Avevo paura…ho avuto paura…avevo avuto paura. Prima, avevo paura delle molte cose. I have been afraid…I was afraid…I had been afraid. But now — now I am brave. The first thing that I was afraid of, when I arrived, was the shower. You know, the shower. As in — a way for me to become clean again after walking miles and miles through the city. Or after sleeping. Or after cooking with garlic. The shower is very, very narrow (la doccia è molto stretta — quasi troppo…). It is probably only about twenty-two inches square…and the shower entry is…
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Allora…so…siamo arrivati. We have arrived. Today is Day Numero 6. When we arrived, at first, I was sure, absolutely sure that I was fine. I am fine. I am functioning. I slept (un po’) on the plane…so…fine. We took a MyTaxi from MXP to our apartment in the Navigli (canals) district. We found the apartment. We opened the door. Dark. Reeking of cigarettes. I will have to adjust, I thought. Next I thought: What the devil did we do? (or WTAF if you want me to use my full expression of our language…) We will be…
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Among the adventures I have always wanted but never told was to be here, where I am. When we drove up we saw elk and moose and snow on the peaks. This, of course, ridiculous because I am so relieved that at home things are finally green and blooming and spring….but the snow on the mountains still makes me go “ahhhhhhh”. After yesterday’s odd restaurant encounter we decided to try the evening at the hot springs….and it turns out that I am old and fussier than I used to be about germs….and now I understand that I am truly a…
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I am telling this story against my better judgement. But apparently, it wants to be told. Special thanks to P for letting me tell it. So. She heard from a colleague that it probably wasn’t a good idea for her to buy that house because he had heard that it was haunted. Pish posh. The house was gorgeous. They bought it. It was pretty soon after they moved into the house that their little boy was having trouble sleeping. He mentioned the “grandfather” who was singing to him in his room. He bounced early in the…
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This week for my birthday I wanted to do something special… for someone else. I figured, eh, why not…? I didn’t really need a treat so I thought I would treat someone else. Now recently I haven’t gone to any coffee or tea houses — I have been choosing, instead, to have all my drinks from home. Breaking a habit, you might say. But….for the first time since the beginning of the year I had to pick up tea in a disposable cup — and I stopped at SB….in the drive-thru lane. I ordered one Venti Emperor’s…
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I am in a place where we count short blocks and long blocks. Yesterday we went from 74th to 31st – it took no time at all because it was short blocks. I love the short blocks! Two buildings – three, maybe. A few doorways – lickety-split – you are on the next street! I can make a lot of ground by the short blocks. I can really get somewhere. I can get somewhere – faster. But ahhhh…there is definitely some charm to the long blocks. On a long block you and walk and walk and walk along tree-lined parkways,…
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I recently read a piece from Maya Angelou: she said that although she had a large house, she retained a hotel room in town. On the desk of the room she had only a deck of cards, crossword puzzles and a pad of paper—and a pen. She would take herself out of her comfort and her distractions and would sit and pretend to play solitaire – to trick herself into writing. Reading this was an enormous comfort to me. Here I am thinking that once I stake my flag in the sand saying that I will always be brilliant…
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According to B, my new glasses make me look like Professor Trelawney. Decide for yourself: Of course, this fact, when mentioned to one man last evening, caused him to throw his head back in laughter. Sigh. If you somehow have missed the Harry Potter culture, Professor Trelawney (shown here played by Emma Thompson) was a professor at the magical Hogwarts boarding school attended by the iconic underdog-hero Harry Potter. She was a professor of divination — the art and act of predicting the future, unraveling the past and puzzling over the present. She lived and taught in the…
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It was a dark and snowy night and I was elbow deep in disco dust. It seems that there is seduction in sweets. Not the diabetic coma that follows indulgence– but the colors and the shine and the sparkle of the processed cane – it’s so freaking shiny. My new thrill is touching it. Not one pinch passes over my lips – it’s fine chemistry between me and a cupcake. Not to eat, no no no. But to color. But to caress. And oh, oh, oh, I want to sugar sext. As I cream the buttercream I am fondling the…