Now this weekend was a series of unexpected surprises, most of them happy and actually very humourous, and as always full of really dangerusly good sweet treats. Friday kicked it off, with a dissaproving grumble from the host sister, (who now is pleasant twelve percent of the time.. i am growing on her), i was swooped by davide and we were off the a little christmas gathering with the post seniors. He listens to what i think is called harcore ska, which is almost unbearable to hear but i didnt care because i was speeding along in a little warm fiat instead of on my clanky bike.
at the parent-vacated apartment, there were people from my class, as well as lolo and lala and sasa. cant make it up, and then davide turned into gesu, because we passed around his drivers license from last year and he had a very long, bushy mane that to me resembled diego montoya more then jesus, but there it was. and i am called casco by this ska jesus man, which means helmet, which is how they pronounce emmett. and lolo said dirty things to frederica in italian, and grody beer was swigged, and a large pannetone was consumed.
saturday was when we in lecce of foreign lands had to congregate in a greek church and supposedly sing christmas songs in our native tongues, but we werent having it and so i read the grinch, and then guess what there was a table full of .. PANETTONE. whos general shape is what my stomach resembles. a big lumpy belly. and here i met a woman who looked like my seventh grade science teacher mrs. fischer, except not totally cracked, and she was from san fraaansisco, and we had a long chat about everything which was a bit scary to unearth all then things that made the bay the bay, and then the pannettone didnt feel so good, but there were no really strong heartsting pulls, which is another sweet sign that emmett is on the road to a skin of gator hide.
sunday i conducted a pancake breakfast at the pisano home, and all the americans, germans, kiwis norweigans and even italians enjoyed the magic of banana pancakes with real maple syyyrup and it was all radiating with cheer and the thousand lights on the christmas tree, which is also decked with red srystals, icy looking crystals, and a whole host of regal silver ornamentos which made me miss our "country" style tree at home, as mary would say.
and then sunday we the lecce stranieri were visited by the homeschooled, very perky and a bit
ohh man ive got to go to class, so sorry i must end this because there is a good story coming up, which explains the title of the post, but there it issss
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Dopo un pò
Well well
it has been a long lòong time since i wrote anything in this blog. I thought at first that it was a good thing, because it meant i was busy and too preoccupied to care about it, but now i think its a good thing to do, to write and remember and ponder the things that go on around here.
and so much to do! its christmas time, officially, which for me is like half the schoolyear, even though its not, but it is fantastic anyway. three whole months man! ive got a preresolution to regard the course of my travel in a positive, optomistic way, which i will not stick to but here goes nothing anyway.
i cant even remember where i left off, but there wasnt anything that i was exploding to write about. the past month and some have been progressions on what id already been working towards: per essempio the language is getting better, i can now understand probably 70 percent of a slow conversation, but the speaking is still sounding like sludgy chum coming from my mumbly, lazy american oral cavity.
i am on the whole feeling good most of the time, though the weather is bloddy terrible. all rain and greyness, with a cold dark wind. mary and i resolved to eat less then the usual two pounds of daily pasta, which is customary, and to munch more rabbit food. with the coming christmas feating, however, this may need to take a sidestep. christmas is a whirlwind of delight over here, filled with deliciousness, and i want to get the full monty out of it.
ive got this strange social situation going on, which is sort of frustrating but ultimately working out quite well. the mahority of the time on the weekends (and sometimes during the week) i hang out with andreas and our friends from the other school, who dont do too much but are on the whole pretty fun to have a party with. But on the typical weekend night they dont do anything really, just walk around and eat something which isnot that fun. ive experienced that part of the youthly culture and i am ready for more. so andreas and i, being fellow stranieri, thus share a synch in our mentailities that makes us feel like doing similar things and having similar experiences, though we couldnt come from more diverse places. ( we lives on baisically the top of a freakin norweigan mountain and sluggs a lot of vod and shoots things). but we all evolve together, and so we go.
and what what! now that i do english class with the relative seniors of the school, who know decent english and are by far my favorite people, invited me out to get some kicks and drove me in their car, which was the first time i have not had to stamp around with damp feet on a sunday night. we have so much to give each other, and why do i feel so much more at home with people two years older then me? oh, right, i know the answer already.
i do not feel too homesick anymore, or as much like a leeching vagabond american downer, and it has hit me that the year is going to go by like im riding on a zipline over a pool, and just when summer hits and ive gotten into full swing- WHAM ill hit that little stopper on the line and then splash into the cold pool of the reintegration process.
so much cheer is on the way, the chistmas lights are on all over the city, the windows are cloudy, the belly glows with pannetone, the lifesize cresh is almost done down in the ampitheater, and i was just so looking forward to spending it with a certain halfway spanish ex-vegan, the greatest one in the world, but it looks to me like that is going to be catzo blocked as WELL. one can dream though. id be extremely curoius as to the getting on in a different part of europa.
and after ths weekend, where the family will drive to rome, ill ahve a better idea of the many cultures of provincial italy! rome is extremely large and noisy, and i am going to take bigtime tourist photos of the colosseum. get ready.
it has been a long lòong time since i wrote anything in this blog. I thought at first that it was a good thing, because it meant i was busy and too preoccupied to care about it, but now i think its a good thing to do, to write and remember and ponder the things that go on around here.
and so much to do! its christmas time, officially, which for me is like half the schoolyear, even though its not, but it is fantastic anyway. three whole months man! ive got a preresolution to regard the course of my travel in a positive, optomistic way, which i will not stick to but here goes nothing anyway.
i cant even remember where i left off, but there wasnt anything that i was exploding to write about. the past month and some have been progressions on what id already been working towards: per essempio the language is getting better, i can now understand probably 70 percent of a slow conversation, but the speaking is still sounding like sludgy chum coming from my mumbly, lazy american oral cavity.
i am on the whole feeling good most of the time, though the weather is bloddy terrible. all rain and greyness, with a cold dark wind. mary and i resolved to eat less then the usual two pounds of daily pasta, which is customary, and to munch more rabbit food. with the coming christmas feating, however, this may need to take a sidestep. christmas is a whirlwind of delight over here, filled with deliciousness, and i want to get the full monty out of it.
ive got this strange social situation going on, which is sort of frustrating but ultimately working out quite well. the mahority of the time on the weekends (and sometimes during the week) i hang out with andreas and our friends from the other school, who dont do too much but are on the whole pretty fun to have a party with. But on the typical weekend night they dont do anything really, just walk around and eat something which isnot that fun. ive experienced that part of the youthly culture and i am ready for more. so andreas and i, being fellow stranieri, thus share a synch in our mentailities that makes us feel like doing similar things and having similar experiences, though we couldnt come from more diverse places. ( we lives on baisically the top of a freakin norweigan mountain and sluggs a lot of vod and shoots things). but we all evolve together, and so we go.
and what what! now that i do english class with the relative seniors of the school, who know decent english and are by far my favorite people, invited me out to get some kicks and drove me in their car, which was the first time i have not had to stamp around with damp feet on a sunday night. we have so much to give each other, and why do i feel so much more at home with people two years older then me? oh, right, i know the answer already.
i do not feel too homesick anymore, or as much like a leeching vagabond american downer, and it has hit me that the year is going to go by like im riding on a zipline over a pool, and just when summer hits and ive gotten into full swing- WHAM ill hit that little stopper on the line and then splash into the cold pool of the reintegration process.
so much cheer is on the way, the chistmas lights are on all over the city, the windows are cloudy, the belly glows with pannetone, the lifesize cresh is almost done down in the ampitheater, and i was just so looking forward to spending it with a certain halfway spanish ex-vegan, the greatest one in the world, but it looks to me like that is going to be catzo blocked as WELL. one can dream though. id be extremely curoius as to the getting on in a different part of europa.
and after ths weekend, where the family will drive to rome, ill ahve a better idea of the many cultures of provincial italy! rome is extremely large and noisy, and i am going to take bigtime tourist photos of the colosseum. get ready.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Sherry and Giggles
Early this week the first genuinely funny thing Giammarco has done occured. I was sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea (twinings... cant live without it in California, and the riles havent changed), reading Cannery Row. Giammarco is in his study, reading his italian textbook aloud, like he always does, to help him memorize things. All else is quiet. He definitley did not know i was in earshot, because some sudden surge of joy caused him to burst out from dreary italian history to a highpitched, singsong keening. Wavering between native american tribal chants and Bollywood head bobble music, i heard him make this noise for about five minutes, and i began to worry, for his voicebox was sure to implode! I sat in stunned shock, which gave way to hapless mirth. It was quite a laugh... marking the first time in a month (gasp.. a month) that i have been relaxed enough to find a choice moment such as this as funny as it was. He and the fox from Milo and Otis should make a band.
i may not be able to do Anything in design class, but i found out that i have other artistic "skills" that are unknown in italy. during the latin test i doodled away to the sound of "breathe" in my ipoded ears. doodles along the lines of what we did like all last year, Avery... no reason or meaning, just random patterns and images and whatever else randomness we thought of. People saw it and just could not get over it! it was passed around to probably the entire class, too cooing of "che beeeello" ... it made no sense why they thought some doodles were the beez kneez when they were designing cathedrals, but a tip of the hat to Maverick for getting me into that.
I encountered my first real anti-american joke that day as well. The froglike science teacher was i guess thinking of how much he was hungry and how much he disliked americans, so he put the two together and said to me (translated) " goin home for some lunch at mcdonalds" with that toady sneer. Offensive YES. he will get nothing but the stinkeye from me.
i may not be able to do Anything in design class, but i found out that i have other artistic "skills" that are unknown in italy. during the latin test i doodled away to the sound of "breathe" in my ipoded ears. doodles along the lines of what we did like all last year, Avery... no reason or meaning, just random patterns and images and whatever else randomness we thought of. People saw it and just could not get over it! it was passed around to probably the entire class, too cooing of "che beeeello" ... it made no sense why they thought some doodles were the beez kneez when they were designing cathedrals, but a tip of the hat to Maverick for getting me into that.
I encountered my first real anti-american joke that day as well. The froglike science teacher was i guess thinking of how much he was hungry and how much he disliked americans, so he put the two together and said to me (translated) " goin home for some lunch at mcdonalds" with that toady sneer. Offensive YES. he will get nothing but the stinkeye from me.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Things that are Srange and Exciting
Things are going better for me, as in the children have become accustomed a bit more to my presence, much like when you have to stand in the water for a long time before the fish trust you enough to start swimming again. Giammarco asked if i would like to go to his friends party on monday (uh... monday) and of course i will go. Ludovica poked her little head in my door last night to say "night" which was very cute. And some specific things of note:
early this week i was wandering around piazza mazzini with mary while giammarco tried on shoes( the most ridiculous, flashy, italian foot bombs i have ever witnessed) and mary noticed a gigantic designer handbag in the window of one of those stores for the most expensive clothes imaginable.. the kind i would be shunned out of. Of course we stroll in there, and of course mary knows all the employees by firstname basis. She babbles to the gay, gay (well maybe not, in italy you never know) manager, while i stand awkwardly thinking about why i wore my disgusting converse and Hottub teeshirt today. So Mary goes upstairs to try on some Fendi and Chanel or something, and this dude with a fauxhawk comes up and idicates i should try things on. i attempt to dissuade this, "io sono studente, non posso comprare" but he will not be denied. He starts pulling things off the shelves, and thrusts a pile of 500€ jeans into my arms. Next thing you know, im walkin around this store in Dolce and Gabbana. i cant lie, i drooled a little. Just to humor myself i showed mary, and what do you know shes like "how much" in italian, like it was from mervyns or something. i would have died inside if we bought them, but she hinted that christmas we would come back! Aah!
School has been so weird. ive been just sitting there through most of the classes while the teachers drone on with their lessons about benitellis architectural style or something. My mind wanders to places i didnt think possible.. my italian teacher has these strange lips that protrude funny, so when she speaks rapid italian it makes her sound trill and othreworldy. when i turn off my internal translator, i imagin she is an alien creature from "attack of the clones" and is speaking in a mandrill-like space alien language. Another thing i noticed is that all of my teachers resemble in their appearence and body language some kind of jungle animal. my religion teacher looks like a howler monkey, and i giggle when he hoots at the class and bangs his arms on the desk for silence. my art teacher is like a rare and exotic preying mantis.
One fantastic thing that happened was that on thursday i went into a bar for some iced espresso. the waitress, a cute late twenty something, knew immediatly i was not from around here. i told her i was american, san fransisco blah blah. (fantastic thing number one- i order and converse in italian and everything makes sense!)..fantastic thing number two: then shes talking to me and even flirting a little and asks me how old i am, and when i say sixteen she blushes and winces, mumbling something like shes ten years older then me! i must appear a distinguished and engaging man of twenty something! Wolken told me everyone in high school going abroad should try to be mature and seem older.. this must prove i am on that path for sure. Good things.
early this week i was wandering around piazza mazzini with mary while giammarco tried on shoes( the most ridiculous, flashy, italian foot bombs i have ever witnessed) and mary noticed a gigantic designer handbag in the window of one of those stores for the most expensive clothes imaginable.. the kind i would be shunned out of. Of course we stroll in there, and of course mary knows all the employees by firstname basis. She babbles to the gay, gay (well maybe not, in italy you never know) manager, while i stand awkwardly thinking about why i wore my disgusting converse and Hottub teeshirt today. So Mary goes upstairs to try on some Fendi and Chanel or something, and this dude with a fauxhawk comes up and idicates i should try things on. i attempt to dissuade this, "io sono studente, non posso comprare" but he will not be denied. He starts pulling things off the shelves, and thrusts a pile of 500€ jeans into my arms. Next thing you know, im walkin around this store in Dolce and Gabbana. i cant lie, i drooled a little. Just to humor myself i showed mary, and what do you know shes like "how much" in italian, like it was from mervyns or something. i would have died inside if we bought them, but she hinted that christmas we would come back! Aah!
School has been so weird. ive been just sitting there through most of the classes while the teachers drone on with their lessons about benitellis architectural style or something. My mind wanders to places i didnt think possible.. my italian teacher has these strange lips that protrude funny, so when she speaks rapid italian it makes her sound trill and othreworldy. when i turn off my internal translator, i imagin she is an alien creature from "attack of the clones" and is speaking in a mandrill-like space alien language. Another thing i noticed is that all of my teachers resemble in their appearence and body language some kind of jungle animal. my religion teacher looks like a howler monkey, and i giggle when he hoots at the class and bangs his arms on the desk for silence. my art teacher is like a rare and exotic preying mantis.
One fantastic thing that happened was that on thursday i went into a bar for some iced espresso. the waitress, a cute late twenty something, knew immediatly i was not from around here. i told her i was american, san fransisco blah blah. (fantastic thing number one- i order and converse in italian and everything makes sense!)..fantastic thing number two: then shes talking to me and even flirting a little and asks me how old i am, and when i say sixteen she blushes and winces, mumbling something like shes ten years older then me! i must appear a distinguished and engaging man of twenty something! Wolken told me everyone in high school going abroad should try to be mature and seem older.. this must prove i am on that path for sure. Good things.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Thinking of Dean Moriarty
Seeing as i cant yet speak, ive been lost in thought for most of the week. After finishing On The Road, I can honestly say its been the finest and most relevant book ive read.. it is celebrated and honored for good reason. I respect more then ever that Avery lives where he once did, somewhere described maybe in The Dharma Bums, the next novel on my list to read. Reading Kerouac, i find so many parallels between my perception of life and relations to people with those of Sal Paradise (who reminds me so, so much of Dad; he lives where life takes him and doesnt worry about where hed end up. except of couse Dad is not a writer but an artist).
But ive been thinking so much about how life was with Sal and Dean. Those guys, they could meet anybody anywhere, from a gas station in the middle of nowhere to a jazz bar in Frisco (as they call it , heh.) and start up the most compelling conversations that would last hours and hours. Just pouring their souls to complete strangers. No need to be self concious or gaurded, one could say what their deepest feelings and revelations on the world and rat race. People would just listen and understand... People shared so much, all anyone wanted was to get their kicks and reach out.
I feel like no one can talk like that anymore. Im often frustrated by how many boundaries people around me put up, only talking of petty things, popular things, often with a fear of awkwardness and rejection. Its because many people do reject outsiders, so caught up in appearing higher and classier. If we could all stop giving a damn about the formalities, the standard uncomfort of meeting new people. Maybe its because im just not like most people and i cant seem to connect with just anyone to get a bit furthur then smalltalk. Only over the past year did i come to know a few people who could meet me halfway.. some of the best people ive known in my life. We talked and talked, giving and sharing experiences and my insane thoughts. An exception to the trend ive seen pretty frequently is at parties, when the people present are in a mental state that lets them be friendlier without regard for any impressions they might be making. (incidentally, Sal and Dean also love to hop from town to town, getting absurdly inebrieated). In this way alcohol and other intoxicants seem to be the easiest ways to incite socialization.
Now that i havent got anyone i know around me, and its completely up to me to engage myself with my classmates, I see now just how far my personality can take me in terms of getting people to like me. I always have to be on, trying as hard as i can to converse and make impressions. Between the eternal headache of italian school and functioning in this foreign country, i have yet to feel like doing any of the above. Im so damn tired all the time, i have no energy left for constant socializing... But by gad im going to. Lord knows when ill finally get the hang of it all and feel like myself again.
But ive been thinking so much about how life was with Sal and Dean. Those guys, they could meet anybody anywhere, from a gas station in the middle of nowhere to a jazz bar in Frisco (as they call it , heh.) and start up the most compelling conversations that would last hours and hours. Just pouring their souls to complete strangers. No need to be self concious or gaurded, one could say what their deepest feelings and revelations on the world and rat race. People would just listen and understand... People shared so much, all anyone wanted was to get their kicks and reach out.
I feel like no one can talk like that anymore. Im often frustrated by how many boundaries people around me put up, only talking of petty things, popular things, often with a fear of awkwardness and rejection. Its because many people do reject outsiders, so caught up in appearing higher and classier. If we could all stop giving a damn about the formalities, the standard uncomfort of meeting new people. Maybe its because im just not like most people and i cant seem to connect with just anyone to get a bit furthur then smalltalk. Only over the past year did i come to know a few people who could meet me halfway.. some of the best people ive known in my life. We talked and talked, giving and sharing experiences and my insane thoughts. An exception to the trend ive seen pretty frequently is at parties, when the people present are in a mental state that lets them be friendlier without regard for any impressions they might be making. (incidentally, Sal and Dean also love to hop from town to town, getting absurdly inebrieated). In this way alcohol and other intoxicants seem to be the easiest ways to incite socialization.
Now that i havent got anyone i know around me, and its completely up to me to engage myself with my classmates, I see now just how far my personality can take me in terms of getting people to like me. I always have to be on, trying as hard as i can to converse and make impressions. Between the eternal headache of italian school and functioning in this foreign country, i have yet to feel like doing any of the above. Im so damn tired all the time, i have no energy left for constant socializing... But by gad im going to. Lord knows when ill finally get the hang of it all and feel like myself again.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Update
Well hello all. Finally Ive found an internet that actually works, its taken me only two weeks of biking around the cobbled streets of lecce to find it. My bum is sore. So where to begin..
My location: I arrived last week into warm, California-ish weather, walked into an apartment (in the "moderna" section of the city) which is twice the size of my house and bedecked with leaopard-print furniture, green marble pillars and red leather. My host parents, Mary the hotel baroness (she and her sisters have been personally constructing a resort outside of the city), and Daniele, the tall, mafioso type 100% italian padre. Ludovica, the younger sister, is only ten but is tall for her age and has the energy of four people. And the son, Giammarco. Oh my god is he one italian stallion. Slighter even then I, tanned to a pulp, with an earring, long hair in the back, constantly popped collar, capris, obsessed with soccer and soccer relaed activities. All of these people make up the most italian family i can possibly imagine. Needless to say, flour-white Emmett Raymond feels a bit out of place...
The frst dinner i proceed to make a fool of myself, nervous as i was, bless me. I flop spaghetti into my lap, nearly drop a plate of cream-filled delicious treats.. I was a wreck. Violet i say unto you it will be murder trying to stay awake for the first week. Every time we sat down anywhere my eyes flapped shut and my head drooped. Well what the hell else was i supposed to do? Join in the conversation? Not possible. They shout and skeeze words out to each other with the speed of a Twista rap, complete with the stereotypical hand gestures. And they DO so say "Mamma Mia!" Every chance they bloody get. But, through dinner parties and four-course luncheons, i sit up straight and look as contrite as possible, and nod my head and say "si, ho capito" when spoken to. I think im getting a bit better with the language though. I hope so, as schoooool starts tomorrow. This will be quite interesting, though some stress has been removed at the fact that im taking similar courses to those at Tam, and i think they said id get credits for them. Take THAT, Ms. Hunt, you cunt.
The Pisano family also has a strange set of rules- i think im allowed out pretty much to my liking, and i can watch tv or eat whatever delicious thing i want, but any light in the home can absolutly not be left on for three seconds after leaving a room. Thus every time i leave the bathroom momentarily to get my toothbrush from my room, Marco comes in and shuts off the bathroom light. Ive taken to flossing in the dark.
But every night after flossing with difficulty, i stay awake, writing letters and thinking of friends at home. The only person ive hung out with has been this other AFS girl in Lecce, seeing as Giomarco has no desire to do anything socially that doesnt revolve around his beloved soccer, and he apparently has no intrest in the beautiful italian girls. Mike, theres only one word i can use in a minor sense to describe him "bitchnigga". We would neve hang out with him. He is quite spoiled and sounds like hes whining every time he speaks, and i get the feeling he doesnt appreciate my presence in the house. This will, i hope, pass with time. But, in the mean time, i trot around lecce with Kayla and eat gelato and look at incredible churches and enjoy talking in english. Kaylas host sister is far more the social italian teenager- one night i went out with them, and we met up with their friends in a park in the city and smoked cigarettes. Those kids are So entertaining... they jump around and make out with each other and yell obscene things. On hearing my californian origins, they made references to "doing the joints" and "da ganja." I think some of the dudes go to my school, so i hope ill get to hang with them instead of watching soccer talk shows in italian with Giamarco. Balls on THat shit. And, better still, theres rumor of a disco this weekend! Ill write about that afterwards also.
So, i survived the first week. Ill not say it was easy, but its all falling into place as they said it would, and at this point ive no idea how the year is going to turn out. But i miss all of you to death and ill try to write at least every week. Send me letters because ive been rereading the ones i have over and over and it makes me very very very happy.
My location: I arrived last week into warm, California-ish weather, walked into an apartment (in the "moderna" section of the city) which is twice the size of my house and bedecked with leaopard-print furniture, green marble pillars and red leather. My host parents, Mary the hotel baroness (she and her sisters have been personally constructing a resort outside of the city), and Daniele, the tall, mafioso type 100% italian padre. Ludovica, the younger sister, is only ten but is tall for her age and has the energy of four people. And the son, Giammarco. Oh my god is he one italian stallion. Slighter even then I, tanned to a pulp, with an earring, long hair in the back, constantly popped collar, capris, obsessed with soccer and soccer relaed activities. All of these people make up the most italian family i can possibly imagine. Needless to say, flour-white Emmett Raymond feels a bit out of place...
The frst dinner i proceed to make a fool of myself, nervous as i was, bless me. I flop spaghetti into my lap, nearly drop a plate of cream-filled delicious treats.. I was a wreck. Violet i say unto you it will be murder trying to stay awake for the first week. Every time we sat down anywhere my eyes flapped shut and my head drooped. Well what the hell else was i supposed to do? Join in the conversation? Not possible. They shout and skeeze words out to each other with the speed of a Twista rap, complete with the stereotypical hand gestures. And they DO so say "Mamma Mia!" Every chance they bloody get. But, through dinner parties and four-course luncheons, i sit up straight and look as contrite as possible, and nod my head and say "si, ho capito" when spoken to. I think im getting a bit better with the language though. I hope so, as schoooool starts tomorrow. This will be quite interesting, though some stress has been removed at the fact that im taking similar courses to those at Tam, and i think they said id get credits for them. Take THAT, Ms. Hunt, you cunt.
The Pisano family also has a strange set of rules- i think im allowed out pretty much to my liking, and i can watch tv or eat whatever delicious thing i want, but any light in the home can absolutly not be left on for three seconds after leaving a room. Thus every time i leave the bathroom momentarily to get my toothbrush from my room, Marco comes in and shuts off the bathroom light. Ive taken to flossing in the dark.
But every night after flossing with difficulty, i stay awake, writing letters and thinking of friends at home. The only person ive hung out with has been this other AFS girl in Lecce, seeing as Giomarco has no desire to do anything socially that doesnt revolve around his beloved soccer, and he apparently has no intrest in the beautiful italian girls. Mike, theres only one word i can use in a minor sense to describe him "bitchnigga". We would neve hang out with him. He is quite spoiled and sounds like hes whining every time he speaks, and i get the feeling he doesnt appreciate my presence in the house. This will, i hope, pass with time. But, in the mean time, i trot around lecce with Kayla and eat gelato and look at incredible churches and enjoy talking in english. Kaylas host sister is far more the social italian teenager- one night i went out with them, and we met up with their friends in a park in the city and smoked cigarettes. Those kids are So entertaining... they jump around and make out with each other and yell obscene things. On hearing my californian origins, they made references to "doing the joints" and "da ganja." I think some of the dudes go to my school, so i hope ill get to hang with them instead of watching soccer talk shows in italian with Giamarco. Balls on THat shit. And, better still, theres rumor of a disco this weekend! Ill write about that afterwards also.
So, i survived the first week. Ill not say it was easy, but its all falling into place as they said it would, and at this point ive no idea how the year is going to turn out. But i miss all of you to death and ill try to write at least every week. Send me letters because ive been rereading the ones i have over and over and it makes me very very very happy.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Last Word
I'm going to have the last dinner i'll have in America for the next nine months in a few hours. So far i'm not doin so well in the nerves department... you could say i'm being a total woman about it all. Hopefully this means that by the time i even get to Europe all my feelings will have drained out and i'll leave all my self doubting and attatched feelings behind me. Not that i'm going to forget all the people who just visited me and their spoken and unspoken encouragements. They'll be there the whole time. Nothing like terrifyingly hard farewells to remind a guy just how appreciated he is. Today took the life out of me. Now that the bottle of emotional champagne has popped, its foam gushing out all i felt about the last three years, i feel very, very alive.
Someone i just talked to on the phone reminded me about the other 50% of this gigantic mindfuck journey: it's fucking awsome and i'm going on a crazy adventure to redefine my life.
I'll be quite a changed man by the time i get to see all of you again. Read my letters and know that in a very real way you prepared me for this, my inspiration came from you.
See you soon.
Someone i just talked to on the phone reminded me about the other 50% of this gigantic mindfuck journey: it's fucking awsome and i'm going on a crazy adventure to redefine my life.
I'll be quite a changed man by the time i get to see all of you again. Read my letters and know that in a very real way you prepared me for this, my inspiration came from you.
See you soon.
Friday, July 25, 2008
The Woiks
Now then, i have at long last found out with whom and where i am going to be livin! Lecce is the place, and from what i've heard, its hhaat and conspicuous and mafia-oriented. Meaning that i can get my hopes up for some skin pigmentation, and that i should look into guns to protect myself. Or better still i should take up running again, for who knows what slick, maroon wearing Luigi i will piss off with my typical american dispicability. In the high likelihood i get jumped by a gang of southern ruffians i can bet my ass i'll have to sprint outta the ghetto to safe, tourist infected areas. On another totally positive note, it appears to me that my family knows not even a speck of english (what the fuck, don't they have to learn that shit in like third grade!?) and as such i'm gearing up for a long, long year of confusion in the homestead. They will not know what the hell I'm trying to say to them and vice versa, so when i come back im more likely going to be really good at hand signals then italian. But from what i got out of the letter they sent, they sound like huggy, good-natured people. my new parents seem to have more then one home, and i think to myself "Fuck Yeah!"
on that note i resolve not to write another word until i'm sitting in one of those homes, a bit more then two months from now...
A presto!
on that note i resolve not to write another word until i'm sitting in one of those homes, a bit more then two months from now...
A presto!
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
I am actually doing this
Today I made a blog, it is a good idea for staying connected when i'm away. This way you can hear all about what you're missing and what exquisite things are happening with my quasi new life. I don't know where i'm even going, but the mountain of information being thrown at me about italian culture is telling me that it doesn't matter, italy is not america. Italy is cuh-lassy as fuck and i'm not allowed to say 'nigga' there. This blog here is also probably the predecessor to my 'friend blog' that Elissa devised, not to be confused with my 'general blog' for people who only need the censored version of my year. This is the one where the magic happens... here you can hear about le ragazze italiani, li festi, and of course your favorite male now-european counterpart, emmett.
The name will be changed!
so i'll let you know
The name will be changed!
so i'll let you know
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