girl talk

This one goes out to my girlllsss:

If you are dating some dude and you want to talk or you want advice, I'm totally here for you.

But if that dude is disrespecting you, making you doubt yourself, or doesn't appreciate you for the kick-ass woman that you are....don't expect me to say much besides "MOVE ON". Oh, and if you make excuses for him and realize that your behavior is foolish but that you know that you're still gonna "take him back" or "put up" with his shit, then you start to become a lost cause to me. Maybe I'm wise in my young age, or maybe I'm jaded and impatient, but if you're relationship isn't working out, especially in the beginning stages when it should still be all fun and exciting, chances are it's not gonna work. My tolerance for smart women who act stupid when it comes to men is slim to none. I will listen and I will support but if you're acting like and idiot, chances are it will be very hard for me to tell you otherwise. It breaks my heart to see friends of mine get so depressed over a dude that obviously doesn't respect them and to watch them make excuses for him. "Maybe this is just the way he deals with things".....by ignoring you and leaving you in the dark?! "He's just going through a lot"....which is no excuse to be an asshole. I don't know why it frustrates me so much to see women selling themselves short when it's obviously not my problem or why I constantly wish they'd just open their eyes and see their worth, but it does. It makes me soooo mad. I know love is complicated and makes people do stupid things but tormenting yourself over someone else is such a goddamn waste of time and sanity. Granted, when you've been dating someone and there's lots of history there, I know that just "dumping" someone is never that easy, but honestly if you're still getting to know someone and they cause you this much grief, GTFO because there is someone out there who is better and more compatible, no doubt. 

Okay, my ranting is over.

But, seriously, just dump him.

I feel as though I'm just supposed to do whatever other people want me to do and react the way that it's expected for me to react. Like when people ask me how I like it here in Civitanova, of course I have to say that I love it....even though I'm really thinking "you know, it's okay, it's small, but it's nice I guess". Or when I get invited to dinner by this guy who is friends/neighbors with Arianna and Francesco but he annoys the fuck out of me because he doesn't understand that he talks far too much to the point where you can't say anything in edgewise, you just have to sit and listen to him.... and when I decline his invitation to dinner it becomes the next days gossip..."Why didn't she come to dinner?" he asked Arianna today...WHY DOES IT MATTER?! Why does Arianna assume that I hate her/Italy/everything if I'm not smiling?! Why do people assume that because I'm here, that I want to stay and live here?! WHY WHY WHY....Why can't I decline invitations without insulting people? Why can't I not smile and be left alone? Why can't I tell people what I really think of this place...

The capability of being myself just became a whole lot tougher.

I am so excited to see how I do when I'm back in L.A. I think I will surely appreciate my independence and individuality a whoooooole lot more. Speaking my mind will never be taken for granted again. You're gonna hear allll about it.

Medicinal Tights

I have this capability of turning a pristine room into a disaster in 10 minutes flat.
Tonight I decided to "dress up" for dinner with the family and their friends and their children. I opted for my black aa leotard and a ballerina skirt with tights and boots. I did up my eyes in cat-like fashion and walked down the street with a little strut in my step. It felt good to not be wearing a v-neck and jeans. Once I arrived at our meeting place Arianna immediately notified me of a run in my tights....fuck. We hopped in the car and headed to dinner. I was ever-so-slightly trying to hike up my tights to hide the run but I was only making it worse. We stopped at a pharmacy to get aloe for the children's sun-burns and I told Arianna, "In America, we can get tights at the pharmacy" as a joke. Here, pharmacy's are strictly for medicinal purposes....nothing like Rite-Aid or your neighborhood Walgreens. She got out of the car and walked inside. She came back with a pair of tights. I was astonished. "They are medicinal tights" she said. Whoa. Apparently they help with the circulation in your legs, or at least thats what I gathered from the diagram on the back of the packaging. "They massage your legs!" Arianna said. "No, no they don't" I thought and smiled.
Dinner was good. Arianna's friends were trying to set me up with various men. not in a romantic way but in a "you guys can take a walk" kind of way. Yeah, okay, whatever. I ate creme brulee even though I don't know what they call it here. I looked in my purse at one point and found all these cards that belonged to my mother. Coupon cards, gift cards, savings cards, Starbucks, Victoria's Secret, Petco, Fry's...her signature was on some of them. 20 cards at least tucked away in this pocket of a purse that belonged to her that I always loved and now have. I looked through them with my hands under the table and no one noticed. I felt like she was saying "hi" to me so I said "hi" back.
Now I'm in bed and I'm tired and I have all this shit on my bed that I will push off onto the floor so I can pick/hang it up tomorrow.

goodnight.

Today has been a lazy and lonely day. Elizabeth hasn't texted me back and although I ventured out earlier, I've spent most of my afternoon in bed watching Batman Begins. A movie that never fails to excite me. I quite enjoy quoting Michael Cane as Alfred, it makes me laugh. Oh and Katie Holmes is horrible in it but Morgan Freeman's awesomeness makes up for it.
Sometimes I feel this strange sense of guilt when I'd rather stay inside all day than go outside and explore. I feel as though it's the "wrong" way to feel but then again, who's to say?
I'm on amazon right now creating a "wish-list"! Mostly just for fun, but maybe it will help me figure stuff out for my birthday.

"Dark Knight" is definitely on there.

Venice

Today was so incredibly lovely. I didn't know what to expect from Venice but it exceeded even my unknown expectations. Maybe it was the weather or the clouds (I swear Italy has the best clouds I've ever seen sometimes), maybe it was because Filippo was behaving like an angel, or maybe it was the laundry hanging from closelines above these tiny alleys. Maybe it was because it was just so picture perfect. I don't know but I loved it. It was finally hot, like a summer day. It was crowded but in a way that never became bothersome. There were no cars or loud scooters, only small motor boats and gondolas. We rode a gondola around for about 30 minutes and it was so quiet and peaceful that none of us even talked. I snapped away with my camera and I would point at something and then Filippo would take a picture of it with his toy camera. I told him that there were crocodiles in the water and he said he didn't believe me although I think he questioned it. We didn't bother with museums which didn't bother me. We just walked and my feet never hurt which always makes for a better day. When we finally left and headed home it started raining even though it was sunny which always makes me feel a bit funny but today I liked it and then I saw a full, radiant rainbow. We stopped and ate dinner at this common restaraunt chain that are always next to gas stations called "Autogrill" which is like an Italian version of cafeteria-style dining, aka weird. I ate green beans and pineapple because it's all I could manage to grab but I was satisfyed with it. After I ate, Arianna and I went to the bar to get a coffee. The young male barista handed me my espresso and I said "Grazie" and he said "Inglese?" and I said "Si, sono Americana" and he said "Bella" and walked away. I kept my head down because I could tell I was blushing. He just said it with such strange subtly, not in a flirting way, just a very matter of fact way. I realized that it was the first encounter I had with the opposite sex in Italy. Maybe that was the real reason I was blushing. But it was comforting. It was comforting to hear a stranger tell me that I was pretty at a gas station restaurant with awful florescent lighting when I have greasy hair and a sunburned face. I wish I could go back and thank him for that tiny gesture.

Oh, but long story short, I love Venice, and today was my favorite day in Italy. So, yay!

Wish

Today I went under the Rialto and was told to make a wish.




I wished that you could hear me.

"There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week..."

Tonight I realized that I live here. I live in Italy. It was upon realizing this that I thought for the very first time "I don't want to be here anymore". Even in my emotional panic and getting lost in culture shock, I never thought those words.
I remember hearing people say "Wow, you've never been abroad, and you're just gonna go live there?!" before I left and I would smile and/or giggle and just say "Yeah...", or maybe sometimes I would nod and say "Yep!" if I was feeling a bit more brave on that particular day. But now I know what that feels like. This isn't some hostel-bouncing EuroTour, this has become my day to day life. I bite my tongue every day and it's creating a huge sore in my brain. I am constantly replying to unbelievable remarks in my head like, "where do you get off?!...", "here we go again..."and usually just "..." because most of the time I am left speechless. And I really have no idea how to categorize this ignorance and arrogance that I am up against most days. Is it an "Italian thing"?...or is it just this family? this woman? How do I approach it? How do I stand up for myself? I can't...because anything I say will be misconstrued. So I keep quiet and it's turning into resentment. And it's all really unfortunate. It's unfortunate to live in a place where you are misunderstood and unable to properly communicate. Where conflict has to constantly be avoided and I have to walk on eggshells in order to do so.
Is it a lesson in patience? Absolutely. It is a lesson of thinking before speaking? Ifuckingguessso. Because that's all I do...I think. I don't speak. I just think and think and think.

things (pt. 3)

It's my 300th post!
(Big deal)
I'm going for a run just so I can listen to the new National album on my ipod, or maybe I'm listening to it so I can go for a run.
I never run the whole way.
Being a liberal in a non-liberal household is weird sometimes.
Still surprised by the lack of garlic and wine that is consumed in this house.
I have a closet full of clothes here that I haven't touched at all. I wear jeans everyday.
I'm wearing my Arizona flag socks today.
Still can't decide if I'm willing time to go slow or fast.

flickr

NEW PHOTOGRAPHS OF STUFF! ITALIAN STUFF! NEAT!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/amelephant/

Beige

"I'm just...going through something."
"I can relate."
"Yeah, you're definitely going through something too."

It's a strange sensation that I've felt lately. Somewhere between loneliness and boredom. Maybe bordering disappointment. I'm not sure. If I had to describe it with a color, it would be beige. I think it may just be that I'm finally getting acclimated. That I'm finally more happy about things and have less to mope about. That of course, isn't disappointing, but I'm starting to think that my outlook on this place and Italy as a whole, is. People are closed here. Italy as a place, I have determined, is very ignorant. I always fantasized about Italy being the kind of place that I would love to live and now I'm realizing that it's not. And that's an okay realization, but it is disappointing. I do love the land. The environment here is something that is unparalleled in many ways. Unlike many places, it doesn't need to be inhabited to be interesting or impressive. I feel like I could roll around in the dirt here, but I'd want everyone to go away. Maybe I'm just battling with the fact that I can't relate to anyone here, let alone communicate with them. It's as if I might as well be alone anyway. I learned this weekend that people from Marche are known in Italy to be "closed". Wonderful. "What a wonderful place to put an awkward American girl! She'll just thrive there!"
It's okay though. I'm working on liking myself enough to be my own best friend. And that's not as sad as it sounds, it's sort of wonderful actually. "Everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be." I tell myself that everyday and I believe it. Even though I wanted to come here and love it and make new friends and be fluent in Italian and lose 10 lbs...it's okay if none of that happens because maybe that's not what this trip is for. Maybe this trip is for healing and solitude and gratitude and pleasure.
Expect the unexpected, as the Americans say.

Lunch

Mother's Day

Today I lit a candle in front of the statue of Madonna, the mother of all mother's, in the Basillica of Santa Croce. I lit it for my mother and I silently told her that I loved her and I missed her with all my heart. I haven't dwelled on the fact that it's Mother's Day today, but I am celebrating her all the same.

Thank you, Mom, for allowing me to be here. For allowing me to walk these streets and experience this beautiful place today. I am so lucky and only have you to thank. I still appreciate you even though you are gone and I will always continue to do so. I wish you could see all of this and I hope (even on some weird plane) that you are. I love you. -A.

a room with a view

I'm resting my tired feet in my hotel room; sitting on this bed that just happens to lay below a fresco on the ceiling. My room faces Piazza Della Repubblica. I can see a reflection of the dome of the Duomo in my window and I have floor to ceiling doors that open up to a little balcony. It's like I have a tiny little villa all to myself for the night. There's an ongoing concert in the Piazza with different musical acts and I don't think I'll be sleeping at all tonight. But that's okay. I have this room with an incredible view all to myself. It's the closest I've ever felt to being in a fairytale.

things (pt. 2)

I haven't had a cigarette in 19 days. I don't miss it, and I do at the same time.
I've never bitten my fingernails more ferociously in my life as I have here. (possibly/probably correlated with previous statement)
I had my first Italian take out coffee today. It was in a styrofoam cup the size of shot glass and it was delicious.
I wish Italian bookstores sold books written in English.
I will it to pour rain every time I go for a walk. Just because.
I'm getting fat and healthy at the same time.

things

I was walking tonight and it started to rain the biggest rain drops I've ever seen for only 10 seconds, then it stopped.
My brain is boycotting learning the language of Italian. I really know I should care more. But I don't.
I love the way Federica snuggles and touches my face when she's tired.
I watch old 1960s re-runs of Pippi Longstockings dubbed in Italian everyday, multiple times a day.
I'm going to Florence this weekend (Caravaggio and I have a date)
Mother's Day reminders and spam e-mails are making me depressed.
My muscles are sore.
Birds chirp prettier here.
I miss kissing.

Food Dreams

I had another dream last night where I left Italy for a half an hour, just to stop by LA for a quick bite. (God, I wish I could do this in real life) I really wanted a burrito so I hit up a little Taqueria. Again, I woke up before I could actually EAT it. I really hope I have a dream about Pho next.

How To Make Your Own Historically Accurate / Fashionable Shoes: The Italian Edition

So, a few weeks ago I was invited to go to a shoe-making workshop. This lovely woman named Ana has her own shoe company called "Lucina" that makes not only fashionable, but historically accurate versions of shoes worn in ancient Rome. She conducts extensive research to find historical patterns and uses those patterns as the basis for all of her shoes. Different shoes were worn for different activities and occupations. 

The shoes I made were ACTUAL gladiator sandals. Meaning real, Romans wore these shoes in BATTLE. This isn't your trendy Nordstrom's B.S. This is le-git. Every pair of sandals I've tried on at her showroom has been the some of the most comfortable shoes I've ever had on my feet. Comfort is key and all of her shoes are made with super high-quality leather. The Romans did conquer the world on foot, after all.

I had three options of the shoes I could make.....and I obviously chose the shoes that would cost me the most to buy....(which would have been around $250 - $300 in the states...ZING!)

Here are the steps:

1. Start with  a pattern!

2. Trace out the pattern for both feet and slowly/carefully cut it out. 

(Experts use x-acto knives, I use sharp speciality scissors)

3. So many steps were skipped between these photos...but basically you cut out the pattern, you mercilessly stab holes into the leather where the pattern says you should (for sewing!). You think the holes are big enough, but you realize they're not when you can't get a needle through them, so you repeat this process about 5 times. Then you start putting it together! You sew both sides of the shoe to the bottom of the shoe and it makes this little bootie looking thing...as so.

4. Then you go back to Ana's factory and she helps you glue your bootie to the sole. Then you tell her that your hands are red and sore from all the cutting and sewing and that you absolutely refuse to sew the bootie to the sole by hand. You ask her nicely to do this with a industrial sewing machine and she obliges. You also have to cut out a piece of dye-free liner for the inside of the shoe so that your feet don't absorb any dye (this would be bad for you feet) and you also glue this to the bottom/inside of your shoe. 

I also wanted the back of mine to look a little more refined so I sewed an extra piece of leather in the back.

She hands you a pair of laces and VOILA!!! ....SHOES!

[HAND] MADE IN ITALY!!!! I AM AN OFFICIAL COBBLER!

 TAKE THAT, SUCKAZ.

It felt so incredible to make something with my hands again. It has been far too long.

I'm bitter and I'm angry and I'm jealous of the life that I'm not living in LA. I get jealous when people I know meet without me introducing them or become friend's on their own time after I have introduced them. So many incredible friendships and relationships have started as a result of my great introduction skills and I have slightly resented them all. And now that I am so far away I resent it even more. I resent that people I know still hang out at my house even though I'm not there. What in the hell is my problem?! That is NOT my problem! I shouldn't care. It shouldn't bother me. But it does. I was in Elizabeth's car today just whizzing by tons of people enjoying their day on the beach. Family, friends, lovers, whatever. Bbq'ing, tanning, playing, laughing, whatever. "I miss my friends" I said out loud as a enormous lump grew in my throat. And I did. I meant it in such a real way. I've never been anywhere this long where I didn't really have any friends. I miss drinking beer and laughing about inappropriate things. I miss my porch. I miss my roommates and my neighborhood. I looked at all these people and felt so disconnected from every single one of them. I don't know you and you don't know me. And that's the way it will be. When I go to beach, it will be alone. When I go to a bar, it will be alone. No one will approach me, and if they do, I won't know what to say but, "Non parlo Italiano" and they'll probably give me an awkward smile and walk away.


I am so blessed to be here. I am so lucky and I am happy. But I have never felt more alone in my entire life. So…I am finally learning to find joy and serenity in loneliness. I am trying hard not to wish I was in LA. I am accepting that I miss my friends, but I am trying to not let it eat me up too much. I'm trying to be in the present as possible, but it's difficult. It's difficult to feel like such an outsider all the time. It's like being in elementary school all over again.