Different Names For The Same Things

Alone on a train aimless in wonder
An outdated map crumbled in my pocket
But I didn't care where I was going
'Cause they're all different names for the same place.

The coast disappeared when the sea drowned the sun
And I knew no words to share with anyone
The boundaries of language I quietly cursed
And all the different names for the same thing

There are different names for the same things
There are different names for the same things...

happiness comes

"Today is the day that I've waited for" I thought to myself. My toes buried in sand. My back slightly arched and my weight resting on both elbows. My face towards the sun. I looked around and saw a small amount of people scattered down the shore. One man sitting fully clothed only a few feet away from the water. His legs crossed and his gaze fixated in a book. He looked as though he had been sitting there for hours and prepared to sit there for many more. He looked so comfortable. Another woman was tanning about 10 ft away from me while her daughter (who reminded me of Mowgli from the Jungle Book) was running around topless, playing in the sand. The water was cerulean blue and lazy with no direction or urge. The sun was warm but a light breeze relieved the heat, creating the perfect temperature. I can't remember what song was playing on my ipod but I'm sure it was perfect for the emotions I was feeling. Those emotions including: enlightened, content, euphoric. I thought about the long shower I was going to take post beach, the lunch I was going to eat, the language lesson I had later and the long walk I was planning after that. I had the freedom of TIME. One day during the week that was unexpectedly mine. A day that I took total control of. My first amazing day in Italy. It only took 46 days.

trying to be better

I have noticed that I really am trying to better myself here. Minus my gluttony with Italian cuisine, I truly am trying to better myself. For example:

I haven't touched a cigarette in over 10 days. (Before that, it was literally 1 cigarette per week, usually on a Sunday night, with a glass of wine) And I don't even miss it! Actually, that's a lie, sometimes I do, but I don't dwell on it, therefore I am better than it! Arrivederci, addiction!

I have been flossing almost everyday. Fuck yeah, dental hygiene!

I go running/walking everyday. Sometimes it's hard to drag myself away from the couch when no one is home during the day, but surely when 10pm comes around, I want a powerwalk before bed. I never exercised in LA. Oh, and I do situps and pushups and squats while I watch re-runs of Ally McBeal/Grey's Anatomy/ANTM.

I have been reading like crazy. Granted, "like crazy" doesn't mean "very fast" in this case, but I read every night before bed and during the day if I have time. There was a 2 week period where I was without a book and I felt antsy. I am upset that there's no book stores with English books here. I'm also upset that the likelihood of a book being stolen in the mail is quite high. I need more books in my life.

I am attempting to learn Italian. I am trying but not trying too hard. This is indeed "lazy Amelia behavior" but I'm not beating myself up over it. Studying has never been my thing. Nor has learning a language. It took 3 years for me to pocket the itsy bitsy amount of Spanish I know and Italian is even harder. It's okay. I will/am learn some. I am perfectly okay with being that American girl with broken Italian. I don't speak Italian and you don't speak English....let's speak more with our hands. It's fun that way.

I am learning Patience. I am learning to take deep breaths and accept when certain problems don't belong to me. "It's not your problem, it's not your problem, it's not your problem" is what I have to repeat to myself all the time. This is 90% the case with the children. I am doing the best I can with what I have been given. It's not my responsibility to "change" these children from brats to angels. That is not a part of my job description. It is my responsibility not let it to drive me nuts. Deep breaths and move on.

There are probably more ways that I'm improving myself that I don't even know about. But I'm trying. I'm finally making a conscious effort to be a better person. It's silly to think that I'm not ALWAYS trying to do that as I should. There are probably also ways that I've yet to improve, things that I still need to work on. But that's okay too. We're all a work in progress. We do what we can.

Breakfast.

I just woke up from a dream where I magically landed somewhere in L.A. I asked myself how I could have possibly done this so quickly (coming from Italy) and then realized that it was, in fact, a dream. I said "whatever" to myself and took this opportunity to find myself a place to have an All-American breakfast. I quickly, like with super human speed, hurried down the street in search for a greasy spoon that would feed my craving. I wondered where I was and felt like I was somewhere near Culver City, or at least around that part of town and finally found the perfect place. I walked in, shaking in anticipation, knowing that my alarm would be sounding again any minute. I saw a woman, sitting in a booth alone, taking her time with her silver dollar pancakes. I stood in line to get take-out. I would never typically order take-out breakfast but I was under a serious time crunch here. That's when I realized that I too would order silver dollar pancakes so that when I was hastily and aggressively chowing down on this food, the silver dollars would be easier to down quickly than a full-sizer.
Oh, and 2 strips of bacon, extra crispy.
I waited in line behind some geriatric man who couldn't get his order right. I was doing a "i-have-to-pee" dance even though I didn't have to pee, I just had to taste this breakfast before my snooze expired and I had to really wake up. The man and the waitress at the counter were about to have an argument and I was just about to say something when...BEEEEEEEEEPPPPP!....BEEEEEEEEEPPPPP!.....BEEEEEEEEEPPPPP!

....fuckmylife...I was so close.

I rolled out of bed and walked out to greet the children with the standard "Buongiorno" and looked at the cake and the cookies and the biscotti waiting for me on the dining room table. Another morning filled with the sweetest breakfast imaginable.

Savory, damnit, I just want something savory.

I've been told to wait for Mr. Prince Filippo to wake up "naturally" so that I can take him to school....even if he is late...which he already is....


...I wish there was an emoticon to show how hard I'm rolling my eyes right now.

This post is dedicated to Erin Brown. I miss her a lot.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

California

Today I took a two hour long walk from Civitanova-Marche up to Civitanova Alta (the old/orginal Civitanova). There is a paved path that connects the two and some really beautiful scenery in between. I took my Diana and took some great shots (I hope). My ipod was in shuffle and out of the 1,500 songs I have on there right now, "California" by Joni Mitchell came on. Granted, I've heard that song many times before but I don't think I ever listened to it like I did today. It was so fitting and all I could think about was how I am going to listen to that song again in 5 months...when I'll actually be going home. I wonder how it will resonate then?
Joni knew what was up.

Sitting in a park in Paris, France
Reading the news and it sure looks bad
They won't give peace a chance
That was just a dream some of us had
Still a lot of lands to see
But I wouldn't want to stay here
It's too old and cold and settled in it's ways here
Oh, but California
California I'm coming home
I'm going to see the folks I dig
I'll even kiss a Sunset pig
California I'm coming home

I met a redneck on a Grecian isle
Who did the goat dance very well
He gave me back my smile
But he kept my camera to sell
Oh the rogue, the red red rogue
He cooked good omelettes and stews
And I might have stayed on with him there
But my heart cried out for you, California
Oh California I'm coming home
Oh make me feel good rock'n roll band
I'm your biggest fan
California, I'm coming home

Oh it gets so lonely
When you're walking
And the streets are full of strangers
All the news of home you read
Just gives you the blues
Just gives you the blues

So I bought me a ticket
I caught a plane to Spain
Went to a party down a red dirt road
There were lots of pretty people there
Reading Rolling Stone, reading Vogue
They said, "How long can you hang around?"
I said "a week, maybe two,
Just until my skin turns brown
Then I'm going home to California"
California I'm coming home
Oh will you take me as I am
Strung out on another man 
California I'm coming home

Oh it gets so lonely
When you're walking
And the streets are full of strangers
All the news of home you read
More about the war
And the bloody changes
Oh will you take me as l am?
Will you take me as l am?
Will you?

"don't think twice, it's alright"

You are what you eat and I'm a big loaf of bread

I am so full I think I might burst. It's been well over two hours since I ate and the feeling has only receded slightly. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

I made fajitas tonight and they were a smash. Everyone rejoiced. I wonder if it's as relieving for Italians to eat non-Italian food as it is for me. I feel like I was spoiled in LA, eating whatever kind of food I wanted, whenever. Now it's just carbs in various forms and lots of tomatoes. It was amazing for the first 2 weeks, but now I just want enchiladas and chicken tikka masala. Not together of course. Uggghhhhh, so fulll. 
And going on a diet here is impossible because you have an Italian mother constantly putting food in front of you and it's rude not to eat it. Fucked up logic.

Whatever, I can't even type. The food coma is totally taking over. Buona Notte.

Mementos

are really important to me. And yet, somehow, they have such an easy way of becoming painful.

When do you know whether you should keep or get rid of something that reminds you of a person who no longer exists? 

It's precious as an artifact. It's painful as a memory.

Fuck. 

Heal...re-open...heal...re-open.

tired

Fuck, I'm tired. Seriously, all I want to do in the tiny amount of free time I have during the day is sleep or read. Just being in bed in general is overall, nice. Yes, I should take walks, and I do. Yes, I should exercise, and I do. Just not....a lot. Not everrrryday. This town is so small, I think I've seen most of it already and besides, it's cold. I try to justify my laziness by telling myself, "Amelia, you will be outside all day everyday this summer! It's okay! Who wants to really go running in 50 degree weather?! No one! So you watch your 'America's Next Top Model' re-runs! And you finish your Eggers book! Because in a month, you'll be living at the beach."

That's fair right?

KIDS ARE EXHAUSTING. I'M TAKING A NAP.

Ancona

Claudia and I sipped mojitos as we wandered around the piazza, observing people and talking about fashion. I mentioned to her that I needed to invest in more sophisticated underwear. I think she laughed but argued that cotton panties covered in stars and/or hearts were perfectly acceptable for day to day wear. I watched in awe as a girl in 5 inch platform heels clung to her best friends' arm, trying to keep her balance while tip-toeing on the cobblestone street. I laughed out loud, grateful to be in boots.

We walked through small but well lit alleys, taking our time wherever we went. First to a friend's bar. Next to a bar/club on the beach. We walked inside and I heard Johnny Cash coming from the speakers and then saw a live Rockabilly band playing on a stage. Incredible. The lead singer could have been an Italian Elvis Impersonator if he wanted to, maybe he was. Claudia and I pushed our way to the front of the stage and danced and danced and danced. I couldn't help from staring at these rockabilly guys with their gelled back hair and exaggerated sideburns, trying to sing along to the words of these classical American rock songs, but failing so hard. They genuinely loved the music; their fists in the air, their mouths moving with purpose, but none of them had a clue what the words to the song were or what they meant. I don't think anyone in the bar knew what they were singing about. I pondered if the guys in the band even knew what they were singing about. I knew I was the only American in that entire bar. I laughed and danced and danced while I laughed. I knew these songs. I knew what they were about. I felt like I owned them. I felt cocky. I felt like a secret.

After the band finished, Claudia and I, again, pushed ourselves through the crowd towards the bar. I ordered a martini. The bartender looked at me, puzzled. It was apparently too complicated and I couldn't explain it over the blaring music. I pointed to the blue Sapphire bottle. He gave me gin with 2 olives in an oversized cup. He had an over-exaggerated look of disgust on his face as if to ask me why I would ever drink something so foul. I knew I was the only American in the bar.

We were asleep by 4 and awake by 1.

The weather was gloomy and frigid. We drove to the sea and walked along the shore. We both agreed that we felt slow. I felt like my legs weighed 500 pounds. It began to rain and we walked to a cafe, completely decked in framed pictures and posters of funk and soul legends. One of the two, playing from the speakers. Again, I laughed. These American references felt so random. We picked out tea from this large box. It took me forever to decide. I settled on Earl Grey Green Tea. Boring but delicious. We then decided to go back to her house and watch a movie. It felt appropriate for the weather. I decided on "Amelie". Claudia had been mentioning all of these memories she had of Paris, so it too felt appropriate. 

Fuck, I love that movie. It's silly that I don't own it. I watched it with reverence. I admired all of it's details as a film. I drooled over Audrey Tatou's skin and cheekbones and big dark eyes. Gosh, I wish I looked like her. Claudia fell asleep.

When Claudia awoke, she drove me to the train station. We said our goodbyes with a double-cheek kiss, kiss. I put my headphones in my ears and continued listening to "Teen Dream" from where I left off yesterday. The heart is a stone and this is the stone that we throw. The wind was aggressive and I wrapped my scarf around face, covering my nose and ears. Put your hand on this stone, it's the stone of a home you know. I sat on a bench, waiting, listening, looking at the sign across the tracks that read "ANCONA" They say we'll go far, but they don't know how far we'll go. And I smiled, knowing and even more, feeling, that I was in Italy. With our legs on the edge and our feet on the horizon. And I was happy.

I wish I had to willpower to just put any sort of internet life on hold while I'm gone. Checking fb is great sometimes, other times it bums me out. I guess this is to be expected. Seeing friends hanging out with your other friends and frienemies. Seeing pictures of people at my house. COACHELLA! PYT! OMG!

Am I really missing out on so much? Yes, and no. I hope not. I'm not sure. Maybe?

Maybe tools like the internet prohibit the full effects of a trip like this. Maybe I am anxious to know what's happening in LA that I'm not really taking in what's happening here? But I feel my self slowly stepping away. Once it's warm, I'll be at the beach instead of on the computer. I told myself that I didn't want to have one foot in LA while I'm here and I guess I have to make the conscious effort to make sure that doesn't happen.

nightmares

I had a nightmare last night and it's been right behind my eyes all day. The basis of my dream was that I was being verbally and physically assaulted/offended over and over and over by the same unknown man in the midst of parties and public. He was apparently always a part of whatever group I was in, as if I was supposed to know who he was but I didnt. My friends were always around while it was happening but no one ever noticed him doing these horrible things. And once I finally told people, no one believed me. It was very strange and I'm actually glad I don't remember all of the details but I knew I felt in danger and I was hysterical because no one would believe me or take action or help.


I'm in a conscious nightmare right now because I am sitting through "Angels and Demons" with Arianna and I never thought I couldn't adore Tom Hanks....and/or Ewan McGregor...until now. This movie is a pile of dog poop wrapped in a bunch of academic religious mumbojumbo puzzle talk. BARF.

I think everyone our age...

should stand up straighter. Myself included. Horrible posture everywhere. I don't know why, out of nowhere, it now bothers me.

Let's wear our confidence on our spines.

I can feel my heart

and it actually hurts. Every time I exhale, I feel a dull ache. Over and over and over. Ow, ow, ow.  Stop. Stop. Stop.

so good

Your skin is my skin

I have collected and have been trying to diligently use all of my mother's expensive face creams/lotions/potions. I feel as though if I don't use them, they will be wasted. All the money she spent on all of these creams to make her wrinkles disappear, to remove the bags from her eyes...I feel like it's my responsibility to do the same. But there's so much...there are enough bottles and pots to supply a extensive checkout line of women. And I think it's all probably expired anyway, and yet, I still generously and ceremoniously apply these serums to my face night and day, hoping that in someway it will bring me closer to her.

sickface. goodfriday?

So I'm having my semi-annual head-cold turned phlemy-cough. If I'm not mistaken, I think they are really sinus infections every time. Like the chronic childhood ear infections, 1 out of 4 colds turns into a sinus infection. Without fail. Yuck. Also, italians don't really take any medicine. For anything. I actually had to explain to Arianna tonight what a "cough drop" was.

Arianna and I walked around town (which is the size of a large neighborhood) after dinner because there was a Catholic Easter parade taking place. There were fake, dead, Jesus' and lots of praying and singing and silence. People perched on their small porches overhead had lit candles and watched quietly. I also learned that tonight (Good Friday?) was the day that Jesus actually died on the cross...I feel like I had heard that along the way somewhere in my life, but tonight also felt like the first time I realized it. And Easter was when he "came back"? I truly have no clue what any of this actually means. Like most American children, I celebrated all religious holidays by admiring a fictitious character and receiving presents. What a fraud.
Anyway, it was beautiful and it was the first time I actually walked in town after dark. I realized how much I almost like it better at night time. The sky is a velvety black backdrop, not polluted with light in the least. It's beautiful.

I wish I could fool you.

Today is April Fools. I'm sort of bummed I can't really trick anyone here, but I've never been good at it anyway. When I was a junior in high school, I went to sickening depths to convince my boyfriend that I had cheated on him. He didn't believe me, but I really wanted him to so i kept going and going, telling him it wasn't a joke. So fucked up. In retrospect, I was a horrible person for doing so. I don't think he spoke to me for a few days after. Understandably. After that, I never "fooled" anyone again.

Today I watched "Seven Pounds" and bawled my eyes out. It was far better than expected even though I love Will Smith.  And even though I loved the film, I'm not sure I love Will Smith all mopey and sad without any funny one-liners like "WELCOME TO EARTH!" as he punches an alien in the face. I like that Will Smith better.

I also bought Tobasco sauce at the grocery store and almost skipped on my way to the checkout. I NEEDED SOME HOT SAUCE IN MY LIFE. I can't wait to make some eggs.