Day 18 - Tuesday June 8th

Tuesday June 8th

This morning I woke up light as a feather because I was leaving. I did a nervous poo though. Part of me was so afraid that the next farm was going to be even worse. And that this whole summer was some unreal fantasy in my head and I'm fucked basically.

Armando walked me down to the one bus that there is in that town. One bus in the morning goes down. One bus in the evening comes up. That is it. It was actually a little ten passenger van too. Which makes sense seen as how there are maybe 30 people that live in the village.

The van ride was a good opportunity to work on relaxing my puckered asshole and trusting that I would make it to the bottom alive no matter how many head on collisions we almost got ourselves into. And even if I didn't....what the fuck could I really do about it anyway?

The van dropped me off in Bibbiena at the train station. I got my ticket, but was totally confused. I asked for a ticket to Siena. She hands me two tickets. Eventually I understood that I had to take a train to the next town, and then catch the bus. At least I think that's what she said. I went out to the tracks and waited on the opposite side as when I arrived, since I was going back the way I came from. This made sense to me. Then all of the sudden everyone runs to the underpass and pops up on the other side on a different track. I hear some sort of announcement and from it I gather that the train to Arezzo is on track 2. Two girls were sitting next to me and I said "Scuzi....due?" and they said no, no and pointed. Well fuck. I lugged my suitcase down the stairs and then back up the stairs and popped up on the other side just as the train rolled up. The dude came by to punch our tickets and he starts rambling so shit in Italian to me while he's scrutinizing my ticket. I say "Mi dispiatche...non capisco Italiano". He scribbles something on my ticket and hands it back. Maybe I was supposed to take a bus and not a train? So I had a bus ticket instead of a train ticket? Well it doesn't matter because I got to where I was going in the end.

Italy is great and I love how all of Europe is basically connected by rail...but for fucks sake...would it kill them to announce stops, or at least label them? How bout some signage people? Especially since there's not much distinguishing each stop. They all look the same. I heard an Italian woman speaking English so I asked her about my stop. She was getting off there too. She pointed me to the bus depot once we got off. Which was a fucking good thing because it was sort of out of the way.

There was an assload of buses parked there so I walked up to a random driver and asked about the bus to Siena. He pointed down. I asked the driver down there. He said the next bus wasn't for four hours. For a split second I was like...fucking great. Four fucking hours to sit on my fat ass. But then I was like...oh wait, this is perfect. I can explore Arezzo for four hours, what the fuck am I saying? And Frances Mayes talks about this town a lot in the book. I can see why.

You know what I dig about me? My awesome sense of direction. Seriously. Although maps frustrate me. Interesting. I just started wandering around trying to get as deep into town as I could and it was great. A totally classic Tuscan hill town. I started walking uphill up one of the main roads and there were tons of cute shops and restaurants. I saw a sign for Palazzo Grande and figured I'd check that out. Boy was that a fucking hike. And my suitcase....oh my goddamn orange suitcase. I just kept praising whoever invented wheely suitcases. Because I would have fucking died had I had to carry that mother up those steep as shit streets. I was sweating balls by the time I got there, but I knew it'd be worth it. At first it wasn't because the Palazzo was all gated up for tons of construction and there was no one around:

I figured this couldn't be it for me. This was not why I had lugged my suitcase up this fucking hill. I kept wandering and the road curved around and dumped me into the most magical park ever. It was basically on the side of the hill and had one of the most stunning views I had ever seen - rolling hills, cypress trees, more shades of green than I had ever seen - and all of this for as far as the eye could see. A total post card image.

After I left the park I stumbled onto the visitors office where I was able to dump off my bag for free. Sweet. Although I thought it was ironic how the office was at the top of the fucking hill. They couldn't have put it down by the station or something? You gotta make people hike with all their shit? This picture does not do the hike justice at all...but maybe you can get some idea:

Then I started off to find lunch. You know what's funny? I desperately miss speaking English to people. But when I see an English sign in a restaurant it totally turns me off. I don't want to eat somewhere that caters to tourists. I want to eat where Italians eat. I was bombarded by a huge group of school kids so I followed them around for a little while, hoping they would lead me to food. They did. I figured 4 hungry teenage girls knew what was up so I followed them into a cafe. This place definitely didn't cater to tourists. It was beautiful though. Big pictures windows with gold scrolling writing. A beautiful wood bar and lots of amazing art. And of course, a gorgeous glass case with all kinds of treats in it. I grabbed a sandwich and the lady started speaking really fast to me. I had no idea what the fuck she was saying, but based on her gestures I think she was asking me if I wanted my sandwich to stay or to go. I remember that it sometimes costs more to stay, so I snatched it from her bony hand. Haha.

I went outside and sat on the church steps and enjoyed basically the best sandwich of my entire life. It was on what looked like a plain french roll, but when I bit into it, it was more like a croissant. Fucking light and buttery and perfect. There were generous slices of creamy provolone cheese and lots of thinly sliced juicy tomato. And a sprinkling of oregano. Heaven. And for only 1.50! I totally could've eaten another but I thought it would be fun to go somewhere and experience another place for more food. And that was a great call. About half way down the road I saw this guy sitting in a folding chair outside of a shop. He was just cute. And there was a sign in the window above his head that said "Home made scones with jam, cream". I walked past it. But then something made me turn around. I walked in and the dude leapt up from his chair and ran inside and around the counter to greet me. It was so cute. And he was the spitting image of my ex boyfriends brother, Keith Lamont, who I had a mad ass crush on. Dark hair, kind of longer, but perfectly strait - shiny but not greasy. Total baby face, perfect skin, pouty lips, a tiny bit of stubble in random patches. Cute little body too - not a ton of definition in his arms, a round little bit of a belly. Jeans and a polo shirt with thick red and shit strips on it. Totally cute. He paid so much attention to detail too. It wasn't like getting a scone at Paradise Bakery where they just throw it on some piece of shit doily and chuck it at you. He sliced it, warmed it, buttered it, spread some jam and then topped it with a cute little mountain of whipped cream. Then he offered me some tea. Well, of course. You can't have the worlds best home made scone without tea. He brewed it for me and poured in the cutest little cup on a saucer with one of those tiny spoons that I love. And a little pot of milk and some sugar. Perfection. I went to pay him and he said "No, no, you sit and enjoy. Then we do that." I forgot that's how it works. I sat at the little bar and looked up to see shit loads of bottles of hard liquor on a shelf. I thought it was funny - this dainty little bakery/coffee shop, but they also serve liquor. Anyway...we chatted the whole time. He has a girlfriend who he lives with. He is 30 but does not want kids yet. He'd rather ride his bike on Sundays than change nappies. Then this woman came in, cutest fucking thing I have ever seen. She was perfectly tan and had her highlighted hair piled on top of her head in a way that looked messy, yet intentional. She had on a short skirt and a ruffly top. And a British accent to top it all off. She seemed to know the dude behind the bar well and she was super warm and inviting. Turns out she's the one who makes the scones! How funny. She had to run to the ATM and when she walked out dude (I never got his name) and I laughed at how adorable she was. She was 50 too! And a grandma. I wanna look that hot and be that spunky when I'm 50. She reminded me of Pam!

So, to continue my perfect day, I went to retrieve my bag and head to the bus depot. Turns out 4 hours was the perfect amount of time. I popped into another beautiful bar and bought 25 stamps and an orange pellegrino. That was one of the best things I have ever put in my mouth.

A few more pictures from around town:

The bus to Siena was beautiful. It was new and very comfortable. I got a seat right up front so I was able to see out the big window in front of me and on the sides. And I was listening to my Italy play list on my IPOD. I felt like I was in a movie. It was such a beautiful drive. This is the way to see Italy - just take the public busses from town to town. Way cheaper than a big fancy tour. I also kept listening to TV theme songs over and over again - "Felicity", "7th Heaven", "Six Feet Under".
Siena is so beautiful. Literally the bus rounded this corner and you could see the duomo and the square and half the bus gasped. It was breathtaking. I got off my bus, went into the bar and bought another bus ticket, and then continued on my final leg of the journey - this last bus to Grosetto. Once again, another insanely beautiful ride through the countryside.

Paolo picked me up and he had the other American WWOOFer with him - a totally cute boy named Kyle. It was funny - I spoke to both of them on the phone and neither looked at all how I pictured them. I pictured Paolo young - sort of like the Paolo Rachel dated on Friends. I pictured him tall and lean with jet black curls and dressed a little metro. Kyle had a bit of a southern drawl and sounded like a big gay man of society. As it turns out, Paolo is in his 60s. He's in great shape and has permanent 3 day old stubble. He has salt and pepper curly hair and a great sense of humor. Kyle just looked young. Turns out he was 21, but he could've passed for 15. Although he is really well spoken. Meeting him face to face did not change the fact that he has one of the most awesome voices ever.

The ride to the house was so much fun. We talked the whole way. They are both totally fascinated by my doula work and we talked about that a lot. Kyle studied attachment disorders so he had actually heard of a doula. He is going to Yale to get a doctorate in Italian Literature. He is also the leader, or at least a part of, a bunch of interesting extra curricular groups. He sounds like the biggest nerd ever, but he is adorable. Very well spoken and super easy to talk to. He had some very funny stories. One summer her worked as a paralegal for an Atlanta law firm that specializes in sexual harassment cases. He had two main jobs - to answer the phone and weed out people who had legitimate cases, and then to write demand letters - basically a letter that says we're about to sue you. So if you want you can pay us a bunch of money and then we'll all sign papers saying we won't sue you. Hahaha. He had a woman call once and he put on the best black southern woman accent to recreate the moment for me. She said "So I done and gone in for one a them stress tests. And they aks me take off my bra...can you believe that? Then I find out they only aks obese people tah take of them bras and I am not obese! I am a beautiful woman! I am 5 foot two and 193 pounds brothah! Then they done put them nodes close to my breasts and they was playin with em - with the nodes, I swear to you. They was tweaking them nodes like they was nipples! Doin stuff to em that I only let my boyfriend do!" Kyle said basically at this point he was hypervenalating and he put the call on speaker and called the rest of the office over to hear. Then he politely referred her to a law firm that specializes in medical malpractice.

I asked him what the dating scene was like at Yale. He said all of the cliches about college just do not apply at Yale because it is another world. He started off at a state school with normal people, and then transferred. He said everyone at Yale is super competitive and its mainly hook ups because people don't have time for relationships. He said one time had been with this girl and they were laying there looking thru the paper together. he said he just couldn't believe that Caroline Kennedy was going for the empty New York seat since she wasn't qualified at all. She was just a Kennedy. The girl he was with said "I know. That's what I keep telling her". Kyle said "As it turns out, I was sleeping with Caroline Kennedy's daughter."

He also said no one really talks or bonds at Yale so he started the Porch Club where everyone comes over, sits outside, drinks spiked sweet tea and shares stories just like they do where he's from in Georgia. How cute is that? We should all do that. I asked him what the fucking big deal was with sweet tea - was it just tea that was sweetened? I swear you'd think I told him I just fucked his mother. He took a few deep inhales and stuttered trying to find the proper wording to accurately describe this issue that is so close to his heart. He starts describing brewing the tea and then pouring in a bunch of sugar while the water is still very hot. And then filling it up the rest of the way with cold water. But he's describing it in a very detailed way. I cut him off and said again "So, it's just tea that's been sweetened?" I mean really it is just tea that has been sweetened. That cracks me up.

The property here is stunning. I couldn't believe it when we pulled up. It was so beautiful - and it just keeps going and going and going.

The small pool:

The tennis court:

Cats....

The main house:

Mmmm....garlic.....

Staircase up to the second house:

My tent:

Hammock right outside my tent:

My meditation spot on the wall:

I don't even know how much land Paolo owns here, but it seems endless. And words just couldn't even describe it. It is literally in the Tuscan hills. I am under the Tuscan sun. Amazing. It is called Terranera. Of course it's the perfect place for me! It starts with Terra! They do organized retreats, but mostly people come to camp and hang out and be naked. There are two pools, a tennis court, an orchard, lots of little gardens, a vineyard, tons of room to camp and sunbath. I'd pay loads of money to be here. And Paolo just seems to have money. I am sure I will learn his story. He sells his wine and his olive oil. I am scouting out a way to bring back tons of both.

I took a shower to wash the train and bus stink off of me. It is an outdoor solar shower. So steaming hot water with a view of the countryside. Amazing. I could have stood there for hours. We definitely need an outdoor shower at Care-A-Lot. Especially since we could use it like 9 months out of the year.

I met Alexandra - she is from Romania and has been here working for Paolo for 10 years. She speaks fluent Italian at this point. And she basically has my dream job. She cooks and she cleans and she takes care of everyone in the house and all of the guests. She was cooking and Paolo was carving proscutto. He just had this giant cured leg sitting on this stand and he is so carefully slicing off these thin delicate little pieces. And he puts one in my mouth every so often. It is salty goodness melting on my tongue.

Alexandra made an amazing meal for dinner. Which we enjoyed outside. At a table under grape vines. While the sun was setting. Seriously.

There was pasta with cauliflower and pine nuts, a plate of tomatoes and basil, a big salad, home made bread, a cheese plate, and pitchers of Paolo's wine. And his olive oil. Oh, the olive oil. And the table was beautifully set with white plates and sparkling glasses. It was the meal I've had in my dreams like a million times. But real life was better. A friend of Paolo's joined us for dinner. He gussed my actual age - venti cinque. I don't like that. Usually people guess me way younger. Am I starting to look old now? This friend was 67, but had the attitude and energy of someone 30 years younger. Maybe it is the air up here. Or the fresh food. Or the Tuscan sun. Who knows. He was complaining about his wife, who also has 67 years, and how he doesn't know what to do with her anymore. I forget how he worded it, and of course it was in Italian so Kyle translated, but it was something to the effect of the fact that they have done everything there is to do sexually and she's just not into it anymore. But he still has the stamina of a horse. I love these people.

Then Paolo asked about gender roles and women's rights in the U.S. He had a ton of great opinions and said, more or less, that women sometimes regret the "women's movement" because now it seems like if you want to be a wife and mother you are somehow less than, say a woman with a career who tries to do just as much as a man does. I totally agree. And it does kind of suck. Especially for women like me who do want exactly that.

After we feasted we just sat there talking forever. Kyle asked Paolo what he wanted to do the next day and Paolo said he never made plans that far in advance. He said he doesn't understand people who live in so much certainty. And he doesn't understand people who can only do things if they have a backup plan, if they know all of the options, if they are certain. He just does things just to do them and then figures it out as he goes along. Paolo and I are fast friends.

Soon it was time for me to go to sleep. Alexandra had set up a tent for me outside and it was really sweet. Very big and a padded matress and comfy pillows and blankets. A small part of me was not looking forward to going to sleep. It was very dark outside and I've never slept in a tent outside alone before. But it was really great. I didn't feel alone. And I slept like a baby. Best. Day. Ever.

Day 17 - Monday, June 7th

This morning I shoveled more shit onto the potatoes. I know I should be grateful to be here and be doing this work, but I really am not. And I don't want to do the same thing every day. It is just so boring. And I don't like working alone. Where is the sense of community? Where is the conversation? Blah. It makes it feel like work. I came in a few hours later and freshened up. Then I went with Fiona again to the university. On the drive there we pass St Frances of Assis's monestary. It's actually kind of strange looking. It sort of juts out of the side of a mountain, and at night there is a light that shines up from below. It looks like it probably used to be flush with the mountain but bits have crumbled away since it's, I don't know, a fucking thousand years old and Italy is so goddamn seismic.

Fiona was talking about Italian beurocracy and how hard it is to get anything done in terms of building. She said that just to turn their garage into a living space they had to have a surveyor come out and they had to pay a bunch of money and make up this big proposal. And it took forever. And especially in the smaller villages they want to keep everything looking the same. So new houses have to be made out of stone and basically made out of all the same materials that every other ancient house is made out of. Fiona has a friend who is trying to build an eco village and make houses out of wood. She thinks wood is a good idea because "it can move, instead of just collapsing and crumbling...and if it does collapse on you, it is lighter..." and she's totally serious. I almost laughed out loud.

We also talked about the schools in the smaller villages. Her girls go to a school where 3rd, 4th and 5th year students are combined because the number of students is so low. And there is a woman in Corezzo (where the closest school is) who has a restaurant that is only open for dinner. So at lunch time she comes over to the school and cooks for the students and faculty. Can you imagine that? Fiona also said that a lot of bigger towns are starting to do 6 day school weeks, but have shorter days. So like 8:30 to 1:30, but 6 days a week. This isn't feasible for their school because for most of the kids it is quite a hike to get to the school so making that hike for a shorter day just doesn't make sense.

I had already seen most of San Sepolcro last week and it didn't excite me. I figured I'd just grab gelato and some fruit for dinner and head back to use the internet. But it was siesta and everything was closed. I tell you - it's almost the best time to see a town. It's like a ghost town and you have the whole place to yourself. Where do all these people go during siesta? Do they go home? Do they hide out in their shops with the shades drawn? Who knows. Even the church doors were locked. Eventually I got my chocolate gelato and it was damn good. Even better with alternating bites of my banana.

I used the computer for a few hours until Fiona was done teaching. She comes in after and says she doesn't understand how I can be on the computer for so long. Oh really? Well I don't understand how you can live in such a bull shit town without going fucking crazy. So I guess we're even.

The drive home was hilar. These fucking little back roads on the mountains are ridiculous. There are no lane lines and I would swear there was not room for two fucking smart cars to pass each other. But there is. My asshole puckers though whenever Fiona is like cruising along fast and then all of the sudden breaks and swerves for an animal. If it is like a fucking moose, then ok. But a goddamn little bunny? I love animals just as much as the next PETA protester, but I'm sorry....I'd rather have that furry carcas smeared on my tires rather then drive off the fucking mountain and plumet to my death. Wouldn't that be a funny way to go though...."Katie went to Italy for a summer of change and adventure....and her WWOOF host drove her off a cliff. The end."

Day 16 - Sunday June 6th

Today started out as another super boring day stuck on top of a mountain. I think I need to move on to another farm. This just isn't my scene at all and it's making me a little crazy.

Thankfully we went to the river in the afternoon. That was really beautiful. Kinda of looked like Slide Rock. Then the most beautiful Italian man came from out of nowhere, got down to his speedo and laid about 3 feet from me. Just laid there in all his glory reading his book and sunbathing. Most of the men there were wearing speedos. This please me.

We spent the afternoon there and it was nice and all, but I still feel like I need to go. I specifically avoided contacting farms that said they were in remote areas. I can't imagine what they must be like since this farm does not consider itself remote. It's insanely beautiful, but there is just nothing here. There is a bar that sometimes opens in the evenings. And it's really just for old people to play cards. And there is a post office that is open two mornings a week. I think I need more stimulation than that. Or maybe I don't. Maybe I just need different people and a place where the energy is better. So stimulation in a differeny way. There is only so much reading and writing and meditating and yoga-ing and self discovering that one can do before they want to pull their hair out. Or maybe I am just a whiny little bitch who needs to put her foot in her mouth. Who knows.

Oh, and Gaia? I might murder her if I stay. So this is another reason to go. She creeps me the fuck out. Even when she sleeps she looks fucking creepy. I keep fearing I am going to wake up with her standing over my bed, speechless, with a big cleaver and chop my fucking head off. After we got back from the river I was able to take a shower. It's only cold water unless someone hikes up to get wood for the water heater. Anyway, Gaia comes into the bathroom in the middle of my delicious shower and took a fucking dump! I know she's five and has no concept of personal boundaries, but it was just so perfect. I already want to smack the crap out of her and then she comes in and shits. What a bitch.

Day 15 - Saturday, June 5th

Today was one of the most boring days on record for my life I think. I guess not totally boring because I hung out with myself and wrote a lot and processed and ended the day with a big fat cry. So I suppose maybe it was absolutely necessary.

Day 14 - Friday, June 4th

After breakfast this morning, Fiona and I worked outside for a while. I finished covering the potatoes with all of that awesome poop. Then I weeded the carrot patch for a while. I think weeding might be my new favorite thing. It just looks so pretty when you're done. It is a lot of work though - all of this land. I can't believe David made Care-A-Lot by himself. What a crazy thought.

Then the bells rang, which meant it was noon. They ring ever day at noon and 6:30pm. Fiona and I went inside and made lunch. Rice, lentils, fried zucchini and this cauliflower/potato/ginger mash up. Yum!

I do not like being bored. Or lonely. Both really suck. If I can keep busy then everything is A-ok. But it's the moments of down time that really get me. Or when the neighbors are coming in and out dropping stuff off or calling their kids home and everyone is chattering so fast and I don't understand anything they are saying. It's funny because I feel totally welcome here, but at the same time like such an outsider. I wish I could shake this sinus thing too. I am so tired of coughing and not being able to breathe. It's funny though, I'm used to it now.

Later in the evening Fiona dropped me and the girls off at the field at the bottom of the hill. She had a private English lesson and figured Gaia and I could watch Nila's football game while she was gone. Seemed easy enough, but jesus christ Gaia is a hand full. She is non stop and can be super obnoxious. But I love Italian accents speaking English. She drew a picture and came up to me and said "Thees ees a weetch." I love it.

Everyone got really into the game and it was funny hearing all the stuff they were screaming. Also - Italian snack bars - waaaaay better than anything I've ever encountered at home. Better than the concessions at Yankee Stadium even. Fresh bread with thinly sliced proscuitto, crepes with nutella, a pita with tomato, motzerella and balsamic. Seriously. None of this hot dog and nacho shit.

By the end of the game though Gaia was starting to get to me and I was checking my phone every few minutes dying for Fiona to get there. I was so happy to see her. I do babies. I don't do kids. No thank you.

Day 7 - Friday, May 28th

This morning I woke up feeling better, but still pretty shitty. Terra and I went to Whole Foods for breakfast. Then we went over and napped in Central Park. There was a dude trying to sell us stuff and Terra was politely saying no at first, but he was super persistent. She squealed in her sweetest voice ever "Absolutely fucking no!" I think I will laugh about that til the day I die. Magda met up with us a bit later and Terra did a body talk session on her that was really fantastic. Magda was so receptive. It was great. Then Terra did a session on me that was so incredible rockin - I'll spare the details here, but if you'd like to know - email me!

I was still feeling like crap and I knew that I needed a hot shower, a warm bed and some more good food or I was really in for it. So I went on Priceline and got us a hotel. And a bangin hotel at that. We grabbed more yummies at Whole Foods and checked into our fabulous paradise:

It was incredibly hip and chic and the staff was super friendly. Here's the view from our window:

They totally gave us the sex room too. It was kind of funny. It's set up where basically the shower is a stall shower, but it's all glass. And it's open on three sides. So a person could be lying bed watching his lover shower through the glass. That's how it's set up. It was kind of funny. Of course you can close a curtain and have some privacy too :)

I took the worlds most amazing shower and just stayed wrapped in a towel under the covers. Terra made me some tea and spread out our feast on the bed. I talked to Pam and she helped me (in addition to all that Terra had done) process a lot of what was going on that I think also contributed to me not feeling so hot. I did a lot of writing, took another hot shower and then we went sleep early.

Day 13 - Thursday, June 3rd

Today I was in kind of a funk. I woke up and felt lonely. It didn't help going downstairs and having it be empty. I got some breakfast and then Armando came back. He was running off somewhere for the weekend though. We took a quick walk through the fields and he showed me three huge piles of manure that needed to be spread on the rows of potatoes that are just starting to come up in the field. Working in the field is the most beautiful place on earth. Seriously - remember that scene in The Sound of Music when Julie Andrews is spinning circles and singing 'The hills are alive....with the sound of music....' That's what this place looks like.

It started raining so I couldn't finish shoveling the shit. I went inside the shed and started priming pieces of fencing that will be put up to keep the neighboring farms horses out. Still feeling lonely. It's just me in the shed and I wish there were others around. There is another couple coming to WWOOF next week and I look forward to that. But still I enjoy myself. I love the sound of the rain on the roof.

After lunch Fiona and I left for San Sepolcro - she teaches Thursday nights. On the way we stopped at a big chain grocery store and I noticed that just about everything was labeled clearly, and almost everything was local. How cool is that? Afterwards we parked at the school and I went off to explore the town.

A drinking fountain....

I started walking through town and feel totally scared and weird. I feel like everyone is staring at me and one look and they know I'm American and don't speak Italian. It's silly, I know, but it's how I felt. I am scared to talk to anyone. I know I have to though if I want to get something to eat. I wander the narrow streets and take lots of amazing pictures. It starts to sprinkle rain. This makes me feel better.

I find a bench to rest on and no one seems to be noticing me. This I prefer. I decide that I don't like traveling alone, especially somewhere I don't speak the language. But I will of course make the best of my current situation. I hope I can remember where the school is. I feel I have a general idea of which direction I came and I am thankful for that. I try to think of more things to be tahnkful for. I feel better.

I stumble into the piazza and go inside the basilica there. I love the way old churches smell. Like old library books. I sit there for a while and take a one minute vacation that turns into like 20 minutes of daydreaming. I'm not even gonna say what I dreamt about. It's way too embarassing. But it was great!

I see a frutta e verdura shop and I feel ok going in here. I think I am getting more and more sensitive to energy because this was the first shop I even considered going in. All the others felt way to intimidating. The lady in here was nice. Ciao, ciao, we exchange polite greetings. I grab some food and go find a spot to sit. There is a water fountain coming out of the wall so I fill up my container. I go back to the basilica steps and sit and eat.

Afterwards I work up enough courage to go into the gelato shop. I feel good. There is no one else in the shop and the girl at the counter has a sweet face. Ciao, I say. Per me un nociola. She says something really fast in Italian. Thank the fuck christ Italians talk with their hands or I would've had no fucking idea what she was saying. Si, si, a cone, per favore. She says something else really fast and I manage to make out 'piccolo' with the inflection of a question. I say Si, si, piccolo. I make it out of there unscathed.

I feel less like I'm sticking out like a sore thumb now that I have my gelato cone. Like, how dumb could I be? I found the gelato shop and ordered myself a cone, right? There seems to be nothing more Italian then strolling through the piazza at this hour with gelato. Everyone else is doin it.

There are more people out now too. I like this. A little boy waves at me from his dads shoulders. I think of everything I could've said moments too late. It's ok. I'll get quicker with my Italian.

There aren't many fat Italians I notice. There is very little traffic. Most town squares are closed off to traffic. An old woman walks by wearing a tight white t shirt with fake necklaces printed on it. Lots of old ladies on bicycles.

There are groups of people with bags full of fresh rose petals making amazing designs in the street. I flash to Danielle throwing rose petals on me that day I lay naked in the clovers.

People really stare here. I notice this. I hope it's because they think I am cute. I feel this one guy staring at me as he is walking by. I look up and he smiles and nods. I blush, smile and look back down at my journal. I am shy in Italy. A group of four walk by my for the second time in a few minutes. They whistle. I smile, but I don't look up. I don't feel like engaging four Italian boys. No really, I don't. Haha.

I start walking back to the school. It is sunset - my favorite time of day. I feel like I am on top of the world. I am in a beautiful neighborhood and the weather is perfect. Yes, yes, yes.

And I am a writer? Armando asks what I do....do I paint? No. Do I sing? No. Do I play an instrument? No. Then he sees me writing and exclaims: 'OH!! You are a WRITER. Ok, this is good, this is your art'.