Sunday, March 14, 2004
191. Having something to tell a friend you know he/she’ll laugh at
192. Mascara
193. Carvel cake
194. Crunchies
195. Having a friend’s trust
196. Telling a secret
197. Flirting
198. Having someone flirt with you
199. Funny names
200. Cute/hot boys
201. Having someone become a best friend
202. Shotgun
203. Remembering something you thought you’d forget
204. Old English
205. Getting helped
206. Giving help
207. Preset radio stations
208. Burly words
209. Birds’ nests
210. Driving by the water
211. Milky pens
212. Long spoons
213. Rights on red
214. Corny rhymes
215. Spontaneous proposals
What a lovely lovely day.
I went to Guess to spend some of my Christmas gift certificates (the family is determined to make me fashionable), and bought a cute skirt and tops. (For the two people who care, black and pink striped skirt and two different pink shirts. You’ll like them.) Care came with and played in the dressing room with me, then Mich and Megan and Megan’s very nice friend whose name I don’t know came and helped too. They were very good personal shoppers and helped me put actual outfits together.
Then the group split, and Care, Mich, and I got hotdogs from Ben’s (so good—ketchup and relish—only way to eat a hotdog), and moved to Gap.
**cue 5th amendment moment music, alleluia chorus, etc**
Mich found me the perfect pair of jeans. They’re still low-rise (which bothers me because it’s impossible to find a pair of jeans anywhere that doesn’t require a thong, and while thongs are wonderful and I quite approve of them, it would be nice to have the option of not wearing one occasionally—I digress) but they’re not as super low rise as the ones I have/have tried on recently. They look like they’re molded right to my body. They’re just tight enough and loose enough that they feel like a pair of beloved jeans I’ve had for years. I’m sure I’ll rip them within 6 months with too much lovin, but hey. Perfect jeans are good cause for celebration. And then I bought another pair, same size, but not long, so I can wear sandals. Life is good.
In other news, you may all now call me Francesca. No, this is not an identity crisis or sudden multiple personality showing up (“ain’t nobody wants to mess with 23” shedaisy), but I just saw Under the Tuscan Sun, and am quite in love. I already knew I wanted to live there, but now I think I’ll really do it. Maybe between here and grad school or real world icky job stuff, maybe sometime when I’m older…but there’s NOTHING like that in the world. I hope you’ll all visit.
But before watching that, I went out to soulfood (Cooke’s Inn) with Mich. I had Pecan Crusted Chicken with Bourbon Sauce with Hint of Chocolate. My mouth sang arias. Mich’s was delicious too. And Key Lime Pie. That’s one thing about a term off and a) attempting some cooking and b) going out to some really nice restaurants with my parents and c) living in Europe for a term. My palate used to be so bland, and now I love new, interesting, slightly exotic things. (Bright, you deserve some blame/praise for this.) Wow, boy was that good.
“When you smash into something good, you should try to hold on until it’s time to let go.” Italian man in UtTS. Oh, the wine, the sunflowers, the food, the gardens, the villas, the colors…I just had to get out my travel journal when I got home.
“I’m looking out at Italian countryside, dirt fields of sand, milk chocolate, rich dark chocolate. Giant hay rolls stand in the fields, there are grape vines everywhere, from tiny fields in backyards to as far as the eye can see with no buildings at all. Fields of sunflowers stand next to crumbling stone buildings, strolling goats, hills of brown and green. Sections are modern, and parts look as ancient as the art we’ve seen. The dusty, golden, chocolate colors blend together with new green, gray green, gold green, and dark green. I wish I could draw. An old stone house stands by itself in a field, with crumbly brown earth on one side and rows and rows of grape vines on the other. Every once in a while, rivers snake by. Houses on top of terraced hills look out on the fiends, and stands of larger trees separate field from field. I’m going to read Agony and Ecstasy with whole new levels of understanding.”
“An old man in a compartment started trying a conversation in English. He was very proud, having lived in England 30+ years ago for a few years and only going to school from 6-11 years. His wife, Francesca, was better. A great grandmotherly figure with sparkling dark eyes and short silver hair. Franca, as he called her, and Anonio had honeymooned in Rome and Florence. It’s so rare to see two people still in love after that long, but even without speaking the same language I could tell. The pride in his voice each and every time he said “my wife,” the gentle love in hers while she told me a little about their lives, the gentle way they poked fun at each other was beautiful. Nice to see a couple who did it! She was very pleased I understood “te amo.” They gave us their compartment when they left.”
“There followed one of the most beautiful 3 hour naps in the history of the world. Like a true feline, I curled up on the end of the bed because the sun was pooled there. The windows were open, the water was splashing with the boats below, refreshing sea breeze flowing through, water reflections dancing on the ceiling, church bells and boat horns sounding. Felt like Martha’s Vineyard on the sailboat. I was so happy. We tried to get up a few times, but it was just too great. All the travel caught up with us. We got up, got lunch, and wandered the streets. We headed toward Rialto and looked at the shops and markets—fish, fruit, tons of glass and masks and fashions.”
Most of that was written on trains between naps and in bed before passing out, and I should really edit it and type some of it up. But reading it brings me right back there…what a happy thought. I love Italy!
Although, the recent future holds Florida, humid, hot, and hell raising. The Jags and I are preparing ourselves for the dancing of a lifetime. Not only have we not danced together for two and a half terms, a record dancing together celibacy, but we are both now quite single. I think that means she may not be my lover this year. Sigh. Well, we’re planning on being beach babe bums by day and darling dancing divas by night. (That was sooo corny I’m not even going to delete it.) Well. Should be good times.
This is the second night in a row I’ve been up ‘til 3! Bad. Wow, this got way long. Firenze, Venezia, Roma…
To sleep, perchance to dream…Dream sweet.
|
192. Mascara
193. Carvel cake
194. Crunchies
195. Having a friend’s trust
196. Telling a secret
197. Flirting
198. Having someone flirt with you
199. Funny names
200. Cute/hot boys
201. Having someone become a best friend
202. Shotgun
203. Remembering something you thought you’d forget
204. Old English
205. Getting helped
206. Giving help
207. Preset radio stations
208. Burly words
209. Birds’ nests
210. Driving by the water
211. Milky pens
212. Long spoons
213. Rights on red
214. Corny rhymes
215. Spontaneous proposals
What a lovely lovely day.
I went to Guess to spend some of my Christmas gift certificates (the family is determined to make me fashionable), and bought a cute skirt and tops. (For the two people who care, black and pink striped skirt and two different pink shirts. You’ll like them.) Care came with and played in the dressing room with me, then Mich and Megan and Megan’s very nice friend whose name I don’t know came and helped too. They were very good personal shoppers and helped me put actual outfits together.
Then the group split, and Care, Mich, and I got hotdogs from Ben’s (so good—ketchup and relish—only way to eat a hotdog), and moved to Gap.
**cue 5th amendment moment music, alleluia chorus, etc**
Mich found me the perfect pair of jeans. They’re still low-rise (which bothers me because it’s impossible to find a pair of jeans anywhere that doesn’t require a thong, and while thongs are wonderful and I quite approve of them, it would be nice to have the option of not wearing one occasionally—I digress) but they’re not as super low rise as the ones I have/have tried on recently. They look like they’re molded right to my body. They’re just tight enough and loose enough that they feel like a pair of beloved jeans I’ve had for years. I’m sure I’ll rip them within 6 months with too much lovin, but hey. Perfect jeans are good cause for celebration. And then I bought another pair, same size, but not long, so I can wear sandals. Life is good.
In other news, you may all now call me Francesca. No, this is not an identity crisis or sudden multiple personality showing up (“ain’t nobody wants to mess with 23” shedaisy), but I just saw Under the Tuscan Sun, and am quite in love. I already knew I wanted to live there, but now I think I’ll really do it. Maybe between here and grad school or real world icky job stuff, maybe sometime when I’m older…but there’s NOTHING like that in the world. I hope you’ll all visit.
But before watching that, I went out to soulfood (Cooke’s Inn) with Mich. I had Pecan Crusted Chicken with Bourbon Sauce with Hint of Chocolate. My mouth sang arias. Mich’s was delicious too. And Key Lime Pie. That’s one thing about a term off and a) attempting some cooking and b) going out to some really nice restaurants with my parents and c) living in Europe for a term. My palate used to be so bland, and now I love new, interesting, slightly exotic things. (Bright, you deserve some blame/praise for this.) Wow, boy was that good.
“When you smash into something good, you should try to hold on until it’s time to let go.” Italian man in UtTS. Oh, the wine, the sunflowers, the food, the gardens, the villas, the colors…I just had to get out my travel journal when I got home.
“I’m looking out at Italian countryside, dirt fields of sand, milk chocolate, rich dark chocolate. Giant hay rolls stand in the fields, there are grape vines everywhere, from tiny fields in backyards to as far as the eye can see with no buildings at all. Fields of sunflowers stand next to crumbling stone buildings, strolling goats, hills of brown and green. Sections are modern, and parts look as ancient as the art we’ve seen. The dusty, golden, chocolate colors blend together with new green, gray green, gold green, and dark green. I wish I could draw. An old stone house stands by itself in a field, with crumbly brown earth on one side and rows and rows of grape vines on the other. Every once in a while, rivers snake by. Houses on top of terraced hills look out on the fiends, and stands of larger trees separate field from field. I’m going to read Agony and Ecstasy with whole new levels of understanding.”
“An old man in a compartment started trying a conversation in English. He was very proud, having lived in England 30+ years ago for a few years and only going to school from 6-11 years. His wife, Francesca, was better. A great grandmotherly figure with sparkling dark eyes and short silver hair. Franca, as he called her, and Anonio had honeymooned in Rome and Florence. It’s so rare to see two people still in love after that long, but even without speaking the same language I could tell. The pride in his voice each and every time he said “my wife,” the gentle love in hers while she told me a little about their lives, the gentle way they poked fun at each other was beautiful. Nice to see a couple who did it! She was very pleased I understood “te amo.” They gave us their compartment when they left.”
“There followed one of the most beautiful 3 hour naps in the history of the world. Like a true feline, I curled up on the end of the bed because the sun was pooled there. The windows were open, the water was splashing with the boats below, refreshing sea breeze flowing through, water reflections dancing on the ceiling, church bells and boat horns sounding. Felt like Martha’s Vineyard on the sailboat. I was so happy. We tried to get up a few times, but it was just too great. All the travel caught up with us. We got up, got lunch, and wandered the streets. We headed toward Rialto and looked at the shops and markets—fish, fruit, tons of glass and masks and fashions.”
Most of that was written on trains between naps and in bed before passing out, and I should really edit it and type some of it up. But reading it brings me right back there…what a happy thought. I love Italy!
Although, the recent future holds Florida, humid, hot, and hell raising. The Jags and I are preparing ourselves for the dancing of a lifetime. Not only have we not danced together for two and a half terms, a record dancing together celibacy, but we are both now quite single. I think that means she may not be my lover this year. Sigh. Well, we’re planning on being beach babe bums by day and darling dancing divas by night. (That was sooo corny I’m not even going to delete it.) Well. Should be good times.
This is the second night in a row I’ve been up ‘til 3! Bad. Wow, this got way long. Firenze, Venezia, Roma…
To sleep, perchance to dream…Dream sweet.
