Easy like Sunday morning (or Trieste, pt. 1)

Waking a bit after the sun, but not too much, we began. It was a cold morning and I was happy that we were in a car crossing the Apennines and their frosty tops. Deciding to take it easy the first leg of the trip was a good idea, because it gave me a chance to see the Tuscany rarely filmed, the winter. Part of me thinks it is fitting to be born in the dead part of the year; another, bigger and truly little girl part of me longs for the chance of a spring birthday. But at least this year it worked for me. Those famous Tuscan hills are glorious during the rest of the year; but I must admit, the browns, grays, greens and shockingly blue skies after a morning shroud of fog was a lovely enigma gently uncovered.

Avoiding the bane of the autovelox (fixed speed cameras) we slowly climbed and swayed through the mountains. I insisted on being allowed a few non-moving pictures, so the trip was much longer than we thought — but ultimately worth it. I love seeing the small little towns, the public art they display, and watching everyone go about their daily lives while living in what could only be called picturesque perfection — it gives you a pause. I believe all of our lives have something beautiful about them that others would want to take a picture of. And yet, there is the realization that even in a picture, the people in them still have to work, buy groceries, and put up with traffic. For me, it was refreshing.

We finally made it to out of Tuscany and too the east coast of Italy. An hour or so below Venice, we stopped and ate a delicious meal before heading up to Trieste via the highway. And this put us getting into Trieste after dark. I was joking before I saw it, that I hoped it was another “city of light” because I was a bit upset to be arriving after dark. And serendipity took care of me. It appeared as a city of light cupping the Adriatic sea. Hopefully the pictures will do it justice. Nothing like having a sparkling display greet you on the eve of your birthday.

Trieste pt. 1

Gnashing of teeth? I guess not.

So, for the first time in my life, I’m now living in a country where the government has collapsed. It’s my understanding that because 2 people more than usual voted against Prodi, he decided to resign rather than fight it out.

And oddly enough, I didn’t know this when I went to the grocery store. Indeed, it’s a very sunny day. People are out shopping and running errands. The same two guys that are always outside of the cafe were still outside of the cafe. Nonplussed is what comes to my mind.

So I asked my local expert, Luigi, what was going on, and he said this is normal. Actually, Berlusconi is the only PM that made it all the way to the 5 year term. Really? Hmm, now I’m having a few doubts about this place. But then again, it says a lot that the Italian people really function just fine without a government. No one seems alarmed.

Think of the few times it has happened in our country through either assassination or a resignation. I mean, people still talk about it. And here, well, yes, Luigi at least seems upset and it did make the headlines, but there is no ripple of uncertainty. Indeed, it seems this is certainty.

And here I thought it would be something so glamorous. Wrong again.

Maybe it’s the moon

Sorry people. I was really freaked out because earlier when I signed in to wordpress it had no place for me to post. Which has never happened before and I think an anomaly. Regardless, there are other things to be concerned with. First, Shelby told me that Heath Ledger was found dead. And as a fan of his work, well, let’s just say I was shocked and really can’t articulate anything about it. Wordless.

It’s odd though, because before I read the article, I was thinking that everything is going well. I finally got all of my permesso papers turned in, I’ve had a great few days with my classes, some snags at the bookstore that are minor — all in all, I feel great. And then, someone I don’t know, never would have known, and he dies young, and everything goes haywire. Anyway, like I said, I can’t truly express anything about this. It feels awkward even mourning a stranger, but for whatever reason, I am.

On to some good news (especially for those of you that like pictures) Mendy has finally started a blog. And I do believe she is coming to see me soon? So, naturally I’m adding her to the blogroll and please check in with the life o’mendy. It’s bound to be a fun and travel-filled one.

Sorry it has been a few days, but (in spite of the month) they’ve been good ones. And for my birthday I think I’m headed to Trieste and staying at the James Joyce Hotel. More about that when I get back though.

Go watch Brokeback Mountain and remember a great actor we’ve lost.

Spots of gold

After berating poor January, I should announce I feel much better. While watching the rain splutter this afternoon, I looked into my room from the outside. One of the things I enjoy the most in this dwelling is the lighting. The lights all have a golden ambiance that emits warmth and rest. Warmth and rest are what we all need. And in this case, the scene inspired me. It inspired me to stay indoors and contemplate the state of things. My state of things is rather sundry, but that is a constant. And if sundry is a lot that I must bear, then so be it. Worse things could happen.

So in spite of the weather, my jobs, and my remove from some great people, there are always small spots of light. Perfect, no. But they warm nonetheless.

Since I’ve been not giving you too much political, thought I’d do it with a smile. Here’s some Jon Stewart for you. Writer’s strike or not, he’s great.

Jon Stewart on South Carolina republican debate.

Pasticceria

Yumm. I just had to share these few pictures of the artistry that is food, especially sweets. Happy Monday!!

Pasticceria

On being a woman

This little gem cracked me up today.

On being a woman

Why is it, when I am in Rome,
I’d give an eye to be at home,
But when on native earth I be,
My soul is sick for Italy?

And why with you, my love, my lord,
Am I spectacularly bored,
Yet do you up and leave me—then
I scream to have you back again?
—Dorothy Parker

Gennaio

Devon wrote a letter to January on her blog and I’m tempted to do the same. Instead I’ll just say that today seems like a short version of January so far. It’s raining out and already dark. Chilly. Damp. My wastebasket at work is full of Kleenex. The mind is fixated on the end of the day. I want to find a warm place, put my head down, and wake up when this month is over. This month, this season, I’m sick of it. I hate winter. Truly and with a passion. I used to be more forgiving, occasionally I could see the joy in the crisp air and the dying time lit up with lights. I  would take the opportunity to curl up under blankets and read. Hot chocolate can be appreciated. Now I just see it for what it is—something to endure.

And yes, it’s my birth month so I should be a little more compassionate, but no more. I can’t help it if I was born in the worst month of the year. The month everyone gets sick in. The month everyone wants to escape from. This bleak, cold, isolated, unforgiving, stretch of days is now dead to me. My only goal is to be free from its frigid grasp.

And yes, February, you suck too. I’ll just go ahead and say it. Both of you get a lifelong time out from me. So go sit in the corner and I don’t want to hear one word from your thin-lipped mouths. (Pissy little creatures that you are.)

Wow, I really feel better. Thanks.

Out of commission

You guessed it, it’s January. And that means I have the Florence Flu. Even the doctor pointed out, didn’t you have this the same time last year? Yeah, and the year before that.

My goal is to not be in Florence during January.

So, between the chills, delirium, fever, and — something I can only describe as — liquid head, I’m probably not going to be around much. Maybe this weekend? We’ll see, antibiotics early on could help.

Stay healthy.

Befana

It’s the day before Befana here. La Befana is a witch that belatedly goes out searching for the baby in the manger and she is more popular in Italy than Santa Claus. Needless to say, I love her. The night before the Epiphany she leaves children treats or coal — depending on their behavior. Sound familiar?

Her popularity seems unexpected in a place where beauty is idealized. Obvious proof that a good story can sway public opinion. And she is the official end of the holiday season. (Of course the Italians celebrate longer than the rest of us!) So, take a moment and reflect on the good stories in your life and enjoy a bit of wicked with your spiritual self.

Consider that your treat, from me to you. And now for the lump of coal:

Unemployment sounds warning about the economy.

sorry, I had to.

It’s a 2-fer day.

Perhaps carving into books should go against my librarian spirit, but my friend Cheryl sent me a link to this artist and I have to share.

Truly incredible creations.

http://centripetalnotion.com/2007/09/13/13:26:26/#more-550

It took a minute for all of the pictures to load. But please take a moment to enjoy.