*cricket sound*

This may be a very quiet post. At least it should be a quiet post.

I have 4 more days here. I’ve been packing and assessing and enjoying.

Made my farewells to my students and employers.

Trying to plan what to do with these last hours besides cleaning, staring at suitcases and thinking. Thinking is tiresome.

But most of my last moments are of me walking around the house, the neighborhood, the everyday. On the 17 bus, on the bike. Under the sun. It’s heartbreaking enough. It’s beautiful enough. Nothing will change here. I’ll just be absent. And that’s ok. That’s normal. That’s life.

And I’ll be present somewhere else. I hope it’s ok, hope it’s normal, and it’s life.

Südtirol

Also known as Alto Adige by the Italians, was formerly part of the Austrian Empire and then Austria-Hungary. All of this is my way of saying that it’s not very Italian. The buildings, the people, the food, etc. Of course, the Italian rail still services the area, so that part is still the same. When we arrived in Fortezza, we discovered that the rails to Valdaora were closed, so we had to wait for a bus.

Needless to say, that was really the only snag. Once we were picked up in Valdaora by the cook of the hotel, everything else was wonderful. I’m totally in love with this region of Italy. Altitude makes me energetic and I can think clearly. Plus the fact I was staying at a posh hotel with a sauna, pool and free massage . . . well, it was tough to leave. Mountains are where I ultimately need to spend most of my time. That became clear to me the second day as I strolled through town. I love wearing a jacket in July. Breathing is simply better. And the side effect is that everything else is simply better. (OK, winters on mountains are brutal, but I can always leave.)

While there, another epiphany occurred, I also love music. I mean, that sounds obvious, but really I’ve never been able to remember bands and songs I like, etc, so it always seemed to be second to literature. A distant second. But no, Nick Hornby’s 31 songs opened my eyes. He saved so many memories for me. It’s like part of my brain unlocked and all of the files of my past came pouring in. I think I may add 31 songs to my all time favorite book list. Drastic, maybe. So the whole stay there and the entire trip back was one long sound track. I’m actually working on that soundtrack now. It was a moment in my life, in the right place and with the perfect person to share it with.

Enjoy the pictures! Find your mental higher ground.

Valdaora

If anyone is listening, this is the sound of disappointment

The New York Times today sent me spiraling. Today’s headline makes it clear to me (I mean, really pounds it into my skull) that we live in a time of disparity, fear and uncertainty. Yet what really rubs the salt in the wound and gets my blood boiling, is the fact that my candidate, the person who initially spoke of change, the one who says “Yes we can”, the fantastic speaker and motivator and persuader and uplifter — yes, Barack Obama voted FOR the bill.

Oh you poor poor long ignored Bill of Rights. What happened to you? When was the first time your only view was the sight of our retreating backs? How much abuse can you continue to take before we just declare we are no longer empowered and protected by you?

Of course I’m still voting for Obama, but I’m watching him. Watching him with a heavier heart now. Political posturing is one thing, but voting is another.

that old thing

Packing so far has resulted in two huge blue IKEA bags full of clothes to donate. Seems simple. I’m the girl that complains about the amount of “stuff” we have, I like to cling to the idea that minimal is better (except for in the case of books, really, that’s still tough for me). And most of you that know me are laughing, right? I mean, I also love little treasures, small tokens of friendship, endearing triggers that help me remember.

Yet, in spite of my hypocrisy (or dichotomy or whatever, split personality) usually when it comes to clothes I am all about donating. And I’m doing it now. With startling results. I mean, come Fall you may find a large chunk of Florentines dressing like middle-aged librarians (probably not though). And yet . . . yeah, I’d forgotten a few snags in my desire for an almost clothes-less state. I am a sentimental creature.

There are 2 items of note that have made it to the “maybe” stack. One is a gray long sleeve t-shirt from the Gap that I bought around 1994. OK. I know. I mean, it is 14 years old now and well past it’s prime. But still, it saw Jane’s Addiction play. I remember the night I wore it to one of Shelle and Patrick’s Halloween parties (because I was lazy and dressed as a movie goer). I also remember Shelby saying that year (1998 I think) “Julia, shouldn’t you retire that?” That gray shirt also went to Ireland with me and my old boyfriend Keith. I’m sure it went to Washington and Oregon with Mark and I. I used to wear flannel shirts over it in the late Fall. The shirt has history, it has been a constant during my adult years.

And then there is the tree outfit. Well, the outfit is down to the blazer part. Called the tree outfit because it is made from tencel. It was the first big thing Mark ever bought me and a gift on my 28th birthday. I know it cost him a lot of money because he bought it at one of those little boutiques in Virginia Highlands. It came in a brown sack with green ink. So earth friendly. He bought a dark brown neck scarf to match it. And I really was touched by the consideration and thrilled by it and wore it to work and well, you know, that is memorable. The first gift by your first love.

So these two things sit waiting judgement. I think I’ll give them away. Having written down the memories here helps (sorry to bore you all). And there are all of these other memories now, all of the things I can’t leave behind. Zoe art. Lori and Shelby letters. My writing angel. Books from Luigi. The list goes on, but you get the idea: stuff.

the day after

No fireworks for me yesterday, but I did spend it with good friends. I keep wanting to write about my last month here. Sort of a top 25 things I’ll miss, or just inundate you with pictures and description; but the truth is I’m void of the energy or the will. Instead, I will pick this post to talk about the things I’m looking forward to coming back to or discovering. (friends, family and cats don’t count because that is obvious)

In no particular order:

• Sending text messages to my American and Italian friends. I’m getting a tri band phone so I can communicate with everyone.
• driving down the road and understanding everything on the radio
• air conditioning
• multi-plex theaters
• wide range and variety of restaurants
• public library
• campaigning for Obama
• Publix sub
• Sweetwater Blue beer
• having deep conversations with random people about the state of the world and not worrying about conjugating verbs correctly or being able to argue and complain effectively
• clothes that fit
• shoes that fit
• (keeping my fingers crossed on this one) a job with benefits in a field I’ve actually studied
• going to a Braves game

To some, this may seem like a trite list. It’s not got the depth and desire someone else could come up with. I mean, I could have put hearing Southern accents, and sweet iced tea, and feeling like I was in my element. Maybe I could even share the recent conversations with ex-pat friends about how difficult it is to be here, the futility, the invisibility, the hostility, etc. But really, that is only a part of the picture. And for me to put on the list, say, feeling embraced by my surroundings would make it seem like I’m not appreciated here (and I am). It’s just different. So, my list is only of the things I really can’t have here. Yes, they are superficial things. Then again, you don’t know how deep my love for the Publix sub runs.

Hope everyone celebrated Independence in some form yesterday.