Absentee Ballot

Still looking for work.

But I've had some adventures since my last post, which have (in my cheerful moments) convinced me that it's okay to be at loose ends even though the world is in a crisis and in six months I'll be a quarter-of-a-century years old.

In seven days, I walked a runway, got my hair cut on stage in front of hundreds of people, had my makeup done for the first time, found out that I have a Maserati (not Fiat) face, was informed that 4 inch heels are just barely high enough (those shoes lift me to the grand height of 6 foot 2 inches, if you're interested), and sweated it out in front of a real camera for the first time. I made a historic pilgrimage (doubling as a 40 minute hike) four times, translated a relay race handbook and found a place that will make soy milk cappuccinos for my milk-hating stomach. These experiences brought only enjoyment.

Possibly the best of all, though - and certainly the most important - is when I voted on camera.

I'd sleep better if I had a regular routine and a paycheck, but this isn't so bad.

In Search of Gold

Since I got back to Bologna about a week and a half ago, I've been overly stressing myself about finding work. It actually makes sense that I haven't found my perfect job in 11 days, doesn't it? I think that a job search makes it easy to lose perspective, and I'm trying not to (though in some moments it's pretty frustrating).



The possibilities open to tall female English speakers are very strange, and sometimes promising - sometimes depressing. Interpreting jobs may be based on your skill at speaking another language; or it may be based on your hair color and height.



I've already had some amusing adventures. Yesterday I met an Italian girl who is taller than I am (an unseen feat in my two years here). She told me that when she doesn't want to be bothered on the street, she wears heels. That way, men (all of whom are much shorter, obviously) just stare at her in shock and are unable to make annoying comments.



If I were better at wearing heels, I would consider this idea myself.



In the end I suppose I just have to accept the fact that transitions suck. Someday when I become inspired to write a book about this whole experience, which becomes an Oscar-winning movie, and then a syndicated TV show with reruns on Lifetime, I'll say it was all worth it.

(P.S. These photos were taken this summer at this exceptional vineyard in southwestern Sicily. Go there someday if you ever have the opportunity.)

Bi-Coastal

Having just returned to Bologna after my weeks in Cambridge (and DC and NYC), I'm feeling a bit sad and disoriented. Jetlag is only a small part of it. It's odd to feel at home in two places so far away from each other. I wish there was an easier way to go between my two homes.

My first post-trip blog entry must, of course, center on the wonderful lobster meal that I had with my father. This dinner was a subject of much planning and anticipation. If you don't know this already, Boston is a good place to eat lobsters. Especially at Legal Seafood. Here I am with mine (what happiness!) . . .



And here's my dad with his. (His happiness may be even more intense. Please note that we were real high-rollers and we got medium sized lobsters.)



As you can see, he's holding his hand back to stop himself from devouring the lobster while I take the photo.

If you've ever eaten one, you know that lobsters are not the easiest creatures to pull apart. It takes strength and determination to get all the meat out of there. But it's so satisfying. And once you've gotten the hang of it, you want to keep going.



Not so different from my bi-coastal lifestyle.

My Prize: Grazie Serenaaaaa!!

Right before leaving for Cambridge, I found out that I received a blogging prize, Punto d'Arte della Vita, thanks to the lovely Serena. The explanation and rules are here in Italian and English.




Si tratta del premio di qualita'di Punto d'Arte della Vita, creato tempo addietro per onorare e riconoscere il lavoro svolto dai bloggers,i loro blog motivano la "terapia d'arte":

Ecco le regole:
1)Indicare da chi si è ricevuto
2)Dire perché si è deciso di creare il blog:
3)Dire qual è la propria arte preferita.
4)Onorare altri blogs amici.

The Punto d'Arte della Vita award was created some time ago to honor and recognize the work of bloggers whose blogs inspire or motivate "art therapy".

The rules are:
1) Indicate who awarded you.
2) Explain why you created your blog.
3) Describe your favorite type of art.
4) Award other blogs.

I'll try to follow the rules!

As I wrote above, my friend Serena gave me this award.

I created my blog as a travel journal at the suggestion of one of my NYU professors, June Foley. I wanted a place to note down my impressions of Bologna and put up photographs. I knew that it would be a good way to motivate myself to do more than just write emails, since I'm not really a diary person. I think that June realized, when she made her suggestion, that the experience would be much more fulfilling than I expected. I've really come to see my blog as a sort of scrapbook or album of my experience over the past two years. I think that my readership has gone down with every moment, but I know and love everyone who comes here!

My favorite type of art - this is difficult. I will never stop loving photography, especially certain images, like those by Sally Mann (who inspired me to pick up a camera in the first place). And creating photographs is something that's a part of me.



But I think that I only manage to lose myself in music and the written word. I have a split vote.

For my blogging friends: Eva, so that she will START BLOGGING. (Evina Boema, e' ora di cominciare con quel blog!) And Giorgio, so that he'll start another blog, for example: Via Avesella 24!

Happy Feet

In three days I'm going home to Cambridge, where I'll be until the end of September. When I first planned this trip, I made the choice to travel home this month so that my coworkers could take vacations during August. Also, because I wanted to attend family events that would take place this month.

Things have changed since then - no more job (luckily, my ex-coworkers got to go on their vacations regardless), and nothing to attend when I go home. I've been looking for work here, but have had mixed results and I realize that the search is going to be a long one. Over the last week, my roommates Massimo and Francesca (of 2 years and 1 year, respectively) both left the house. Now I have two new roomies, Corinna and Giorgio (ciao, Giorgio!). I've been instructed to manage the household as if it were my own, something I have no idea how to do. I found out two days ago that my work permit, for which I applied almost a year ago, was accepted and then rejected on the basis of a bureaucratic error - something that could've been entirely avoided. My expectations had been low, but it was still a huge disappointment.



Since I just got back from a terrific vacation, I don't feel prepared to depart for what seems like an undeserved (second) vacation. But there's something about going home that recharges me in a special way. There's a unique combination of one-eyed cat, abundant kimchi, and sweaty yoga that I can't find in Italy. I think that it'll be good for me, even if I haven't really earned more relaxation time.



Despite the transitions of this summer, and certain stresses which are now weighing on me, something strange happened in Italy during the past few months. I feel as if I've found piece of security blanket in Bologna that wasn't here before. Maybe it's because over the past few months I learned a lot about relying on myself. It's helped me open my eyes to the good stuff within the people around me, many of whom have supplied me with a great deal of unexpected love and support. So I'm stressed and jobless and permitless, but really lucky, too. And grateful.

Let's talk about food.

The food in Puglia is delicious. For this reason people are not happy when they have to wait for it.


There's seafood everywhere. In pasta, for example.

Mussels in Puglia are super good. The best I've ever had; I also tried my first fried mussel, which I had never even heard of. Reaaaaaally good.

Fish can grilled, with herbs and other delicious things inside.

Side note: This fish was grilled for my friend Eva, who spent her Puglia vacation with a terrible wisdom tooth-ache. She couldn't eat anything hard. On her second-to-last day, she had her tooth pulled by the friend of the father of our friends (yes, it's complicated, but the important thing to know is that our friends' father makes fake teeth for a living).
From then on, she was fine.

Fish can also be fried. In this case, it's sailing off the plate. Hence Francesca's un-photogenic expression.


You can eat sea urchins, too. But first you have to clean out all the sand and seawater inside them. The little ridges of orange are what you can eat; possibly eggs? I'm not sure what it is. The strangest thing is that the sea urchins are still alive while you cut them open and wash them out; all those sharp little spikes are moving around. It can be a bit unnerving.


When not stuffing yourself, it is worthwhile to go to antique markets and try on old-fashioned ladies' underwear.

It'll definitely fit you after all the eating.

The Most Beautiful Sea in the World

I just got back from my trip to Puglia, and I fell completely in love with the place. The hospitality, the food, the landscape. Everything. And especially the beaches. Puglia is the heel of the boot, and the southernmost part, where I was, is really shaped like a heel - a spike heel. So depending on which side of the heel you're on, you face the Adriatic Sea or the Ionian Sea, and you can drive between the two in a matter of hours.

The water is so beautiful - in every place I went to - that it's like a swimming pool. But better. Anyway, this post is dedicated to the sea in Puglia.

This is the water at Castro, near the southern tip. We went to visit the lovely Serena who took us on a boat tour with her father - the sea wolf - and stuffed us with food. This was my favorite seaside spot from the whole trip. The water is incredibly clear and blue. Grazieeeeeeee Serena!


At the Baia dei Turchi, in the Limini area. The presence of the man in a Speedo is accidental, but a good illustration of the Italian beach scene.


At Otranto. This is the water in the port of a small city. It's definitely not the port of Boston, that's for sure.


This is the beach right outside my roommate Francesca's family beach house. You opened the door, and you saw this.


The same water, with me in it.


I want to turn around and go back!

Train Down the Coast

Bologna is so empty right now that the streets seem haunted. And it's getting gradually more difficult to buy stuff - something, anything - because all the stores are closing. Not just the stores: the hospitals, public offices, university, you name it. Whether you have a hernia or a broken kitchen sink, the message is the same: wait until September. All of this means one thing: it's time to go on vacation . . . in another place!

Tomorrow I'm heading to Lecce (that's the heel of the boot for the geographically inclined). I will stay with various wonderfully hospitable friends. Oddly, my most hospitable friends all come from the same city. This is a clear indication that they are worth visiting, simultaneously.

The plan is basic: beach and food. Can't wait.

Summer Coma

I have been officially unemployed for a little more than a week. This is the first time that I've spent a week in Bologna without working in more than 14 months - all of my vacation since then has been spent in Cambridge or (even cooler) Korea.

So it's been nice to see Bologna during the day, on weekdays. To actually be able to go through the day without worrying about having time to anything not related to work - grocery shopping, ironing, cleaning. All the boring stuff. But I've also been able to see more of the people I care about, and I've eaten good gelato. I registered for a library card and as dorky as it is, I'm extremely excited to start taking out books. Even better, tonight I went to dinner in the hills outside Bologna to eat a meal that's already been immortalized more than once on this blog - basically, bread and meat and cheese. But it's so good.



The restaurant is in an incredibly beautiful place, which looks like this.



Or more specifically, like this.



It's really hot here, but I have lots of sunscreen - brought from the US, where SPF 20 isn't the highest level of protection and doesn't cost 30 euros a bottle - and tap water runs freely. I don't regret the decision I made to leave my job, at all, even though I really don't enjoy the uncertainty of not knowing what comes next. I do miss my coworkers, but that probably won't change, because they're wonderful. I'll just have to get used to it.



Bologna is emptying out. Almost everyone I know is leaving for vacation next weekend. And I might be going too! We'll see. Plans are in the works for a trip to southern Italy. Hopefully I'll be able to re-imprint my brain with something other than memories from my trip south during June, which was less than ideal (to put it mildly).

It feels like it's really time to relax and I'm excited. My anxious brain needs to calm down for a bit, even if I have to force it. This is what summer should look like.

I Do

Skipping ahead a few weeks in my list of things to blog about, I want to write about the wedding I went to this weekend! Guido, one of my beloved ex-coworkers, got married on Saturday. Our entire office went, bosses included, and we had a good time - this was not a drunken celebration wedding, but a calm nice pretty wedding. Strangely, the live musicians also played Hava Nagilah - why on earth an Italian band would ever know this song, I have no idea. But one of the guests actually got onstage and sang along, and I felt a moment of Jewishness! (It helps that my choir is learning the song, so I actually know all the words.)



Anyway, the beautiful couple is pictured above, trying to avoid the rice that they were being pelted with. For my readers who actually want to know what her dress looked like - and it was an amazing dress - it's pictured below.



This wedding was an anomaly because the food was really good, the flowers remained perfect, the musicians had endless energy, and the newlyweds stayed pretty and fresh all night long. However, this is all very much in the style of Guido, so I believe it.



Pictured above is a collection of my male ex-coworkers. Is it any surprise that I have one of the vastest repertories of vulgar Italian language of anyone I know - including Italians? (And yes, I'm proud of it!)



This is me with Giovanna, who was my wholehearted supporter during all of the drama that took place at work over the past month. She fed me, reacted sympathetically yet wryly to my tears, lost sleep over my own problems and defended me with all her might. Pretty great, right?

Giovanna told me the bouquet-throwing story of her wedding. As a hard-core feminist with pink hair, Giovanna invited like-minded friends to her wedding. When it was time to toss the bouquet, she turned her back and blindly hurled the flowers, as tradition requires - only to turn around and find that all of her friends had fled the scene. The only woman remaining was her sister, who despite standing alone and having 100% bouquet winning potential, had let the flowers fall to the ground. No one received a guaranteed marriage that year.



That's me with Francesca, who was my partner in Marketing and Communications shenanigans. She titled this photo, "The Model and the Dwarf" - and yes, I do look way too tall. But really I just wanted to show you my awesome dress.



A general shot of the chaos that follows us around. But also, doesn't Guido look remarkably fresh and awake for a just-married man? There's an Italian tradition that I don't really understand, in which the groom has friends over for drinks while he gets ready to go to the church or town hall to get married. Anyway, Guido had 80 (!!) friends at his apartment, drinking, while he was getting dressed. Ten minutes before the ceremony was supposed to start, he still wasn't ready. But he managed to show up in fine form, regardless.

Here we are on take two - Sara, another ex coworker, looks quite inebriated. Already.



And of course, the dancing . . . which was interesting.

Thinking Time

It's funny how the past two summers have brought huge changes to my life even though I've been out of school (and therefore the summer should be a part of the year like any other).

Last summer I went home, went to Korea, and settled into my job. It was a whirlwind, but despite the confusion I felt as if I'd made the decision to make a go of my life in Italy.

This summer things are different. A year has passed in Bologna - I feel more confident with my Italian, I feel more rooted socially, I've become more attached to the city. And it looks like I'll also be leaving my job. So things have changed a lot.



I know that I want to stay here, at least for now. Strangely, my non-school life ha s only taken place in Bologna (I almost called it "my grown-up life", but that it is not!!). I'm probably more attached to things here than I would be if I'd stayed in the States, because being on my own has led me to invest more energy into everything I've done. And giving a lot, you receive a whole lot in return. I think that the most wrenching part of this change will be saying goodbye to my office and my coworkers. I was incredibly lucky to find a job among a group of young people who have been incredibly understanding and supportive. Our office has become my point of reference, and in its own way, my home away from home. I know how everyone drinks their coffee, what they eat for lunch, how they express their thoughts, how they dress. I know everyone's bathroom schedules! So it's not going to be easy to leave, and the next few weeks will probably be pretty sad for me because of it. But adjustments always happen, even if they happen slowly.



In the meantime, instead of having deep or heavy thoughts, I need to figure out what I'm going to do with my free time (other than look for work). I've had some thoughts of my own. Like, buy a bathing cap and actually try swimming for athletic purpose. Or visit some of the cities nearby that I've still never seen - Parma, Pesaro, Mantova. Or try cooking more often. In the end, there are lots of possibilities . . . Do you have any suggestions?