an inundation of updates, events & pensieri

I really must apologize. An update has been overdue for so long, yet I kept putting it off because, well, I got a social life! I haven’t been the happiest here in the past few months, what with all the disappointing attempts at befriending people, being lonely, travelling alone, etc. But everything’s turned around in the past two weeks, in an amazing 180. I discovered the Milano group on the Couchsurfing website. Turns out that there’s a highly active group of young people who get together regularly for aperitivi, picnics, movies, and other events. It’s changing my whole experience here.

I realized I had nothing to lose anymore, so two weeks ago, I RSVP’ed to an event posted on the CS forum and then trudged out into the rain  for this lecture event on environmental sustainability and community activism. It was sufficiently awkward at first– I had some guy’s number who had said he’d be there, but then later cancelled. I had no idea how I’d find the CS people I came here to see! Eventually though, while I was working the crowd, striking up conversation with random people, a guy smiled at me, came over and said “Hi, you’re on CS, aren’t you? Dini?” How fantastic! It turns out that this guy, we’ll call him “Lor,” is actually one of the most active members on CS. He hosts guests quite a lot, and is one of your liberal, community-activist, save-the-hippies type, with a humanities background. He has got an inner calmness and maturity about him and I felt immediately comfortable. He and his girlfriend (also a CS member– I have yet to ask them if they met on CS) made sure I was understanding the lecture in Italian and introduced me to some others in the group as well. Overall, a wonderful event with some beautiful food. Check this out:

So, since then, I have met up a number of times with the local CS community. I went out to the big outdoor May Day Festival (essentially a drunken rave– your blogger abstained) and we all drank, ate and danced. Allow me to show you the scene:

I had a great time, and let me just say that the CS guys– every single one I have ever met– are complete gentlemen. They are incredibly trustworthy, such as when at this MayDay parade, some sketchy dude started dancing with me, at least two CSers positioned themselves to help me if anything went wrong. (And ha, eventually something DID go wrong with this guy a few days later, wish they were around THEN. This is a story for another blogpost. Or not. Ever.)

MayDay went really well, and the next day Lor invited me and other CSers to a picnic and a day around Milan with some girls he was hosting from Holland/Canada. When I got to the park to meet them, Lor told me they’d met some Taiwanese picnickers and they’d fused together their food and groups. Although as a vegetarian, I tend to not trust Asian food. I stuck to my mushroom spaghetti and Bellini (a great concept involving sparkling white wine and peach juice, but poorly executed by this particular brand):

S

I liked Lor’s guests a lot, and offered to hold on to one of the girls’ Nalgene bottle when they decided they wanted to go to a soccer game (stadium security would confiscate it because people go crazy at games and attack each other and the soccer players). We agreed that we’d meet up the next day to exchange the water bottle, and to hang out. This we did, they were lovely and intelligent girls and thus ended a wonderful weekend. (Also, found a cute red dress at a church sale for 3 euro. You should have seen the old church ladies all a-flutter as they helped me try it on. Like I was Cinderella, or something.)

Last Tuesday, I also went to the weekly CS aperitivo, which was a gathering of about 20 to 25 people. In fact, I met a girl who is from DC! So we talked about how I hate Fort Totten. I met a lot of people here and enjoyed it. I’ll be there again tonight.

I see this post is getting dreadfully long. Let’s give it a few hours before continuing, eh? I want to tell you all about this past weekend in Modena and Franciacorta. I think I have finally reached a turning point in my Italian fluency, which is a very, very exciting thing.

Peace.

 

operation “tuscan sun” now underway

I ain’t seen the sun shine in three damn days. It’s been pretty bad here, dudes. The skies have been overcast for the past three days, and the weather reports say that it’s going to be more of the same for the next two days. This is a total bummer. My mood is directly influenced by the weather– I get SAD. Seasonal Affective Disorder, that is. (Yes, I am linking you to my beloved ex-employer!) While I believe many mental disorders are invented by pharmaceutical companies, including ADD, I think SAD is a real thing. Just like a plant wilts without its sunshine (and alas, my basil plant is holding on to dear life), the body grows weary of clouds and rain. Another reason I hate the rain is because I have to fish out my umbrella from the last time it rained.

So this morning, I walked around the whole apartment looking for my half-broken piece of crap and just really had no luck with it. I’m not too patient with these things– and not too high-maintenance either– so I just walked out with my bruised and battered purse from Target.

Anyway. It was very nice that on my short walk to the university, a guy walking a few meters behind me offered to let me under his umbrella. It was kind of useless, seeing as how it was quite a small one, but kind all the same. I will just say, for the sake of “perspective” that nobody has ever done that for me on campus. JUST SAYING. And because you asked, I was walking to the university to buy a ticket to a wine tour and tasting in Franciacorta, which is a (famous) wine-producing region in Lombardy. That’s going to be on May 10th, so I’ll obviously dedicate a prompt and thorough entry when the time comes. (Tell me, do you like when I embolden key words in a paragraph? Does it help you guys skim faster? FEEDBACK PLS.)

After buying the tickets, I thought OH WHAT THE HECK and went out to this little cafe bar I discovered just yesterday. They have “50 cent cafe” plastered all over their door, so who am I to pass that up? Also, the old man who runs the place with his son is incredibly nice! He smiled at me when I walked in again today, and GOD KNOWS it makes my day when anyone seems to recognize, let alone look happy to see me. I ordered my 50 cent cafe and stood at the counter, where you have to stand if you want that coffee to be 50 cents. It’s customary for Italian cafes to charge you a different “standing” and “sitting” price. I don’t mind this here, because I get to chat with this old guy and today, also with a jolly old lady. She was just remarkably happy, and we chatted in Italian. (I maintain that talking to old Italian ladies is the best way to build up confidence in the language.) And I’m just going to go ahead and let you in on this, because it was WORTH A TRY. I told her I liked cooking, and later on in the conversation I floated the idea that “possiamo cucinare insieme un altra occasione”–that is,“we could cook together sometime?” Like I said, NOTHING TO LOSE. But she was like “Aw, nice thought, but I live with a huge family, so no.” Meh. Guess I need to keep trolling for old grandmas until I find one who will make gnocchi with me.

I left the bar with my hair still wet and stringy, but still not ready to go home. SO, I decided to take care of my long overdue haircut. I went to a Chinese parucchiere I’d passed by once. I was just doused by now, but it was nice any for Italian #2 to offer up his umbrella for a few meters. THANKS! He spoke English and was like “Guess you haven’t run into an umbrella seller on the street yet?” And I was all like “Hah, you guessed it!” Although really, I’d run into two and didn’t really care to buy their heavily marked up gadgets because tomorrow it might be sunny and then the JOKE’S ON ME, right? Ehh, this makes more sense in my head.

THE POINT IS, I got there. Entirely wet. Haircuts at this place go for 8 euro. The cheapest haircuts I’ve seen aside from this place was 18 euros, so this is really quite the deal. Believe me when I say communication was a challenge. My broken Italian. Their broken Italian. I just closed my eyes and let the guy do his thing. And surprise! It turned out just fine.

And then I went home, and went to make some important phone calls to some Tuscan farms. Some were full already and don’t need any more volunteers. But there were a few I called that said that they could perhaps take me for the month of July and maybe the first half of August, which is the ideal plan if I can extend my visa. The question has been brought up, why work on a farm instead of finding an internship during my last summer as an undergraduate?

First off, I have a good number of internships under my belt. One more wouldn’t do that much for me. Also, having worked in the same few blocks in DC for the past four summers, this would be a welcome change. And third, I think my interest in food and sustainability is a lasting one. One that I could base a future career out of. That being said, I cold called a particular winery (forgetting I had emailed them the day before, oops!) and introduced myself. The woman on the phone immediately recognized my name and told me she had read the email yesterday and was very interested in having me work there. I had chosen her farm because the description said they wanted someone to help with administrative work that comes with running a winery, which I see as an opportunity to turn this experience into a valuable “internship” that involves field work and office work.

I spoke to another farmer at yet another vineyard who seemed interested as well– his farm had listed that they were looking for someone to take part in “all aspects” of the winery, which is an attractive description to me.

So, that’s where things are right now. Keep your fingers crossed! Your blogger needs some fresh air after a few too many months of Milano smog.

+4 bonus points to whoever guesses why I’m posting this picture:

 

Gushing a little over this Skype subscription

I just feel DRUNK WITH POWER, having this Skype subscription. I can call anybody in America and talk forever? I don’t quite know what to do with myself or whether I will be able to use my new superpower with restraint. Are you an American and desire a phone call from this blogger? Let me know and I will happily oblige.

 

work on a farm in tuscany? a possible summer plan.

Usually at this time every year, I get all twitchy and nervous. Why? I am out looking for summer work! The idea of bumming around during the summer months is frightening to me. This year, I have been remarkably apathetic towards the internship search. I have barely lifted a finger. It’s definitely because I’m in Italy, far from the stress of my usual collegiate setting. I have done a little searching, I guess. I sent resumes to Eataly, a more intellectually-oriented version of Whole Foods with an emphasis on the Slow Food Movement. I also applied to Terra Madre, an offshoot of the Slow Food Movement dedicated to biodiversity around the world. I doubt they will write me back, and I will probably have to pursue them with some aggression if I am going to hear back from them at all.

But tonight, I was talking to Naomi on the phone (yes, on her phone. I finally got a Skype subscription that allows me to make unlimited phone calls to the U.S.!). She told me to get in touch with her BFF Angela, who has been looking into working on a farm in Italy during the summer. This I did, and Angela sent me a full list of farms and agrotourist sites complete with descriptions and contact information. Many make their own wine, olive oil, preserves, cheeses and harvest their own vegetables.

How about it? I have been looking for something to do over the summer. I love food. You work for your keep, which means I would be given free room and board in exchange for working. And possibly live in Tuscany during the summer. I can’t really think of a con. It could be a perfect way to balance out what has been a mostly lackluster semester for me, here in Milan. Harsh even pointed out that it could be a chance to learn a thing or two about business, especially with wineries that likely sell their wines to local and international clients. I found a few that are close to cities, like Florence and Siena, so I could escape once in awhile if I get claustrophobic.

Thoughts?

 

verona’s claim to fame revolves around two teenagers with pubescent hormonal imbalances that caused them to believe they were in love

Hey SUP WORLD? And by world, I mean like the maybe two people who read this thing. Today, I ventured into Verona, some totally ancient city to soak up this ITALIAN SUN. Do not trust these Italian weather websites! They predicted clouds and possible rain, but the weather really could not have been more fantastic. Are you ready to see some pictures, mostly of food? I will not lie. I spent about 65% of today thinking about food. But no, do not worry! This post will be peppered with such romance because this is where the action happened between the Capulets and the Montagues. (Except not! Shakespeare originally set the story in Siena, and some dude changed it to Verona, because he felt like it?) Uhhh, anyway. Here’s what I ate:

Check this thing out. Today was just a gelato kind of day. Weather was fantastic, pleasantly warm. Everyone was chilling this fine Saturday with their gelatos in hand. I got mine after a few hours of walking around “off the beaten path.” Going off the beaten path, by the way, was an epic fail. More in a second. The flavor? Tiramisu. I love when they wedge in those personalized wafers into the gelato. It’s cute, as if they are handing out little edible business cards. It also proves the gelateria takes their business seriously. Just think, if this blog saw more traffic, this picture would be a free ad for this little gelateria.

Anyway.

Oh hm, what have we here? A half hour had not passed before your blogger bought this little sampling of pastries, FOR THE CULTURAL ENLIGHTENMENT. After all, these things are specialite di Verona. The two seashell-like pastries at the bottom of the photo are i baci di Giulietta and i sospiri di Romeo. The Giulietta is made from almonds and vanilla, I believe. The Romeo is made of chocolate and hazelnuts. You can’t really see it in this shot, but there’s a little layer of cream sandwiched in. That, in a nutshell (pun?), is love. The pastry up top is called amaretto, and it’s made out of almonds. This is also a specialty of Verona, so I went for it.

Here’s part of the display that this certain “Flego Pasticceria” used to lure me into its dungeon di dolce.

Here is a bust (hehe, bust) of your greedy fameball Shakespeare, inventor of the Shakespeare “Quote of the Day” that is sent to your inboxes daily. Here he is, as part of a sexy new ad campaign intended to bring tourists into the City of Verona.

Here are some classy foreigners (“Americans”) defacing the non-house of the never-existed Giulietta. Does this attractive couple, as they scrawl their names into this walls of love’s “greatest love story” realize that at the end of the romantic Shakespearean fable, the main characters die tragic, untimely, slightly gruesome deaths?

After hitting up Juliet’s place, I decided to check out Romeo’s digs too. I got lost and asked a little old lady for some help.”Vous parlez Francais?” she asked, after I failed to understand all her Italian. I’m an intermediate speaker, and I told her so. BOY HOWDY, did I feel fancy, just cold switching Romance languages like that. And all the while, no English. She was plenty nice and we got to talking and she actually ended up walking with me for a good half hour or more, showing me all the historical churches I’d missed. She said she’d moved to Italy with her family way back during World War II, to avoid the Nazis. She said that the Nazis came in the middle of the night to invade Verona (I think, I think. My French may be a little off.) and she also showed me where she remembers seeing the Americans saving everybody and kicking out the Nazis. She was such a sweet little old lady! We walked out to this bridge, which was obviously gorgeous. Here’s a view. Then she went home, to Via Pigna 6.

OKAY ENOUGH OF THIS. What did I have for dinner, you must be wondering. Well, I was wondering all day where I should go eat. I glaced at every menu at every trattoria I passed. I rejected most of them because they were either too expensive or didn’t seem to be very vegetarian-friendly. (The Veronese eat horsemeat. In other words, they eat horses.) But, I happened upon an adorable looking place, and for the first time, had a meal in Italy that I do not regret at all! Here’s what it looked like:

What tipped my decision to eat here was that at the bottom of their menu, they had written in Italian “We cook with love.” That just touched my soul. But also when I walked in, the waitstaff was just so genuinely friendly. With absolute certainty, I can say that no one has looked so happy to see me during my entire stay in Italy.

I went through my usual awkward “I’m vegetarian, I hope you don’t mind that I badger you with several questions regarding your ingredients.” The waitress was so super about it. She got the head waitress to come over and explain all the vegetarian dishes, no judgments visibly passed. So, what did I order?

–To start, I decided to try Bardolino. Obviously a red. It is a Venetian wine, that’s where I was, so it made overall sense. I’m not yet wise enough to judge wines, but it certainly did not taste like the $5 crap I bought in College Park that one time. That one gave Lauren hives, or something. This wine was rather FULL-BODIED, much like the late Anna Nicole Smith.

–Obligatory bread basket. To answer your question Alex, yes, I ate all of it.

–I had a few options for primi piatti. I settled on pappardelle con asparagi e pinoli, because I like what asparagus does to my pee (kidding!). It was GREAT. I had legitimately been expecting them to throw some olive oil, seasonings into the pappardelle and garnish with some overcooked asparagus spears. I did not expect the asparagus to be pureed into a perfectly seasoned sauce and to pack that kind of fantastic flavor. I do not at all regret this meal. I was so taken aback that I dug right in before I realized I hadn’t taken a picture yet, ZOMG! This is why you see my fork in the shot.

Got out of there with a bill of 11 euro. Not bad considering I got wine, pasta, tons of bread and an after-dinner coffee out of it. In a beautiful trattoria, I might add. Though, I do have a question. The menu said there is a “coperto” aka cover charge of 1.50 euro, but I didn’t see this on the bill. I was charged only for what I ordered. Was I supposed to leave that cash myself after paying the bill? Or did they take pity on this single gal shuffling around Verona herself, chatting up the friendly waitstaff? After I left, it occurred to me that I should have left a tip! But this thought eluded me at the time, as I’ve gotten used to the no-tipping thing in Italian restaurants. Thoughts?

But there you have it, fellas. Some of the highlights of my trip to Verona.

 

i finally lured people into my apartment!

Much as the subject line says, I finally got people to come chill at my apartment! Many of you know that I loooove having people come over and feeding them. SO I invited some of my French copains over tonight for a Wednesday pre-aperitivo bash. The reason we meet up on Wednesdays is because this fancy bar/club around here named Old-Fashioned lets foreign exchange students in for free once a week on this day. Although we have gotten together before for pre-aperitivo (aka”pre-gaming”), we have never actually made it out to Old-Fashioned! We will usually get lazy and bum around the someone’s apartment. ANYWAY, ANYWAY, the real point to this is, when I realized I was playing host, my mind immediately went into gear. What would I serve? Somehow, and I don’t know how, I settled, FIXATED on a bean dip. There must be bean dip! So here is what I whipped up in time for the girls (and boy):

This was easy. I mashed up a can of cannellini beans (then just WENT for it and added a can of borlotti). I sauteed some shallots and garlic in a generous pool of EVOO, then added the beans to the saucepan. Caroline, my early guest was seduced by my bag of Indian spices, so we threw in EXTRA HOT CHILI POWDER and a pinch of curry powder. This thing was going to need lemon and I had none, so at this time, I went knocking on neighbors’ doors and a nice couple gave me half a lemon they had lying around. So now we had lemon juice and zest, to taste. Ahh, guess what? It’s warm enough to have basil plants, so we cut up some fresh basil leaves, for garnish. Salt and pepper too, obviously. We ate them with delicious Italian oven-baked olive crackers that I found at the grocery store. But once we ran out of those, we went for the next best thing, mini Pringles. (Do they sell these in America?)

Here’s a picture of the kids I hung out with tonight. We were waiting for the Metro:

Oh, these are not the first people I have demonically tricked into my apartment. On a particularly beautiful weekend recently, I had a friend over for caprese sandwiches. We ate them on the balcony, which was nice and then we cut up some fruits for a goooorgeous salad. Take a look:

*Sigh* I love spring and everything that comes with it.

 

self-indulgent recount of my train to torino

Hey everyone! Thought I’d check in with you, since it’s been awhile since I’ve updated.  I went to Torino last week, and I thought it was a fantastic city. Although, since nothing normal ever happens to me, let me recount what happened on the two-hour train ride over there.

I found a free spot next to an elderly lady, so I took it. I like sitting next to old ladies because they inevitably start talking to you, and they are very patient with me and my Italian. It’s an opportunity to communicate with someone without the temptation of reverting to English. So, it was only a matter of time before she started chatting.

“You are Indian?” she wanted to know. I said, “Sure, yea, but actually American.” She told me she was Romanian and started talking about all these old Indian movies she watched. I nodded politely, but I really don’t know much about these. Then she started going off about how she was living in Minneapolis like, 25 years ago? And how she was looking for an apartment but she was completely disgusted because there was a room open in an apartment with a– and she leaned in close now to whisper near my ear– “nero omosessuale.” A black homosexual. Yo, this lady picked the wrong chick to be a racist homophobe with.

So, armed with my limited Italian vocabulary, I told her that it’s wrong to say things like that, and does she know any gay people? Well, I do, so I don’t like her saying hateful things about my friends. She kept saying that they were “sick in the head.” It was making me sick just listening to her. After awhile, I realized that she was actually slightly insane, so I plugged into my iPod and told I was tired. This old bat (useful word, Alex!) kept bothering me through the iPod though. She asked for a pen, so I PAUSED my awesome Ted Leo song to pull one out of my purse. Then, I kid you not, she took out a little pad and started to draw me. Have you ever experienced this? It was a terrifying experience. After she was finished with her masterpiece, she proudly handed it to me. I looked like a drag queen. I am just so sorry that I lost the pictures– I should have taken a photo of them at least to put up for you guys. I’ll keep looking, I must have it around somewhere! I should at least find the other picture she drew of me after she was done with the first. Oh jeez, what a crazy lady.

When we were approaching Torino, the lady realized she was getting no more interaction from me, so she reached out to the guy in the seat across from us. She went, “Are you sick?” And to my surprise, this guy replied, “Actually, yes!” Then she started spurting out superfluous advice, like “Drink three liters of tea! Lay down on a bed!” This was hilarious, because WHO IS THIS LADY? I caught the eye of a fellow passenger who was cracking up also. (By the way, this is a major con to traveling alone– when hilarious things happen, often nobody else notices.)

Well, this fellow passenger ended up being a lovely man who really underestimated my Italian speaking ability. So when I asked him for directions to the bus station, he walked with me to ask a bunch of people and then bought me a bus ticket for me when I realized I was out of small change. He was going to walk with me to find the station, but he had to catch his train, so I thanked him and told him to go catch his ride! This is why/how Italian men are fantastic. There are other reasons, also, but I will blog about those on another day. All in all, I am glad I went to Torino and will almost certainly go back!

I leave you with a photo of me and a well-known non-alcoholic beverage that I had become addicted to, and then weaned myself off of over say, 6 months. It was a tumultuous phase of my life. But now I’m back on this drug, and it tastes better in Europe. Also, its packaging and product design (“Coca-Cola Light“) is far more sophisticated than our U.S. counterpart. Enjoy the cheap PhotoBooth shot, as I sat in the living room with nothing better to do.

 

how was genova? it was good!

Here is your promised Genova post, everyone. I did quite a few things there, including buying a cute new top from H&M to match with these yellow heels I bought that one time with Alex.

The city was charming, safe and the only thing I regret is coming here before the basil season is in full-swing because the pesto would be other-worldly. Paolo, a Couchsurfer I met here said that everyone in Genova swears by their own family’s recipe. These silly Italians! How many pesto recipes can you possibly make from olive oil, pine nuts, basil and some parmesan? Apparently lots, because there is an annual pesto contest held in the hallowed walls of this city every March.

Let’s examine some pictures, shall we? (This includes nearly all food consumption.)

Something about some guy named Christopher Columbus who discovered “America” or something?? They are about 90% sure he was born in Genova.

This is Piazza de Ferrari, a central spot in the city.

Check out this little guy, CROSSING THE STREET ON A RED LIGHT. Arrest it.

Here is the picture that made me sigh and go, “I’m in Italy.”

They look like jewels on the Genovan hills.

Genova has one of the most aged population in Italy. Gives a whole new meaning to the term “slow-paced lifestyle”

Check this out! A tube and Mohandas, chilling by the sea at Porta Antico. Didn’t expect to run into my brethren here, but I did.

They look like jewels on the hills of Genova.

Your completely gratuitous shot of some cute tables that would probably be too uncomfortable to sit at anyway. TOURISTS *rolls eyes*

Not your innocent cappuccino. Those devils generously laced the cup with Nutella before pouring in the coffee. Then they topped it off with whipped cream and biscuits.

I suffer so much judgment at the hands of strangers, especially as a lone traveler, taking pictures of her vegan desserts. That’s right, vegan. No eggs or flour in this cocoa marmalade (?) cake, but you wouldn’t really miss it.

Bread and wine at Da Maria’s, a mostly working-class joint I hit up because Mark Bittman, food writer at the NYT told me to.

Me and some new Couchsurfing friends near the sea. They were fantastic!

Oh, and just because you ASKED, here is what I made for lunch:

You may not believe this, but I don’t think I have had egg salad since I was a child. You may be surprised to hear that I replaced the yucky mayonnaise with some plain yogurt. Also, some chili powder, chopped celery, parsley, salt and pepper. It made a great, low-fat lunch.

Oh, and check out what I made for dinner last night. Can you say “fusion?” I made a corn curry, because I had all the ingredients lying around and then thought “Crap, crap, what do I eat it with?” I had kids’ pasta lying around, but they’re shaped like stars and moons and are ideal for soups. I also had risotto, but it was already quite late and a 25-30 minute wait was too much. So I pulled out my bag of fresh gnocchi that I had bought at Carrefour that morning and pan fried it. A winning combination, folks! I will certainly experiment with curry and gnocchi again, but maybe next time the gnocchi will be part of the curry.

I also usually make a quick vinaigrette with my salads, but I wasn’t in a vinegar-y mood last night. So, with some inspiration from Heidi from 101Cookbooks, I mixed some plain yogurt with a bit of curry powder (going with that Indian theme), chopped parsley and sea salt. An eclectic meal, if there ever was!

 

oh hai, did you think i forgot u?

I finally paid a hefty 41 euros for a measly made-in-China universal camera charger, which means that your blogger is finally back on her feet. Not much has been going on in the meantime. Although I don’t mind travelling alone– my friends situation is sadly barren– I do mind travelling without a camera. At least with pictures, I feel like I can share the experience with people, even if its after the fact.

So tomorrow I am taking a train to Genova, a city that I only peripherally care about because those people there invented pesto. I love pesto a lot, and make it myself sometimes. Once I made it totally old-school, with the mortar and pestle and I will never go back! Here’s a poor shot of my handmade pesto. Fall in love with the texture.

Anyway, some vague reason regarding this green paste is why I’m going to Genova. Also, Mark Bittman, the NYT food writer says Genova is like Barcelona from 20 years ago. Compelling! You’ll have your substantial blog entry in one to two days. But while you wait, why not talk a peek outside my balcony? Look all the way out back, those are the Alps. *Sigh*

 

NEWS FLASH

Your precious blogger was turning off the lamp last night after watching some of Il Re Leone (The Lion King, in Italian), when it hit her on the head! Now she has a glaring bump on her forehead and OW CHARLIE, IT HUUUTS.

Regular blogging probably will not occur again until I receieve my fancy camera charger in the mail, because until then I cannot take pictures, and I would like to provide you with some of those with stories.