Roma VS Los Angeles

Things I’m going to miss about Rome

Bidets

It appears this is the French word for pony because you ride the thing like it takes you places. One never stops learning. History tells us that furniture makers in the late 17th century introduced it in France for their Royals’ rooms. Because we all know they are clean people over there.

This would probably trick you into thinking they are big on bidets in baguette land nowadays. Think again! Looks like this is the one thing we savvy borrowed from our arch nemesis. We are smart what can I say. A bathroom without a bidet is not on anybody’s radar where I come from. We’re just not built that way.

Now this is a definition taken from Wikipedia, best ever, cracks me up!

Bidets are primarily used to wash and clean the genitalia, perineum, inner buttocks, and anus.

Very meticulous, thank you.

Some other little facts I didn’t know and have learn today:

Fact # 1 - Bidets may also be used to clean any other part of the body; they are very convenient for cleaning shaven heads, for example.

Who knew! I’d love for someone to explain me why that is better than a regular shower or sink. Leg exercise?

Fact # 2 - Bidets once served as a practical way for couples to prepare themselves before sex.

Any expert?

The thing I don’t get about countries that don’t use them is why the heck should one take a whole shower or, and I don’t want to think about it, keep the dirt where it is, when somebody actually gave them a way to get the best of both worlds? Just beyond me.

So here I am picturing myself trying the weirdest stuff to clean my genitalia and anus, thanks again Wikipedia, next to the sink with the aid of maybe a sponge, dripping water all over the floor. Very convenient.

Mozzarella e prosciutto

Hot summer days’ quick lunches, year round munchies. Fine sliced raw ham, prosciutto, and milk dripping buffalo mozzarella are my saviors. I usually wrap the prosciutto around a small mozzarella ball and OMG. I may be able to find it in So Cal but what will I have to sell in order to buy them? We shall see… Some things I can certainly deprive myself of for a bite of heaven!

Blinds

When I was young before going to bed I used to cover up every single light in my room with a piece of cloth. Digital clocks, TVs, chargers, you name it. Then I lived in England. Come dawn I had no escape, that sneaky light was all over the place. British boot camp built my character and I can proudly say that I no longer go coocoo on every electrical device in sight. But I still love my Italian traditional blind, it astounds me how smart we are. As above, why not use it if it’s there. US sunrise I fear you not, but I hope I get thick curtains in my house.

My room

I designed my room from scratch in 2005. I sat down and I drew it all with colored pencils. I was so dedicated to it. I got it so right after 6 years I would change nothing. My room is an open book to read me, it is me if I were furniture, that’s why we get along so well. I’m going to miss you room!

Cappuccino e cornetto

I get it I’m a hunger whore. I just love food what can I say! Have you ever tasted a hot cappuccino with powder chocolate all over it and a flaming cornetto with tender insides melting in your mouth first thing in the morning? If you have, you understand me. If you haven’t, sorry dude.

Things I’m looking forward to in L.A.

Thrift

Old and skanky is the new sexy. From clothes to furniture my DIY geekness is in serious need of an outlet and believe me when I say choice in Italy is limited. The closest thing to a supply store doesn’t even carry magnets, how lame is that? Also we don’t have yards, do your math. No yard sales, no used stuff, no nothing. Pardon me what? Oh flea markets, yes we have those. Go take a look at one of them, I’ll pay you if you find anything interesting!

My own kitchen

Last time I lived by myself in British boot camp the sweetest thing that happened to me was having my own kitchen, without my mom. Now cooking is my outlet. Some people create stories, I create dishes. This woman who gave me life also likes to take it away a little piece at a time with her obsessive compulsive need to clean and never let go of the stove, so I have no outlet, and I die. She cooks good for me don’t get me wrong but sometimes I just need to get my hands dirty and she just, won’t, let me. Listen to this, one time at dinner I was pouring some stuff from a pan. When I was done (30 seconds later) I went searching for the lid on the table where I left it (30 seconds before) and it wasn’t there. It was in my mom’s hands, at the sink, being washed. And her dinner was not even finished. You understand my excitement.

Eggo’s chocolate chip waffles

The sharpest memory of my 2001 summer in Omaha, Nebraska. Great times huh?!

Disneyland

You think I’m weird and giddy? You’ve never seen me inside the happiest place on earth that’s all I have to say…

Pancakes

Or probably I should say french toasts, cause I don’t know if they make funnel cakes down in So Cal. Anything American, sweet but not too much that can substitute a cornetto and that I never get to eat at home will make my sour times less bitter. I’ll stack up.

Leaving on a jet plane

All is well in this neck of the wood, except I've been haunted by atrocious headaches for more than a week now... I just woke up from a THREE HOUR NAP in the middle of the afternoon, comatose, confused. Wasted a lot of precious time that could have easily been put to better use with say, packing for departing in a snap, and I still feel sick. So irritating! I thought the reason behind the sickness was Jacob period stuff, but period's over now, so maybe it’s just my body reacting to the pressure of, as above, departing in a snap. Anyway, it sucks!!

I wrote this a few days back, meaning to wrap a post and blog about the last week in my hometown, a funky town. But like Osama this purpose went kaboom. I packed for four days for Christ’s sake. They had to feed me vitamins to keep me going. Some of my neighbors called in a drug test. But like a good old fairy tale peace is restored and the world makes sense again. My THREE BAGS are ready to soar and I leave tomorrow… Hold on, seriously? Faint.

Yes, this is my last day in Rome, and it’s 6pm as I write, so there’s really not much left to it. I’ve said my goodbyes to friends, with an opulent dinner last Monday to start the celebrations and a laid back BBQ yesterday to finally hug it out. I’ve dined with family. I’ve walked across the city center by myself listening to sad songs and saying my silent goodbyes while staring at the Coliseum till I had to go away to avoid crying. I filed and painted my nails today, because that’s key to airport security right? Wrote my last review this morning and spent some idle time stalking people on facebook since it propitiates a good flight. Checked in online and bought a new pair of sneakers to sweep my way through customs. All that’s left is taking a shower in a little bit. Kind of upset this day wasn’t full of amazements but I still had what I had hoped for, a quiet time home with mom and dad, a nice Italian meal, a few laughs, lots of hugs and the charge I need to hop on that plane. The deal is sealed. I’m coming.

A long long time ago in a country far far away… (Episode 2)

It is a dark time for the Rebellion. Although high school is almost over, further uncontrollable desires for freedom have driven the Rebel forces from their hidden base and pursued them across the Ocean.

So I find myself in Omaha. Au-paring for a family who has a lovely 3 year old, and an extremely bitchy 15 year old. It is the 4^th of July when I set foot in the States, so it all starts with fireworks! When the pyrotechnics end though I am left by myself a lot of the times, but always find something to do. I would go out riding a bike and snap pics of the neighboring streets. Wide light concrete block rivers through the city, green yards and wood paneled houses had populated my movie fueled imagination for ever and I was finally out there surfing through them. I actually couldn’t have asked for more.

The occasional trip to Target would make my day. Huge department stores had a thing for me, and I returned it. My go to aisle would be the fridges’. Chocolate chip waffles were a must! Everyday!! Yeah that wasn’t my slimmest phase. Also attributable to frequent take away and Applebees.

One of the happiest moments was when I discovered people actually drank milk from the carton. See I’m not a milk person, so I skipped on that tradition. But I was happy to take on a new one: the slip and slide. Good times!

Then finally August came and school started. The 15 year old was going to be a freshman at an all girls’ school. I asked if I could go with. Wish granted. I got my own schedule and attended for two days. I didn’t have time to step my foot into the premises and I was already popular. That was the easiest time I got it. The 15 year old didn’t take it well at all so that is about the time when things really went apeshit. The other girls at school were instead all over me, and so I was in. In the cool kids circle that is.

Homecoming was my first official attendance, where we got to mingle with our nearby all boys’ school. Then it was all football matches, Saturday afternoons’ concerts, Sunday fairs, night outs, basement meet ups and mostly house parties. Everything also went all American Pie on me.

This one time I was at a house party and we were all drinking in the yard from big red and blue cups. I can’t even remember what was inside them. Probably Diet Coke. Well right at that moment two police cars come rushing from around the corners, sirens  shrieking. I saw like 50 cups flying in the air like graduation hats decorating the sky and then people were running aimlessly. Someone grabs me and yells to be quick. It truly felt like a movie. I didn’t want it to end. Then this car drives by and someone opens the back door and motions to get in. We were suddenly 9 kids in there. And we drove away from law-enforcement!

These girls I was with during the police escape I’m still in contact with to this day. It’s been 10 years! In hindsight that is definitely what struck me most about experiencing an American community. That it actually is a community. This concept seldom exists in Italy. Each of us thinks about himself and that’s it. Me included. Extreme Makeover Home Edition could never work here if you know what I’m saying. Flocks of people gathering to help unfortunate families. Kids giving up their savings to help. I have seen that happen on that show. Maybe it’s scripted, they fooled me and they gave the kid his money back. But that’s not how I see it. That show gets to me. I cry every single time I watch it. There must be something that goes through, something real. And that would be one of the reasons I want to go live in this country, because I want to be like that. Ty Pennington may be another reason.

Well anyhow, summer 2001 ends, I go back home and I get my drivers license in 1.5 months flat. That’s rare. Because you know, nobody puts Baby in a corner…


Go to Episode III

A long long time ago in a country far far away… (Episode I)

It is a period f civil war. Rebel children, striking from a hidden base, have learned to turn the TV on by themselves. It’s 1995, I hit puberty and discover the great world of teen shows. I watch them all and I start the infamous path that leads me to being a hopeless romantic. Also I’m fascinated with the backdrop of all these stories. I’m Italian, and half my family is from Naples. A country that offers you lockers in schools’ hallways to let you organize your things feels like an alien sorcery.

It may also be that I’m a child at heart and I recently discovered through the worst year of my life that that is who I am, and it doesn’t make me a lesser person or stupid or anything, and I have to accept it. A lot of people have tried to convince me that being a bit of a child is bad for you, and I believed them for a while. But you can change your outlook on life just for so long. I know now that you can learn and upgrade what you are but you can’t change it. I am, will remain and want to remain a free, optimistic, childish spirit, and I am now sure there is nothing wrong with that.

If the United States were a person they’d be my soulmate, because they are free and young and light hearted. I know I shouldn’t get the optimism in me take over and that bad shit happens, I watch the news for crying out loud, but in the midst of the filth that fills the world everywhere, you can’t choose who you love. US of A chose me.

Years go by and I get to learn more and more about the country. I should specify I am not a politic person, I just don’t do it. I like culture, and traditions, I’m a humanist.

Press pause.

Back in 1995 my habit of watching TV shows grew in a habit of watching films. Stories, tales, take my mind away, they make me live things that I wouldn’t even imagine. Books, movies, any sort of storytelling is the very core of being human. Escaping, being inspired, learning. Everything and anything can be in a story. That’s just how powerful that is.

It was this one movie that started it all. Back to the future. I was never tired of learning new facts on how they made it.

Flash forward to some years later. I’m in high school, I was a good student, and then I spent the rest of my time on rented DVDs or on Coming Soon Television watching films’ making-ofs. I would shed a couple of tears sometimes. A perfectly engineered shot, a swift dolly, balanced framing move me.

Graduation comes and I’m asked where I want to go to College. There really wasn’t any choice to be made. That’s when cinema met homework and it all became fucking good!

Here you have a young woman who just made the first real decision of her short life. And you remember how she was a humanist.

So she takes off and goes to live in Omaha, Nebraska for the summer…


Go to Episode II