An American (Party) in Italy

I'm newly re-addicted to Skittles. I bought a bag for my Italian friends and have since consumed the left0vers. But that's really not important.

Sunday, about 13 of my friends tramped up to my third-floor apartment for a festa americana! All in all it was very nice. The menu included:
-hamburgers and hotdogs, American style (as in, in-bun with lettuce, tomato, onion, ketchup, and mustard)
-potato chips
-potato salad
-mac n'cheese
-celery sticks with peanut butter
-celery sticks with cream cheese
-melon
-sausage (Italian)
-Starbursts
-Skittles
-american box cake (funfetti!)
-gelato
-crostata (Italian cake)
-Twizzlers
-Cocacola (regular, Zero, Sprite Zero)
-Fruit punch

Everyone ate well and at least pretended like they enjoyed the food. Michael Jackson and Johnny Cash played in the background, while Filippo's dad and his friend played in the foreground dressed in my belly-dancing accouterment. All the Italians tried the pull-n-peel Twizzlers, which was rather funny to watch:
There was also guitar playing, dancing, and general what-do-we-do-at-this-party awkwardness (during which many silly photos were taken. A few of my favorite:

<--- A picture of the spread and a handful of the party-guests.


---> Tata Ali and Filippo playing with cameras


<--- There was too much American fun going on! ...............
---> And a little Arab fun, too.









....................
<--- Tata Ali helped out a ton with the American party! ...............---> So did Dany, I wouldn't have had such wonderfully sliced oranges and tomatoes if not for him.

I'm Regressing

All this time I spend around a almost-4-year-old is rubbing off on me. Yesterday, we watched Mighty Morphing Power Rangers and I am re-hooked the show of my youth. It's not that my current self has any interest in this badly acted, simplistically scripted, 90's kids tv show... it's that my love for this show was so deep and true as a child, that even though the show has no merit other than bright costumes and 90's-acceptable racism, the love is still there. Oh, it's still there. I watched a clip-montage of Kimberly (the Pink Power Ranger) and Tommy (the Green-then White-then Red Power Ranger) and sighed wistfully. What high-school love could be more true and awkwardly unfulfilled?

Also, I have a new fixation: not sucking at Checkers. There should be a warning on the box: "This game is wretched, do not play it at risk of it eating your soul. Pregnant or nursing women should consult a doctor before play," etc. I sat down to an outwardly innocent game of checkers with Dany the other day, only to have my pride shoved forcefully down my throat. Since then, I've dedicated myself to improving my game with few results and a lot of swearing. I've even consulted online tips, but all they suggest is "don't suck." Like I said, I'm working on it. When did this game get so hard? What happened to the days of blissful Cracker Barrell checkers, when the huge, plastic peices were harmlessly exchanged by the fire?

...It's a stupid game.

My American party is tomorrow. I spent 75 Euros at the supermarket today, which means that I spent 5 Euros per person. Laurel claims that she doesn't want to hear about my struggle with checkers or my unadultered love for kids shows, but rather romantic European adventure. Well, I think throwing an American party in Italy is rather romantic and adventurous. I mean, it's not easy finding raisins in an Italian supermarket. And, I have to brave the pandhandlers outside. And I have to put up with Italian clerks wanting to practice their English on me. Furthermore, I don't think I've ever actually made a hamburger. And the idea of whipping up a batch of three or four boxes of Mac'n'cheese in one go? This girl has got a backbone!

How I yearned to be Kimberly when I was a kid.

I am planning an American-themed party. I should be very excited, but I am doing it more as a chore than anything else -- my friends have been so wonderful to me that I feel the need to ... well, throw them a party! I wish I had my stuff together, I would have thrown it in honor of my birth. Alas, the window of birthday party opportunity has passed. I'll just make a bunch of American box birthday cakes in my honor. Mmmm cake....

Pictures forthcoming.

I've been keeping busy. Filippo is out of nursery for the summer, so we spend all day together. It's pretty fun. We've been starting our days by going to Floyd and playing with whichever kids cross our paths. Then, we either color and "help" Nonno out in the garden, or we lounge by the pool all day. Love it. The weather is sufficiently scalding, and the pool is so wonderfully cool and clear and entertaining. Also, the summer naps are so very satisfying.

<-- Love this picture of the cool little dude. (Speaking of "cool," he's adopted this particular slang from Tata Lindsey, and continually asks me if things he's doing or seeing are cool. "Is this cool, Tata Lindsey? Is this so cool?") .

Other than watching Filippo, I keep myself busy planning parties and hanging out with my boyfriend. That's right, you heard me say it (well, no you didn't, but you saw the end result of me thinking it in my head and then instructing my fingers to type it out on the keyboard into the blog window): boyfriend. I have an Italian boyfriend. I'm pretty sure that makes me the coolest girl ever. Did I mention he's in a band? Well, that would be a lie really -- he IS the band. All mention of "Dany" (Danilo) henceforth refer to my very cool, very Italian "boyfriend."
.
<-- I don't think we look particularly stellar in this photo, but it's the only one I really have of him, so just use your imagination to picture us more attractive.

I'd like to take this time to mention that he doesn't speak very much English (though boy is he learning fast), and either that speaks very highly of my Italian language abilities or very low of Dany's and my inter-relationship communication. .

Trips planned in the near future:
Italian day trips, such as Venice, Florence, Milan, etc. with two of my Uno's girls who are coming to visit.
A veritable European tour with Laurel.
Something something with Seanic.
A long weekend in Ireland with Tata Alley.

Hopping Back on the Train

Well, the only way to get this blog back in action is to start writing in it again. I have about three half-written blogs about my Moroccan/Roman, Tuscan, and Greek adventures, but I'll get to them when I get to them.

I just got back from a wonderful trip to the U.S., complete with family, friends, food, baseball, birthdays, and boyfriends. Laurel was down the first weekend, so we spent Fourth of July together (oh, KFC chicken!). The next few days I spent with my Jess from Uno's, and every evening I was watching the Reds game with the family. Also, during this time, I did a huge amount of shopping: since Europe is so expensive, and the Dollar-Euro conversion rate is total crap, I bought everything I could possibly need in the next year, including but not limited to: shampoo, deoderant, makeup, facewash, mac'n'cheese, clothes, medicine, cake mix and peanut butter. [However, the peanut butter and cake mix need replenishing, so don't come to Italy to visit me without a little of both!] I also got a lot of necessary errands run, such as doctor's appointments.

On Wednesday, Sean came to visit and we enjoyed a couple hours together (if it's possible to enjoy a couple hours with Seanic. God, what a douchebag). Friday, my old roomies and I rocked out at Shannon's dad's fantastic house, swimming, hot-tubbing, playing cards, and chatting up a storm. Saturday, the Uno's crowd had a party to celebrate all of the out-of-towners being in town. (I was in from Italy, the past-general manager was in from India, and a server was visiting from Pittsburgh)...(who's to say which place is the coolest?). Sunday, Jamie and her man-friend drove in from Illinois and it was great getting to hang out with my sister and meet her quasi-boyfriend. We had a lot of fun having another birthday celebration (for moi), including another birthday cake (for moi), lots of ice cream and s'mores, and time with my Sama-pie (who is a friend of mine, not some sort of sugary confection...although she's delicious roasted over a fire and garnished with chocolate).

Unfortunately, not everything was confetti cake and cookies-and-cream ice cream. Life tends to catch you wherever you are living, but I guess that's how it goes.

Coming back the U.S. was a bit odd after 4 months abroad. First, I continually forgot that the people around me understood English perfectly. So, yeah, that could have gotten me in some trouble. Also, whenever someone spoke of their relationpship with another person, I was constantly hit with the thought, "wow, relationships must be so much easier when you speak each others' language." [However, we all know that couples don't tend to speak the same language anyway, so what's another language barrier or two?] Furthermore, I'm coming to see how Americans are different from Europeans: unsurpringly, Americans tend to dress more casually, but they also consistently have more open expressions on their faces. I can confidently peg an American in a crowd of Europeans and am sure that I, in turn, am quite peggable.

Going back to Italy was also strange: whereas my first trip from the U.S. to Italy was shrouded in mystery and a flurry of excitement, this time I knew exactly what awaited me and why I was going back. (Those reasons? you ask. Well, I have a fabulous job working for a fabulous family, I really enjoy learning the language and being able to hop away to another country for a few days, and I'm seeing a great guy with whom I have a lot of fun. Yup, Italy = totally returnable).

Now, the returning kind of sucked. It took me two layovers/three flights in economy class, an uncomfortable train ride, and over 24 hours of traveling without sleep to get me alla mia casa. I guess that still beat the outbound travels, when I was stuck at Charles DeGaul airport for a couple days on a standby ticket, wondering if there would ever be an extra seat on a flight to the U.S. (CDG is not a great overnight option, as their hard bucket seats all have armrests). With the help of a retired-Delta employee from Texas (ie, angel), I got home in one peice.

And now I'm back in Italy! Still a little jetlagged, though it probably has to do more with my inability to sleep in this heat rather than the time change. Oh Italy and your incredibly hot and humid summers, I love thee.