Roma

As I write this scattered tale about my trip to Rome, I'm listening to Bernstein's West Side Story. Just felt like it. I only played it (the symphonic suite) once but had a blast doing so.

Anyway, we took the overnight train on the way up the coast. (Seen above, the train on the boat. Yup, they separate the cars and load them on the ferry between Messina and the mainland....pretty cool.) A good idea in theory, a theory that excluded my being a sensitive and picky sleeper. So I didn't get very much sleep. And I don't particularly like travelling in the dark. I like to see everything. Maybe I'm a control freak.

So by the time we arrived we were exhausted. After dropping off our luggage at our B&B (cleanest accomodations I've ever inhabited... highly recommend it), we headed to the Brazilian embassy so my friend could do her business. We ended up being there for 4 hours. Chalk it up to the combination of Italians and Brazilians running things. She said it first. As I waited I even nodded off for a few minutes here and there despite somewhat sketchy company. By that time I didn't care.

The rest of the day was pretty much a bust as we were so tired. The next day we headed to the American embassy so I could drop off my paperwork. Night and day, the difference between the two embassies. I had an appointment so was let in promptly at 10 o'clock by the guard... not a minute sooner... and though I had to run around the building because of bad directions for a few minutes I finally got to speak face to face with an immigration officer who went through my paperwork, paper by paper. All in all, I think this made the whole trip worthwhile.

The rest of the day we tried to pack in as many sights as possible. What can I say? We saw a lot of the sights everyone has seen on TV and in books. Meh. Sure it's a city loaded with history but I can't say that I really felt the vibe. Just not my type of place I guess. So now I can say I saw these places in person. Yay me. Also, I'm allergic to Rome. I've never suffered so badly from itchy throat, nose, eyes and sneezing as I did those three days. I haven't even had an inkling of allergies in the past couple of years. I don't know what it was, but I was in agony the entire time.

Not that I discourage anyone from going. I'm sure a lot of people could get a lot out of being there. Maybe it's cause I live in Italy. Maybe if I came straight from North America having never lived abroad, I might be more amazed. But Paris amazed me, so there goes that theory. Amazed me but didn't surprise me. Neither did Rome. So far I haven't been surprised by any place. Except for maybe Sicily..... surprise! it's a second-world country!

That night we got together with a woman who studied piano at my university. She and her husband were very cool and our time with them was definitely a highlight. He is an Italian concert pianist and had some great stories about playing various gigs across Europe.

The next day we visited the Vatican. This time we took the train, a very crowded train. We didn't go in to the museum, but we did go in to St. Peter's Basilica and caught the beginning of a mass. That was pretty cool. I've always been interested in Catholic masses, being a non-Catholic. Growing up Protestant I always felt that my church lacked history and the sense of solemnity I enjoyed at mass.

I don't know if it's Rome in particular or the fact that I was with a woman and not my husband, but waiters and other random men were quite flirtatious. There was a waiter on the last night with whom I spoke French that was very interested in giving us his phone number and showing us Rome "le soir." Being very tired and skeptical of his intentions, we executed a "mission impossible" type return to our hotel in order to avoid further insisting.

Speaking of tired.... I'm still very tired. My body hasn't decided if I'm still suffering from allergies or I caught a bonified cold. So I am going to bed now. J gets home this week. I'm an excited flower.

Return to Middle Earth

I'm back.

12 of 12

11:32 AM - Yes, I slept in a lot. I blame the return of my voracious appetite for reading. I stayed up pretty late the previous night. So this is me in the bathroom doing my bathroom things. Note the glimpse of the new shower curtain.

11:51 AM- Time to make coffee!

12:09 PM- Obsessively checking facebook and my email to see if my honey has written.

13:13- A bit of vacuuming and clean-up.

14:25- Driving to the base. I discovered it's really hard to drive and snap photos at the same time. I don't think I'll be repeating that activity any time soon.

15:00- Waiting outside the gym for my friend Maira to arrive.

16:30- After a wine-tasting at the NEX I decided to buy this molto expensivo bottle of wine. The owner even signed it for me. It probably won't be opened for another hundred years. It will be mighty tasty when it does get opened though!

17:25- Maira putting together her pipe. It's a middle-eastern way of smoking flavored tobacco. I had never tried it before so she decided it was time I be enlightened. I assure you friends that it was only tobacco!

19:00- After some wine and a visit from some friends, it is time to savour J's paella recipe. It was a success as always!

21:00- Arrival at a party in Motta. These are the friends that dropped in earlier.

22:48- My friend Arvin looking all "Fresh Prince"-esque.

22:49 - Maira and I. Yes, I look like a freak. No need to point that out in the comments section.

There you have it, my first real 12 of 12. Maira and I are heading to Rome tomorrow night so I won't be posting for a week or so. In the meantime, happy birthday on Tuesday to my cousin Meghann. That is all.

Cash or Money Order Will Suffice

Today is Military Spouse Appreciation Day.... so appreciate me, or something.

Is it Doomsday Yet?

Before I begin this rant, I need to 'splain something first. I know that by comparison, my life as a military spouse is pretty damn cushy. J is not in the army, he is not a marine, he hasn't been pulled for IA, so I don't have to worry about him being sent to any "hot" zones any time soon. I don't have to deal with the 6-12 month deployments, sometimes more, not knowing exactly when he'll be back or how safe he really is. I understand that these spouses have it much worse off than I. Especially those with kids, especially those with lower ranked husbands (ie. lower pay) that have to try to eke out mortgage payments and school supplies out of a strained income. I know. But while I can sympathize, I can't feel that reality. I can only feel what I live.

What I know is that I am new to this game. I come from a place where no one is in the military, hardly anyone even knows anyone that is in the military and if they do (with the exception of the last 6 years of Afghanistan debacles involving Canadians) they're part of an organization that is not quite as active as the one I've married. So everything that happens is new and foreign and scary.

It seems that there is always something, something stressful that is hanging over our heads on a daily basis, related to J's job or to the fact that we're way across the atlantic from business that our lives still depend on. Fine, when J's here at least there are two of us to sort out what needs to be done, two of us to bounce back ideas on the best way to handle situations.

I mentioned the bad news in the mail? Well, every time he goes away, there's something that comes up, usually by mail. Something that sends this naive little prairie girl into a helpless tail spin. Helpless especially because as a foreign national, I am in a lot of ways, a second class citizen. A dependent second class citizen. Dependent on someone who is often in undisclosed locations. Undisclosed even to me. Today this news came by telephone. The attempt was made to use me as a liason... a liason to someone whose whereabouts I know nothing about. Talk about helpless.

It all turned out okay, I think, thanks to a bit of resourcefullness on my part and a bit of help from someone that didn't treat me like a freak. Therein lies the rub. I know me, I know that I won't rest until things are resolved, but my vanity is constantly at war... I don't want people to think of me as J's crazy little freakout Canadian wife. But I guess to get what I want, vanity has to take a back seat. Though I talked to a friend of mine in the military tonight and she said she would be on the "high end" of freakout were she to get the phone call I got. So I don't feel so bad.

I also need to learn new ways of coping. Of not treating everything as an apocalyptic catastrophe..... otherwise I'm headed for really bad health. And B wants good health. Good, calm, peaceful, love-filled, health.

Tuesday Tidbits

I am eating a popsicle (calm down you sucrophobes.... it's a real-fruit-no-sugar kind of deal) and finishing up the 18 tons of laundry J and I let pile up before his departure. Since he's not here to fold his clothes the "right" way (and you thought I had OCD) I am temporarily forced to fold them the "wrong" way so they don't stay in a heap in the laundry basket for 3 weeks. Go out to sea, laundry is folded by B!

So far things are going alright. I haven't checked the mail this week so haven't allowed for the opportunity for getting bad/stressful news. That will be Friday. The only thing that kind of licks is that we can't have much contact this time around. Hardly a day has gone by since we met that we haven't spoken, so these past few days have been a little strange. But maybe he's reading this.... hi J!

I joined a group on Facebook called "I am a string player... therefore I am awesome" and found some viola jokes I hadn't heard before. Yes, facebook, I'm on it. Interesting and terrible at the same time.

Anyway, here are some of those jokes to help get you through the day.... I'm pretty sure they're public domain.....mostly...

At a rehearsal, the conductor stops and shouts to the bass section: "You are out of tune. Check it, please!" The first bassist pulls all his strings, says, "Our tuning is correct: all the strings are equally tight." The first violist turns around and shouts, "You bloody idiot! It's not the tension. The pegs have to be parallel!"

Did you hear about the violist who played in tune? Neither did I.

What is the main reqirement at the \"International Viola Competition?\"
Hold the viola from memory.

How do you transcribe a violin piece for viola?
Divide the metronome marking by 2.

Why do you always bury a viola player three feet under?
Because deep down they are all very nice people.

How do you keep a violist from drowning?
Take your foot off his head

How do you get a dozen violists to play in tune?
Who the hell wants a dozen violists?

How does a violist\'s brain cell die?
Alone.

How do you call a violist with two brain cells?
Pregnant.

What do a SCUD missile and a viola player have in common?
They\'re both offensive and inaccurate.

What\'s the difference between a chain saw and a viola?
If you absolutely had to, you could use a chain saw in a string quartet.

What is the definition of a cluster chord? A viola section playing on the C string.

Why do violists get antsy when they see the Kama Sutra? All those positions!

If you\'re lost in the desert, what do you aim for? A good viola player, a bad viola player or an oasis? The bad viola player. The other two are only figments of your imagination.

What's the Deal With Cinco de Mayo?

It is a strange day. Maybe because it looked like a full moon last night, or maybe it's tonight. I don't know. J left on deployment today. While driving him to the airport there were crazy circling flocks of birds that I guess were having a strange day too. Once at the airport there were approximately 50 carabinieri wandering about in riot gear. At first it was a bit alarming, but the temporary parking zone (it's a no parking, tow-away zone, but everyone parks there anyway....myself included) was quiet, making it much easier to drop him off.

On the way back I was nearly involved in an accident. There's a tricky part of road right before the exit to the autostrada. There is an on-ramp about 100 m before the exit so if there is someone speeding up to merge in (twice now there has been someone) I find it hard to judge just when I should get over into the lane. It's not supposed to be shared but the newcomers often take longer than the prescribed distance to get on and I like to get over before my prescribed distance. You can see the problem here. Somehow, I don't know how, I managed to make my exit without side-swiping the newcomer and without being rear-ended by the bus behind me. Physics was never my forte. When I play it back in my mind, I still don't know what a better course of action would have been. Slow down as soon as I see the newcomer and get behind him? I would have to slow down a lot and risk surprising mr. autobus behind me. Jeep vs. coachliner....guess who would win? Or I could speed up as soon as I see the newcomer to get in front of him but then what if he decides to full throttle in order to get on before the bus? And then how do I make the sharp exit turn at 60 miles an hour? I hate that road.

Oh, and did I mention that for the past two days, the house in the orange grove on the other side of our fence has had some sort of malfunctioning alarm that goes off at about 5 AM and doesn't stop until about 10.... or later. Yesterday it was like a random tone cell phone ring. One could never guess what the next note was going to be.... madness I tell you!

So, I'm tired, and sad that J had to leave. Luckily I am going to Rome for a few days while he is gone with my friend Maira. And then shortly after he returns we are getting a highly anticipated visit from a secret friend. If you're lucky I may reveal the secret at some point. So at least I have things to look forward to. In the meantime, I think I will do some reading. I was in the middle of "The Idiot" but I let J take it so he has something to do during his million hour layovers. So I bought a short Marquez book and "Madame Bovary" today (I started it about 10 years ago, but didn't finish) to get me through his absence and my train trips.

I'm supposed to read a Piers Anthony book that J loves because he just read my favourite book, "Master and Margarita," but I have to say it doesn't look that appealing. Sorry J, I love you and will read it for you, but I have to admit I'm quite hesitant. I hope the book proves me wrong.

I'm Taking Notes

Here are some things I've noticed in the past week that range from funny to enraging:

1. Funny: For those of you that haven't seen them, carabinieri uniforms are quite sharp. The other day, I saw a caribinieri strutting around on base wearing sunglasses. Okay, it was kind of sunny.... not that out of the ordinary. When he got closer I noticed that his sunglasses sported the mark of Coco Chanel. Only in Italy would you see a cop with designer sunglasses.

2. Incongrous: Today I saw a woman getting some eggs and milk with her WIC coupons. I don't know a whole lot about this program except that it is some sort of government-funded program for families with kids. If you make below a certain salary, you can get a certain amount of milk products and other basic nutritional necessities for free. This woman pulled the coupons out of a giant Coach bag. Not just the tiny wallet size kind that I'm eyeing at the NEX, but a big ol' sac. Hmmm......

3. Enraging: We received our new shower curtains today. Since our tub is so big I had to buy two so I bought one with French vocabulary words and the other with Spanish. We ran out of rings so we hung only the French one tonight. As we were installing it I noticed the word for elbow and it didn't sound familiar. Wow, I thought to myself, I must be really losing my vocab! Later on, I saw the same word as the definition for toe. Wait a minute! That is the word for toe! In what French speaking country is a toe the same as an elbow?! I should think none. Man, this burns me. I'm tempted to white-out that part, as ghetto as it would look. What worries me is that I won't be able to verify the Spanish one unless I run up and down the stairs between the online dictionary and the bathroom, checking each word. Sadly, my OCD might just force me to do this. I hope you're happy mr. CEO of the shower curtain language institute when I die of a heart attack!

K, gotta go to bed. I have to get up at the crack of snarf tomorrow to hit the gym.