhere. My question is: Why on earth would the school close the computer lab, the only place to print available to the hard-working grad students, when we are all still in Florence researching for our symposium papers? Answer: Because they hate us. Or at least that’s what it feels like sometimes.

So I went off in search of a printer. You would think, or at least I would think, that a printer would not be terribly difficult to find at a university. Of course, I’m a little silly. I looked everywhere and talked to everyone, but there was no printer to be found. Makes tons of sense, huh? So eventually I gave up, went back to the library, commiserated with Carol a bit about how the resources are inadequate, and finally went up to the TA’s office to print over a reams worth of articles and notes.

With that task completed I spent some time checking email and making reservations for our trip to Rome at the beginning of August (for more information on that trip please see the upcoming entry dated August 3-6). Chris and I hung out in the air conditioning until about 4 or so when we decided to close up shop and leave the library.

We made a stop at Sidis for some veggies before heading back toward town down Borgo Pinti. On the way we stopped by the barber so that Chris could get a much-needed haircut. The man cutting his hair was the Michelangelo of the hair-cutting world. Plus, he had the most-impressive mustache I’ve ever seen in my life. It looked like a fat, white caterpillar clinging to his upper lip. It was an interesting experience trying to explain in Italian what Chris needed. Unfortunately for him I forgot all my words and could only say “shorter… everywhere.” Well, it seemed to work because he looked nice when it was all over.

After the haircut we went back home with the now-melted butter and had an afternoon snack. Over dinner we played some gin and now I’m losing by about 200 points. It seems that Ciambella is the only person that I am able to beat at gin. And just when I was starting to think I was getting better…

We picked up a bottle of wine and went to out Casa LSD around 9pm to have dinner with Dan. He made fired zucchini flowers as an appetizer and pasta with tomato and basil. It was all delicious. We hung out with him until about midnight when it was time to call the day complete.

And so after a long day, good night.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Chris and I got up early this morning and left the house around &:45 in order to catch the 8:08 train to Viareggio. After taking our seats we discovered that we were sitting just a few rows in front of Lara and her family. That was convenient.

We all went as a group to the beach and got our umbrellas at the Narcisa resort. Chris and I spent the morning alternating between lazying around in the shade and bobbing around in the water. The water was the biggest surprise of the day. In contrast to the bone-breaking waves and the life-threatening undertow of our last two visits, the water was still and calm, even boring. It was more like a lazy river than an ocean. The water was so calm that we could actually see down to our feet (not always a good thing in the ocean).

At lunch time we broke with our routine and ate lunch out at a restaurant on the main strip. We had pizza and beer. It was pretty good. One thing that one must always remember when vacationing at a beach, or rather, when eating a beach, is that the food is not going to be gourmet. It wasn’t bad though.

Our afternoon was much like the morning. We spent about 2 hours bobbing in the water with Lara and her sister. It was actually kind of cold. I mean cold in my world, not cold for most people. I had to lay in the sun for about 30 minutes just to get my body temperature back up to normal.

Chris and I said goodbye to the water and caught the 6:11 train back to Florence, arriving in town around 8:30. Once home, with both of us moving around slowly like zombies, we had a dinner of spinach and ricotta tortellini and a glass of Chianti.

It was around this time that we both retired from the land of the living and decided to call it a day.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

I have no idea what time I fell asleep last night. I don’t even remember it. I was so tired. I must have needed the sleep though because this morning when I was awoken by the bells of Santa Croce (which were ringing seemingly incessantly at 10am) I was rested, but a little confused.

Then I went on a rampage.

I started the last of the laundry, put the dishes away, cleaned up our room, scrubbed the shower and cleaned the bathroom, put the laundry away, did more laundry, made a breakfast of French toast (or Freedom toast, whichever you prefer) and a massive fruit salad, and finished all this before Ciambella even came downstairs from bed. Oh, yeah! This kind of drive doesn’t happen very often so when it does I try to take advantage of it.

Then things slowed down. Ciambella, the Quiet One, Chris and I spent a couple hours hanging out in the living room, sweating in the heat, and talking about nothing. It was after 7 before we got moving. We went to Tijuana to meet up with Sebastian for dinner. The dinner was great, as expected, and the margaritas were wonderful. The real prize of the evening was the impromptu paper airplane flying contest that took place afterward.

We had all fashioned paper airplanes out of our placemats and all of our planes were given proper names: The Gator Gayla (mine), Downspin Daisy (Ciambella’s), The Hatfield Invader (Sebastian’s), The Baby Rab (Sebastian’s escape module), the Arrogant Butthead (the Quiet One—I named the plane), and Steve (Chris’—he swears it’s not named after my dad, but I think it is). After exiting the restaurant we took our positions in the empty street, counted to three, and threw with all our might. Here are the results:

In first place, proving that maybe he was not just arrogant, but right was the Quiet One. In second place, was the surprising, squish-nosed Gator Gayla. Flying in at third with a somewhat disappointing showing was Steve followed by an even more disappointing joint-showing by The Hatfield Invader and the diminutive Baby Rab. In last place was the poor Downspin Daisy, which stunned everyone when it flew straight up and back before spiraling like a peregrine falcon straight to the ground about three feet behind the starting line, confirming that it was the most aptly-named plane of all.

We played with our new toys like fifth graders for about 15 minutes before moving on to The William over by Santa Croce where we were later joined by Carrie, Vanessa Avery, and Shawn.

It was at The William that my day ended. Tomorrow it’s back to the grind. Buona notte.

Monday, July 21, 2008

This morning Chris took off for I Tatti, Ciambella took off for her job at the school’s library, and I loafed around like a giant, lazy slug as has become my custom. I finally made it to I Tatti by 11 (woo-ha) and settled in for a monumental battle between the need to do tons of brilliant research and my wondering mind.

I spent most of my time translating my new book on gesture. I was beginning to feel like I knew no Italian at all. The words looked like scary monsters and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how on earth they were supposed to come together to form intelligible sentences. When my mind reached levels dangerously close to meltdown I pleaded with Lara and Dan to take me away to the wonderful world of the granaio and my carefully packed lunch.

After lunch it was back to my mind-numbing translations and the flood of doubts as to my academic abilities. I managed to hold it together until 5:30ish when Chris, Dan and I took off and went on our way to Casa LSD.

Once there I stood guard while the boys went to the vinaio (the local wine dealer) and the grocery store. And then Lara arrived and then Tom arrived and then Ciambella arrived and one by one they all arrived. Tonight we were having a “Goodbye Tom” dinner party of fajitas, bean salsa, pecorino cheese with truffle honey, and brownie w/mascarpone. (It started as a pot-luck, but turned into fajita night, but the memo went out a little late.)

We devoured Lara amazing bean salsa in approximately 3.5 seconds. We ate it in a very greedy manner, come to think of it. We spent the next few hours doing what we do well: talking about our symposium, the program, random things, childish things, things that made me laugh so hard I cried… you know, the usual. It was yet another successful dinner party over at LSD (minus the S). You know you’ve thrown a good dinner party when Ciambella falls asleep on the dining room floor.

Dan had told me earlier in the day that he was hoping the night would end by about 9:30 so he could get some sleep. Hold on a minute. (Baaa-hahahahaha!) Ok. I’m back. Needless to say, that didn’t happen. I think that Tom, Clark, Chris, Sebastian and I rolled out at midnight.

And that was my Monday.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Florence was hit with the wrath of God last night. At around 4am Chris and I were awoken by the god-awful sound of hurricane force winds ripping through the blinds. I don’t know how best to describe the sound. It’s almost like possums fighting. It’s scary sounding. Half asleep (well, more like 82% asleep) I fumbled around the room shutting windows. That plan failed as later I would be awoken again when the wind blew open my closed bedroom window. It was intense. Shortly after I got up Chris rolled over and fell back to sleep like a baby. Not cool. It was a long, long night.

In the morning I was able to survey the damage from the night before. All the papers from on top of the fridge and all the magnets from on the fridge had blown off and were strewn all over the kitchen. No biggie. I wasn’t in a rush this morning.

I hadn’t planned on going to I Tatti today, but I had a special request from Lara to put in an appearance. Today was her last I Tatti day for the summer. No, no. Please don’t feel sorry for her. Her family is coming tomorrow so poor Lara is just going to have to buck up and not do research for a couple weeks. And so this morning instead of going to the Dutch Institute (another library here in Florence for art historical study) I went off to I Tatti. And as usual I didn’t show up until after 11. I am such a bum.

I had a terrible time getting myself up the hill today. It was gloriously beautiful out. Apparently the apocalypse from last night paved the way for the most amazing weather I think I have ever seen. I asked myself what was possessing me to go to the library on a day like today, but since I didn’t answer myself I went anyway. I took some pictures on my way up the road to I Tatti. I fear that they won’t do the day justice, but I had to try just the same.

It was just Lara and I at the library today. Oh, yeah and I didn’t make it in until noon. Hee hee. Oops. My translation went much smoother than it had yesterday. The words which yesterday were scary animals were today nothing more than grumpy puppies so I could handle it. Lara and I stopped our learning around 2 for lunch.

I would like to take this opportunity to tell the world that a pretty intense aluminum foil basketball contest has been taking place within the walls of the granaio. It all began when Lara, little tiny Lara, made a basket into the trash can with her ball of aluminum foil from her comfy chair about 20+ feet from the can, showing promise that a career in the WMBA is not out of the question if this whole art history thing doesn’t work out. Well, today she took one last shot of the summer for old time’s sake and… well, missed the basket entirely and looked ridiculous. Her pathetic throw made it about 10 feet—maybe—before giving up its will to live and falling to the ground. We both laughed hysterically and the WMBA scouts released a collective sigh of disappointment.

After lunch it was back to translations. I worked hard this afternoon and even accomplished the impossible: I stayed at I Tatti later than Lara. Congratulations to me. I was given a break from all my hard work in the afternoon by Gian Mario, one of the librarians at I Tatti who’s not Chris. He invited me to afternoon tea. He actually said, “would you like to have afternoon tea with your husband?” (Please note: I was invited not by Chris, but by someone else to enjoy afternoon tea at I Tatti. Poo Poo Chris.) I accepted the invitation (because that’s what you do) and went out into the garden overlooking a valley and ate some cookies and drank some iced tea with Chris, Gian Mario, and Angela, another librarian. I have to admit, it was really awkward. For the most part we just stared at each other. Whatever. The cookies were great.

I worked a bit longer after tea time. Chris and I didn’t stroll out of there until after 6. I gave Half Nose a little pet on the head and glared at Whole Nose Grumpy Pants before leaving the gates to I Tatti and strolling down the hill past the beautiful countryside to the bus, which we missed. Since we missed the bus we were able to ride back to town with Gian Mario. He’s always been really nice to me (actually everyone at I Tatti is always really nice to all of us) and it was good to have the chance to talk to him about some of the libraries around Florence.

Chris and I had a pretty relaxed time back at the crib. We had stopped by the grocery store because I was craving steak like it was my job (surprisingly it is not). I made steak and roasted potatoes for dinner and my heart sang for joy. It was my first bit of steak since I moved here. It’s been too long to be away from such an old friend.

After dinner I expected my day to be over. I changed into my pjs and cozied up with my book. It was around that time that Ciambella got a call from Carrie who had the night off from the summer program she is working right now. She was calling to invite us to La Taverna, a restaurant about halfway between downtown and Casa LSD and coincidentally, maybe the best restaurant in Florence. Carrie has put the owner of La Taverna under her spell (not too hard to do) and has brought them tons of business with her summer program so they pretty much give her whatever she wants. Keeping all this in mind, Ciambella and I readily accepted the offer to join Carrie.

Ciambella and I hopped on her bike (with me sitting on the metal rack on the back—ouch) and we were on our way. We ran into Vanessa Avery just around the corner from the bike parking lot. She is also working with Carrie in the summer program. Tonight her job was to stroll around town looking for kids in the program who might be drinking. As of the time that we saw her she hadn’t made any busts.

We bumped our way over the cobblestone streets of Florence, down the Arno to La Taverna. Ciambella was huffing and puffing from the physical exertion and my rump was in some serious pain. Mercifully, soon we were peddling by Carrie and her boss, Shawn, who were sitting outside enjoying wine and dinner. We stood in the street like hobos talking to them for way too long until the group of teenage Italians sitting next to them finally left so that we could take their seats.

Three bottles of Prosecco and one massive desert plate later…

Ok. So the night was a blast. Shawn took off not long after he finished his dinner and the ladies got down to business. The owner of the restaurant (the one who loves Carrie) brought out bottle after bottle of Prosecco (Italian champagne), which we enjoyed a bit too much, along with a huge plate full of brownie cake, orange cream pie, cheesecake, and a variety of other mind-blowingly delicious items. Next thing we knew we were playing “poker” (if you could call it that) and laughing so hard that we got a noise complaint from someone in the neighborhood. It was so fun. I hadn’t seen Carrie in a long time and it was great to spend time with her.

When the restaurant closed we went inside with all the restaurant workers. Everyone was sitting in groups chatting and playing cards. Ciambella and I had come prepared: we brought some cards from home—not my special Grandma cards, of course. So as we sat there surrounded by the kitchen workers and the wait staff and the owners, the three of recalled the immortal words of Ron Burgandy and said, “When in Rome…” (“Yes, go on.”) We played Liar and Speed until Ciambella was for all intents and purposes asleep in her chair and the clock stuck 3am. Finally we resigned ourselves to the fact that the night was officially over.

Or was it?

On the way out of the restaurant, Ciambella sagely decided that she had had too much to drink to ride her bike. Like a moron I suggested that I drive her bike back. She agreed with me that this was wise. I should note at this point that not only had I had too much to drink as well, but I also haven’t really ridden a bike since, oh, I don’t know, 1992. Alright, so I hopped on and Ciambella climbed on to the back. I was showing promise of being the next Lance Armstrong for approximately 6 feet before I crashed into a pole. Not so great as these things go.

So we walked the bike across the road.

Then, thinking I had learned a few things, I suggested that I try again. Ciambella agreed that this was wise. I hopped on the bike and she climbed on to the back. This ride went much smoother for maybe as far as 35 feet before I couldn’t help but go careening out of control into a wall with Ciambella flying off the back of the bike with the grace of a drunken acrobat. I got an owie on my hand.

So after that we walked the remainder of the trip. It was about 3:30 in the a.m. by the time we reached La Scala. We were quiet as mice as we say our goodnights and went on to bed.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

For some reason Ciambella and I were a little slow going this morning. She was headed to I Tatti and I was off to the Dutch Institute. We were still dragging our sad bodies around the apartment at 10:30. Finally she made it out the door and I was soon to follow.

I had never been to the Dutch Institute and didn’t really know where it was so today was all about discovery and adventure. Carrie had advised me last night that I needed to take the 13 bus there and the 12 bus back. Ok. I can do this. That is very helpful information. So I wandered around Ponte alle Grazie for a while looking for the number 13 bus stop, which I found (hurray me) and I waited and waited in the very hot mid-day sun until it finally arrived.

Once on the bus I just tried to keep my eye out for what looked like a nice place to put a Dutch library for art historical study. I knew from Vanessa Avery that I needed to go past the Piazza Michelangelo one or two stops so that helped too. I also knew that I needed to find a piazza with a statue in it and take a street by that piazza. So as we went past the Piazza Michelangelo, around the twists and turns of the road, up and up and up the hill, around more turns, and—WHOA—there went a piazza with a statue in it. Ok. So I missed it. No biggie.

I pressed the “stop request” button and got out of my seat. Then my heart began to sink a little. Up in the hills the bus stops seem to be much farther apart then they are in the city. We were winding around and around and around until we started to go down the hill. “Huh, this will be no fun,” I thought. The bus soon pulled over to the bus stop and I went to the door. The door open for long enough that I could see the outside world, but not long enough that I could transverse the two feet to the exit. The bus driver was insane! I just shut the doors before I could get off and took off again. So I marched right up to him and said (in my pathetically broken Italian) “I just requested that stop!” “I opened the doors,” he said. “I couldn’t even get off!” I might have said. (I don’t really know. I was flustered and my Italian is really shaky anyway.) He shrugged and basically told me that he couldn’t open the doors now because we were moving and I just had to wait for the next stop. I did wait, sending vibes of anger to the bus driver the whole time.

The bus traveled further and further down the hill, farther and farther away from the piazza with the statue in it. It was not cool.

Finally he reached the next stop and let me off. I turned right back in the direction from which I had just come and started my hike. I hiked up the hill and around the turns, huffing and puffing until I finally came upon the piazza that I needed. And just like that I found my street.

I knew that the Dutch Institute was down a little ways on the left so it wasn’t hard to find. When I arrived I rang the buzzer at the gate. Nothing happened. I rang again. Nothing. I waited awkwardly for a bit and I rang again. The latch snapped and the gate opened. Ok. I can do this.

A very confused-looking woman greeted me at the door. She told me that the library didn’t open until 2 (it was about 1:40), but that she would let me in anyway. We went off in search of my book. After quite a long time she found it and I planted myself at a desk. Their copier was broken so I ended up transcribing about 7 pages of the book (it was in French and I didn’t have time to translate the whole thing properly). All the while the room in which I was sitting began to fill with more confused-looking Dutch people who all stared at the imposter (me) out of the corners of their eyes until finally I couldn’t take the awkwardness anymore and decided to just request the book from Interlibrary Loan. Whew! That place is weird.

So when I was leaving I felt like I had been a total imposition to the woman who let me in. She seemed quite relieved that the stranger was leaving. I went to the gate and stood there for some time suddenly confused myself. I had no idea who to unlock the door. I couldn’t find a button anywhere. I walked back to the main building and buzzed the door. The woman came back, still confused but now a little annoyed too, and said, “you just need to push the white button!” and shut the door. Ok. I see. So I walked back to the gate and searched until I found a white button hidden under the heavily-overgrown ivy. The latch released and I was expelled into the world, free from the clutches of the Dutch.

I found my bus stop, the number 12, and waited patiently. A young Italian girl soon joined my sit-in on the bench and we waited in silence. The bus rounded the corner. We both stood and held up an arm to call for the stop. The bus flew right by. Uhhh…. The Italian girl and I looked at each other, bewildered. The bus got stopped at a red light. We saw our chance and ran to the bus with our arms flailing desperately. The bus driver never budged and the bus left us standing in stunned silence on the side of the road. Alrighty… This has been a very weird day.

The Italian girl sighed and went back to the bench while I opted for walking. I wasn’t sure how far out of town I was, but it was a beautiful day and the area up by the weird Dutch Institute is really nice. I talked to my mom for a bit on the phone as I walked down the shaded hill, past the Piazza Michelangelo (where I bought a massive lemon-flavored granita) and down into Florence. It only took me about 40 minutes to walk back to the apartment. Considering how things were going today, my walk home was a nice break from the madness.

My afternoon was quiet from then on out. Chris got home around 5:45 and Ciambella followed at around 6. We had dinner over some Italian news until I could no longer keep my eyes open. I laid down in bed with my book and passed out before I knew it. A girl needs some sleep after such a big day of discovery and adventure.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

As usual, I was late in arriving to I Tatti today despite my 15 hours of sleep last night. When I strolled in I dropped my stuff off at my desk and promptly found Ciambella and Dan who were on their way to the granaio for a mid-morning coffee break. So naturally I joined them.

We got our dose of espresso and sunshine before heading back to the library where they continued their research and I began mine. Today was a struggle. I was having a terrible time translating. It seems that after about 3 weeks of translations my brain is starting to get a little tired. Our lunch break at 1:30 gave my tired brain a short break, but sadly it wasn’t long before I was right back where I started: hunched over my desk pulling my hair out.

So I did that until 5:10. That was the appointed time for Ciambella, Dan and I to run away from I Tatti. We were joined by Chris and the four of us went on to the bus and then on to downtown. We went first to the Odeon where we picked up our tickets for tonight’s 8pm showing of The Dark Knight. Tickets in hand, it was back to the apartment to deposit our bags before moving on to Casa di Sizzle for dinner before the show. I got a cheese quesadilla and it was wonderful, thanks for asking.

Thanks to wonderful Francesco, the owner, who always takes good care of us, we were out of there in plenty of time to make it back to the theater for the movie. Clark met us there with a lady (“Ooo… it’s a lady!”) and Sebastian showed up just in the knick of time.

So, since some people in this world may not have watched the movie yet (though I would find that hard to believe in light of their ticket sales), I will keep my comments censored. Let me just say that it was dark. Very dark. I felt like I needed to wash my brain out with soap afterwards. Despite that, I liked it. I am sad to report that there were no assassin weavers in this one.

After the movie the day was done. And so goodnight to you all. I’m sure I will not have happy dreams tonight.

Friday, July 18, 2008

I am grumpy today. When I woke up my body was screaming in anger. My head hurt, my muscles were sore, I was really, really not very happy. I don’t know what the problem was. Part of it I suppose was that last night the neighbors (the ones who used to make cat noises and now just make tons of general noise) were having a party. How lovely for them. I slept in my earplugs again. I don’t know if that was it or what, but today I was not amused.

I had planned on leaving early so that I could make a stop by the school to print up some of my notes taken this week at I Tatti. I have a tough time reading my notes off my computer. I like to have a hardcopy. Well, that didn’t happen. It took me forever to get moving this moving. It was one of those days when there is one more thing—just one more thing—to do before taking off. When I was just about ready to go I realized that I hadn’t made my lunch yet. So then there was that. My plan to leave by 9 was a total failure as I didn’t get out the door until 11:30.

I made a stop by the bar on the corner with Chris so that he could get some money on his brand new cell. That whole process took longer than I had anticipated. Then he went home and I went off to the bus stop. On my way there I ran into a communist party political rally/parade down Via Calzaiuli (I was not amused by this either). Hurray for the right to public assembly, but really! Did they have to have their shindig today? So that’s an issue. It’s been my experience that political rallies/parades hold up the buses. (I’m sure Lenin would be proud.) Yeah… so that was annoying. It took me forever to get around the masses of whistle-blowing, flag-waving hordes. I couldn’t go to my usual bus stop because of the parade so I went on to San Marco to catch the bus there. It, naturally, was late thanks to the Reds.

My bus ride there was an adventure. There was about a 50 year difference between me and the next youngest rider. Apparently all the youngsters were at the rally. The bus driver had no sympathy for the old people on board. He was jolting the whole lot around with reckless abandon. By the time I climbed out of the bus by I Tatti I was grumpy, sweating, and thoroughly sick to my stomach. I climbed the hill to I Tatti only to reach to closed gate to the parking lot at the top. Usually the doors open right after we arrive. The guards see us and let us in right away. Not today, my friend, not today. I stood outside the gate ringing the buzzer (which I’ve never done before) incessantly as I cooked in the already hot sunshine.

My morning was spent struggling through a French article about something, I don’t know what. Argh. I’m a little mad at it actually. I’m usually pretty decent at reading French, but this author is ridiculous! I’m having to look up every word and I don’t even know for sure if it will be of any use to me when I’m done. In the two hours from when I arrived (at noon!!) and when I left for lunch (at 2) I only got through two pages. Two pages! And the worst part is? No chocolate. (Note to self: Always pack chocolate in lunch in case of emergencies.) Hum… I wonder why I’m grumpy. I have some guesses.

So right now it’s 3:30 and I’m taking a little break from my advance French translation. I am planning on remaining optimistic (yeah, right) that the afternoon will be better than the morning. I’ll let you know…

I was forced by my own foul temperament to leave I Tatti around 5. Chris was at the school’s library and I had originally planned on getting off the bus by school, meeting up with him there, and going to the grocery store. In light of my mood I figured that the grocery store would be a very, very bad idea so I went on home instead.

I had a few moments of calm before Ciambella and Chris came home. I made a dinner of risotto with pancetta, tomatoes, onions, garlic, and basil with a side of beige bread product. It was actually pretty good. Chris and I watched You’ve Got Mail and lounged around until about 10pm. It was time to go. Ciambella, Chris and I had a very special plan for the evening.

The three of us took off (with me stopping at Gelateria Neri for some much-needed sugar). We were in search of a troupe of traveling street performers. Ciambella had found them last night and had perked my interest. She told us that they were dressed like weird clown-type people and that they squeaked and used cars as props. We looked at the Ponte Vecchio. We checked the Piazza Repubblica. We managed to find the Charlie Chaplin guy though. (On a side note, when I was here in 2003 I watched the Charlie Chaplin guy from my hotel window. My friends and I were shouting out to him and after a while he got a little annoyed so he got the entire crowd to turn in unison, point to us and shout ‘oy!’ I almost fell out the window down to Via Calzaiuoli far below.) In all our searching we were not able to find the clown people. We gave up our search. Since it was such a gorgeous night we all opted to walk around a bit longer just because.

We walked out of the piazza, probably only about a block, when we suddenly heard a strange sound. Could it be? Yes! A squeak! And another! And another! And just like that we found them. There were four guys, two did all the performing while the other two primed the crowd and went around for money. The two main guys wore strange red, yellow, and black jumpsuits, clown shoes, white face paint, clown noses, and sported crazy hairstyles. They squeaked like dog toys. (We were never able to figure out how they made that sound. We thought that maybe they had squeakers in their mouths, but after the show Ciambella talked to one of them and he transitioned from squeaking to talking without taking anything out of his mouth or changing anything. It was crazy.) Their squeaking was perfecting understandable as a language. You could understand them when they said “Taxi!” or “please?” or “oh, no!”

They would hop on the backs of random people riding by on bikes (seriously!) and hang on to the backs of cars while they were drug along for a bit. They would stop cars and taxis (to varying degrees of pleasure and annoyance for the drivers) and hold up traffic while they acted out clearly communicated scenes, spoken entirely in squeak language. When the Smart cars (these really tiny, goofy looking cars that are very popular over here) would drive by they would make fun of them. Nice cars, like Alfa Romeos would get bowed to. They would hop on garbage trucks or try to get in the cab. They would try to get on city buses (the bus drivers were NOT amused at all). At one point two guys drove up in one of the old, original Minis and the two clowns freaked out. They stopped the car, kicked the passenger out (who was laughing hysterically), then one clown climbed in, put on a sash, stood up and through the sunroof, waving to the crowd in a brilliant Miss America/royalty imitation. Meanwhile the other clown marched alongside the car holding an invisible machine gun as he “guarded” his charge. The whole time this was going on the two guys in the car were cracking up. Fortunately, Ciambella got the whole thing on video. I know I’m not doing it any justice. It was by far the most brilliant street performance I have ever seen.

After the show ended we walked around for a bit more before deciding to hit up Angie’s Pub for a beer. The restaurants on Neri put tables out at night for their customers and Angie’s happened to have an available table. It was fate. The three of us sat outside talking. Well, Ciambella and I talked about our gestures while Chris stared at us bored out of his mind.

An alarm filled the air. Lights flickered off the buildings. Oh, no. This could only mean one thing: an ambulance was coming. With the tables stretched far out into the road, no passage would be possible for a vehicle. Maybe he’ll turn, we all thought collectively. The ambulance rounded the bend in Via dei Neri and our worst fears were confirmed: he needed to pass. Suddenly all the bar’s patrons leapt up in choreographed unison and began moving the tables and chairs ahead of the ambulance’s path. I’ve never seen anything like it. As soon as the ambulance had past we all put the tables and chairs back where they were and went back to our drinks and conversations, with everyone giggling a bit at what had just happened. Not long after that excitement, Ciambella, Chris and I decided to call it a day and we headed the half a block back from Angie’s to La Scala.

I have to say that it was about this time that I realized something: I wasn’t grumpy. In fact, I had been laughing my head off. The weird Neo-Nazi, punk clowns made me happy tonight. And so thank you weird clown people—you saved my day.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

This morning Ciambella, Chris and I decided to go to the Mercato Centrale, the central market, over by San Lorenzo. Chris had never been there before and Ciambella and I always plan on going there for great deals on produce and cheese, but rarely actually get over there.

After breakfast we all trekked over. Ah, how I love the market. You can find some amazing deals. For instance, at one stall I bought a bundle of green onions, some parsley, and two huge red peppers for less than 2 euro. I also picked up some peaches, strawberries, black berries, parmesan cheese, mozzarella cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and basil. It was a very successful trip to the market.

Chris and I had planned on going to the Laurentian library at San Lorenzo, but unfortunately it’s closed on Saturdays so we scratched that idea. As a consolation prize we went instead to Foot Locker (real Italian, huh?) and bought Chris some new sandals. We then took all our loot back to La Scala before hitting the town again.

We went to Orsanmichele to see the tabernacle that I presented on back before Spring Break. It’s pretty cool in there. Plus it’s free. We wandered over to the Piazza Repubblica and the bookstore, Edison, ostensibly to find a copy of Chris’ soccer magazine Four Four Two. Well, they didn’t have that, but we did get to spend some quality time surrounded by crispy new books. I even found something special: a book called Il gesto nell’arte. This isn’t just your run-of-the-mill book about gesture in the Renaissance—no! There is an entire section all about my gesture. Sure, it sounds nice, but there is some danger there. If someone has already written on my gesture, what I have to say might not be new. So with a heavy, but intrigued heart I purchased the book. I also picked up a couple of books for my niece Mac and my upcoming nephew, Jack. It’s never too early to learn your colors and animals in Italian, that’s what I always say. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever said that…

Then it was off to Santa Trinita so that the Chris could see the sight of the carnage left in the wake that is the Captain. (Please see past entries for the horrifying classes with the Captain at the beginning of the semester.) We saw the Sassetti Chapel, one of the gems of the 15^th century. I lectured a bit on the life of St. Francis as portrayed in the scenes in the chapel. We stayed in there for a while before heading back out into the Florentine sunshine.

With some sightseeing under our belt it was time to be residents again. We went to the grocery store to pick up those things we couldn’t get from the market. Once back home for the evening it was a dinner of soup and non-beige bread product over a movie. Chris and I started watching The Best of Youth. It’s an Italian movie (with English subtitles fortunately) that happens to be 6 hours long. I’d heard so much about it from Ciambella and tonight I couldn’t wait any longer to watch it.

So at the end of my very full day, Chris and I are going to relax and spend the rest of our evening in Movieland. Good night to you all from Italy.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Our plan to go to mass this morning didn’t work out. Mainly because I have no idea what time mass is so I didn’t know when we should leave. (Must remember to check mass times before next Sunday.) Instead, we had a fairly lazy morning of reading, with Chris reading some book about modern engineering marvels and me trying to read my new gesture book without the assistance of wordreference.com.

The air is pretty cool today, considering. I was very comfortable and enjoying a nice breeze in the living room this morning when I ate my bowl of coconut yogurt (my new favorite flavor), banana, strawberries, and blackberries. By noon we were all in our own little worlds of reading, studying, and (for me) blogging. Suddenly it was lunch time. I made Chris and I salad masterpieces, pulling out every type of veggie that we had and we had many thanks to yesterday’s trip to the market. It was delicious. I just finished mine up and am quite satisfied.

Now that it’s 1:30 I should get going. Chris and I are off to Santa Croce for some sightseeing. He mentioned last weekend that he hadn’t had the chance to see anything in Florence yet and we can’t have that. And so we’re off. A dopo.

Well, Chris and I went to Santa Croce today. I’ve been there a million times at this point, but it was his first visit. That’s always fun. It’s a gorgeous church and it’s easy for me to forget it. I wonder to myself as we walk through these churches, museums, and cities, “just how annoying am I when I spout off random facts about artists, architecture, tramezzi, and restoration practices?” Chris is nice and patient though. He seems to understand how much I enjoy listening to myself ramble on.

After Santa Croce it was time for some slow strolling back to the apartment. We were both pretty tired and opted to just go back to La Scala instead of being active today. It got too hot this afternoon. We spent our afternoon like couch potatoes with Chris reading a Florence travel guide and me watching Il Letto con Il Nemico, also known as Sleeping with the Enemy. When that ended I made a delicious veggie deep-dish pizza for dinner. We played some hands of gin—I’m now in the lead by 2 points!.

We’re getting ready to finish the rest of The Best of Youth so I’m going to call it a day. Good night to you all from beautiful Italy.

Monday, July 14, 2008

My darling husband did something amazing today and everyone should be very impressed. This morning he got up, went to the bar on the corner, bought his own bus tickets, and went off to work at I Tatti all by himself. You should all be impressed because here’s this guy who just moved to Italy, doesn’t speak any of the language and is going out there and taking care of his business. I think that’s pretty brave. I’m proud of him. Plus, he looked super hot today.

I didn’t make it to I Tatti until about 10:30 because I’m a big bum. Once there I wasted most of my time doing everything other than research. It was mind-numbing. The only good thing about being at I Tatti today was checking out the new librarian, who, I repeat, was looking quite dashing.

I had lunch with Lara and Dan in the granaio. Rather, I ate lunch and they ate little snackies making me feel like a massive heifer, which was quite an accomplishment since all I had was a sandwich, a thing of yogurt, and some strawberries. Dan ate two apples (who eats two apples for lunch???) and Lara ate a peach and some air. Huh… Anyway, though there was an alarming shortage of food, the conversation was nice and we were all a little sad to leave the comfort of the armchairs in the granaio for the discomfort of our library desks.

My afternoon was much like my morning: not very productive, dominated by time wasting. In fact, I’m not entirely sure what I did today. It must not have been that great. Regardless, I know I left with Chris around 5. He went on to the school’s library for some Internet time and moved on home.

We had delicious piazza for dinner which we ate while watching The Holiday with Ciambella. Now the movie’s over and somehow my day has pasted me by. Sorry so dull. Hope you all had a more eventful Monday than I did. A domani.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Since yesterday was such a bust, I decided to stay home today. I have no idea how on earth that thinking makes any sense, but there it is. Besides, Ciambella and Chris both had to work today and that meant that I would have the chance to be home alone. I relish my alone time. When they left I took my dear, sweet time with everything I did. I took extra care in preparing my coffee. I made a breakfast burrito filled with scrambled egg happiness and a dash of love. I sang to the birds like Cinderella to those weird mice friends of hers. Ok, that was a lie, but I did take a shamefully long shower.

I did the dishes, which had inexplicably piled up during the night to horrifying proportions, proving that there is an evil gnome in our apartment dirtying up dishes as we sleep. I swept the floors in the entire apartment and even dusted the shelves in the living (the first time that’s been done since we moved in—it was gross). I did the laundry. I even did some research sort of. When I got tired of all that I moved on to my fun book, The Flight of the Romanovs. Ah, that reminds me. I have gotten some feedback from one of my loyal readers, a Mrs. Jennifer Grubb, about that book and yes, I’m enjoying it. I have to admit though, I got really upset today when all the Romanovs got wacked in 1918. Stupid Lenin. What a jerk. I feel so bad for those people who were pushed down into the canyon. What a bummer.

I was not researching, but instead reading about what a major turd Lenin was when Ciambella got home around 6. We had a little bit of time before Dan called saying that he would be downstairs in just a few minutes. So down we scurried down the 76 steps. The three of us went over to Mavi for some delicious ka-toms. I hadn’t even taken three bites when I started pouring ka-tom oil all over my shirt (–and my chin. Ciambella saved me from certain embarrassment when she advised me that a drip of oil was moving down my chin on route to my neck. Very classy.). After eating we went to the Odeon theater to buy our tickets for tonight’s showing of Sex and the City. Lara was loitering outside the theater when we arrived. (Chris didn’t make it out for our movie night. He went to the school’s library from I Tatti today to get some posting done.)

We went in and bought our tickets. I first dropped my student ID on the ground, then a euro, then my museum pass. The movie wasn’t for about 2 more hours so we headed out for a stroll around town at which time I attempted to open my Coke, which exploded all over me. After wiping the Coke off my hands and face I tried to drink my pop, but actually just poured it down my chin. It was at about this time that it occurred to me that today might not be my day. Fortunately it was going to get better.

We walked back to Via dei Neri so that Lara could drop off her bag and we could all hit up Gelateria Neri for some sugary delights. After that stop we moved over to the Uffizi were we spent the next hour and half sitting on the steps, laughing hysterically and acting like fools. We watched the cat and mouse game between the carbiniari and the dudes illegally selling fake designer purses and horribly ugly prints of “art” (I say “art” because though there is occasionally a print of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, most of the delightful little masterpieces are of naked ladies or horses running or something weird like that). You see, the people hawking cheap crap on the streets aren’t supposed to be doing that and I suspect that many of them are in Italy illegally so when the cops show up they all scurry. It’s really almost poetic in its precision.

We were entertained by two little boys who were energetically dancing to the nightly live music taking place nearby. They were probably about 3 and 5 or so and I’m willing to bet that they were seriously hopped up on sugar. We threw down some guesses as to how many gelatos they had had today. It was wonderfully entertaining. There were some American girls sitting next to us on the steps enjoying the show too. When the family and the performing boys walked on we all clapped and yelled out as we laughed “Bravi! Bravi!” The oldest boy looked over at us, raised his hands in the air, nodded his head, and started clapping right along: a born performer.

Our conversation tonight on the steps was more entertaining than I think I could ever describe. Dan was kind of tipsy from some pre-ka-tom beers, I was a raging klutz, Lara was being particularly feisty, and Ciambella was balancing somewhere between being really moody, half dead, and slap happy. The result was a cornucopia of uncontrollable giggling, immature jokes, and random thoughts. At one point, after a particularly loud and obnoxious howling laugh, someone nearby cackled back in mockery of us. Of course, that only made us laugh harder. Wow. You know you’re being annoying when you get cackled at by strangers.

Our giggle fest on the steps of the Uffizi ended around 9 when we headed on over to the theater. The movie was pretty funny. There were a few parts where I laughed so hard I actually cried. My eyes started failing me during the movie, however, which was unfortunate. You see, Ciambella has been complaining that her eyes have been bothering her for a few days now and tonight my eyes started bothering me. They were burning and leaking the entire movie. I must have looked really emotional. By the time we were walking home we were still slap happy and I was virtually blind.

I felt sorry for Chris by the time we got back. It was after midnight and Ciambella and I were in that weird place between hyped-up on caffeine and exhausted. Oh, well. That’s the price that Chris has to pay if he’s going to live with a couple chicks. Anyway, that was my day. Now it’s over. Goodnight everyone.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

This morning hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt horrible. My eyes were still hurting. I could feel every muscle in my back. The light coming in through the window was punishing me for something though I have no idea what. There was a marching band in my kitchen. At least, it sounded like there was a marching band in my kitchen. I think it might have just been Ciambella and Chris getting ready for the day. Apparently what I was experiencing was a laughter hangover. I laughed so hard last night I wore myself out. Not such a bad thing after all, now that I think of it.

Chris left for I Tatti and Ciambella left for school. My big plan to hop out of bed and get ready quickly didn’t quite work out. I didn’t actually leave for I Tatti until after 10. Yikes.

A mad scientist sat across from me on the bus today. He was tall, probably about 6’4” or so, gangly, and completely unsure about what to do with his hands. His salt and pepper uncombed hair was matched in tousled glory only by his untamed eyebrows which projected precariously out from his furrowed brow. He wore wire-rimmed glassed on his large, aquiline nose, which in its turn shielded an impressive collection of escaping nose hair. He looked thoroughly disheveled from top to toe and his face was a treasure trove of distinctive emotions: one moment inquisitive, the next confused, the next worried, the next reading something of a moment of epiphany. In his arms was a large book covered with stars and bound together by masking tape which curled at the edges. It was called “L’altra Dimensione: The Big Book.” Ah… A book about space. Of course! I watched him closely afraid that if I looked away I might miss a big moment of revelation when the light bulb suddenly went off and he would pull a permanent marker out of his protected pocket and excitedly turn in his seat so that he could scribble a series of equations on the bus window, always being cognizant of the continuity of seismicity and remembering to account for pi. Sadly, that never happened. But the hope of such an outcome kept me entertained as the bus driver jerked the bus back and forth around the streets and up the hill to I Tatti.

I got to the library around 11. Since it’s the summer and none of the fellows are here my delinquence didn’t result in the loss of a good seat. I took my normal place, checked my email quickly, and got to work. And I really got to work this time. In fact, I’d even say that I had a very productive day. I was pretty wrapped up in my research until about 1 when Lara and I went to the granaio for lunch. Chris joined us for a little bit after he was done with his snobby staff lunch. I took my double shot of espresso like a champ and returned to my desk for an afternoon of research.

My afternoon research followed the pattern of this morning: productive and interesting. I don’t think that there are words to explain how nice it is to have a good day of research. It can get pretty frustrating when you spend day after day of nothing new. When Chris was finished with work around 5 he hopped on the Internet on my computer while I stared at him until he finally said he was ready to go. We left with Lara and just missed our bus. Fortunately, the temperatures have broken from the extreme heat of a couple of weeks ago. Now it is only in the upper 80’s.

Once back in centro, downtown, Chris and I stopped by a Wind store to get him a phone. Wind is one of the cell phone service carriers, like Cingular or something. That task completed it was off to Neri where we picked up some veggies at the grocery store and had an extra set of keys made for him. Tasks two and three accomplished. Then I got my multiple-ride bus pass. Task four completed! Holy wow. I love productive days.

I made a red sauce with pasta for dinner tonight and taught Chris how to play gin. It pains me to say that as of today, I am losing by about 10 points. In the words of the immortal Mr. Miyagi, “You beginner luck.” After that it was to the hobbit hole for me and my nightly blogging. Now it’s 10pm and I would love to get some sleep tonight. I’m planning another big day of learning excitement at I Tatti tomorrow and I need my rest. Until tomorrow, good night.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Today was a day of questions. Questions asked and questions answered. In today’s post I will attempt to answer the following questions:

1. Is the writer of this blog German?

2. Is there a uniform for Syracuse University grad students studying at I Tatti?

3. Is the writer of this blog married to her brother?

4. If you are driving down a street and you see someone walking along the side of the road do you try to avoid him or her or do you try to run them over?

Ok. So it all started this morning when I was on my way to I Tatti for another day of research and learning discovery. Chris was already there. I didn’t get out the door until after 10. The late departure time is frustrating as I always punish myself thinking, “If only I had that extra 45 minutes this morning! Think of what I could have found!” The good thing about leaving late is that the bus is virtually empty. I was able to camp out in a seat (a rare thing on the bus) and rock out to my Simon and Garfunkel on my mp3 player (as much as one can “rock out” to Simon and Garfunkel) without having to worry about jumping out of my seat at the first sign of an old person climbing on board.

But an old man did board the bus. He was approximately 173 years old and looked like he might fall over any minute. His eyes were lively, though, and he spent most of his time on the bus taking in everyone around him, including me. I could tell that he was just dying to ask me a question, but since it was too early (har har) for me to speak Italian I pretended to be oblivious. I know, I know. I’m a jerk. I should have talked to the old man, right? Well, don’t worry, he got his chance. As the bus rounded the corner before my stop I got out of my seat and he jumped at the opportunity to ask me that question that had been occupying his mind for the duration of the trip. With a wide grin he asked me (in heavily accented Italian), “You’re a foreigner, aren’t you?” “Yes,” I said. “Ahhh… German!” he responded proudly, undoubtedly thrilled to learn that all this time he had been observing a real-live German, just as he suspected. “No, I’m sorry, I’m an American,” was my response, though even now I don’t know why I apologized. He seemed only mildly disappointed as he wished me a sweet, sincere, “Welcome to my country” as I hopped off the bus.

So, in response to Question 1: No, the writer of this blog is not German. Despite my German-accented Italian or my apparent German looks. Despite my last name. Despite my love of beer. Despite my Lutheranism. Despite all of these things, I am, in fact, an American living in Italy.

Chris was waiting in the reception area of I Tatti when I finally arrived. He gave me a “tsk-tsk” as I trudged through the door panting like a dog (the walk up the hill to I Tatti was particularly difficult today). I rolled my eyes at him and took my seat at my trusty desk. I was on a mission today. Yesterday I had found several articles from journals that I need to read and four of them were actually at I Tatti so today I was prepared to get down to business. That’s how I spent the entirety of my time this morning and this afternoon.

Since my life is not all that glamorous and can be downright boring at most times, I figured I would fill this interlude with some pictures of I Tatti. I mean, I talk about this place all the time and I thought that you might be interested in knowing what it looks like. There are a lot of different areas of the library, but the one that I sit in all the time is called the New Library, though I don’t know why that is. Mine is the first desk upon entering the library. I spend my time hunched over the desktop racking my brain over complex ideas and foreign languages. I realize that it looks cozy in the picture and I suppose it is for the first five hours of my day.

One of my favorite parts of I Tatti is the cats. There are two cats that call the library their home. They, sadly, don’t come inside and so spend their days lounging around from shadowed spot to shadowed spot waiting for attention and food from anyone willing to provide it—which is almost everyone. My favorite of the two cats is a not-so-little

orange and white cat whom I have affectionately dubbed “Half Nose” on account of his rather disgusting half nose. He doesn’t meow. He croaks. Lightly touching the top of his head illicits a guttural “Mwe-arrr.” He’s pretty gross looking and kind of dirty, but I love him. He often takes breaks from his busy schedule of laying in the shadows in order to stand at the front door of the library and stare in at all who pass by. He really is completely adorable. The other cat looks like the devil. I don’t like him and haven’t taken any pictures of him. We have named him Whole Nose Grumpy Pants. All it would take is a little bit of attention paid to me and he would find himself gloriously in my good graces. Until that time, I will continue to vilify him in cyberspace.

At around 1:30 Lara and I went to our lockers to retrieve our lunches. We noticed once we were standing next to each other that we were wearing almost identical outfits: Black cap sleeve shirts with dark grey long shorts and black flip flops. This was the second time in the last week that we have found ourselves wearing almost identical clothes. We laughed it off and decided that this was the new uniform for I Tatti. When we later saw Tom wearing a navy blue short sleeve polo shirt and stone colored long shorts we mocked him for his pathetic attempt at wearing the I Tatti uniform which we had so beautifully mastered. So, yes, in answer to Question number 2, there is a uniform and it’s awesome.

It was around the time of the uniform revelation that the guard posed a very unusual question to me: “Is your brother going with you?” Uh… what? What was he talking about? Going where? Did I ever mention my brother to this guy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before. In the words of Meg Ryan in French Kiss, “What’s happening? What’s happening?” It suddenly dawned on me that he wasn’t giving me the key to the ganaio (where we eat lunch) because he thought that Chris was going with us and Chris has his own key. “Uh, no. That’s my husband.” I laughed. He got embarrassed, I felt bad for laughing, and he told me that he saw that we had the same surname and just assumed. (Must remember to kiss Chris more frequently at I Tatti.) Question #3: No, the writer of this blog is not married to her brother.

My afternoon was spent silently reading about silent reading and trying not to fall asleep. Chris took off just before 5 so that he could get into the library at school for some Internet time. I stuck around until just before 6 when Lara and I had finally had enough learning and decided to leave. While the walk up the hill to I Tatti in the morning can be exhausting, the walk down in the afternoon can be nearly impossible. In the morning at least we are filled with stupid optimism that today we will research well and persevere through the hardships of learning, but in the afternoons you’re dead tired, you’re gripped with the realization that you just spent 8 hours learning next to nothing, your back hurts, your eyes are seconds away from falling out of your head and you just know that you won’t make it in time to the bus stop and will end up sitting at the bus stop for the next 20 minutes, marinating in the blazing late-afternoon sun next to some nasty guy who’s chain smoking and spitting on the pavement.

It was on this arduous trip down the hill when Lara and I, struggling to not fall over, found ourselves playing the usual game of chicken with the cars flying around the turns of the winding road. While on one of the straightaway a car up ahead drove in our direction and edged closer and closer to us as he approached. In my fatigue I lazily thought, “huh… that guy’s gonna run Lara over.” Neither she nor I made any exerted effort to move (seeing as how we were walking on the edge of the street and there were no other cars around leaving plenty of room for a car we didn’t think it necessary). Well, by the time that guy passed us he cleared Lara’s bag by maybe 10 inches. Groggy and confused we attempted to come to grips with what had just happened. He really did go out of his way to almost hit us, didn’t he? Weird. Must not like Germans. So, the answer to number 4 is, if you see two girls walking down the street you try to hit them with your car, not avoid them. This has been very informative.

I had about an hour at home to myself before Ciambella and Chris showed up. Everyone seems a little grumpy, which is always nice. Right before they arrived I had gotten a call from Tom who was in centro and was wanted to come over to have a beer. So before long Tom, Ciambella, Chris and I were hanging out in the kitchen drinking beer and talking about school. Chris and I took off around 9 to go have dinner at Casa di Sizzle. I had a hankering for some nachos. After our dinner we walked around for a little bit before returning to La Scala for the night.

And so there it is. Tomorrow promises to be another exciting day of research so I better get my rest. Good night to you all; I’ll write again tomorrow.