I'm back.
Which is not to say that I'm taking the "vacation is over" thing particularly well. I am clinging to the vestiges. To wit:
5:15pm. Prosecco with a splash of limoncello and the mint I bought at the market yesterday because it smelled intoxicating, though I have no practical use for mint. Vacation's over, you say? Ha, I say.
Before embarking on my journey, I made a note in my journal of the Life List items that might potentially be accomplished. They were:
#8. Go to Rome.
#9. Speak basic Italian.
#38. Have wine in Tuscany with an Italian.
#39. Own something from Carli.
#40. Own grown-up lingerie.
#50. Visit Kath and KC in Switzerland (and pray they don't make me scale anything).
Well, hold on to your hats, friends, because many of these things came to pass.
Go to Rome. Si! Sono andata a Roma. Veni, vidi, ho mangato gelato.
Speak basic Italian. Hmmm. Well, that one's kind of a moving target isn't it. Did I use the past tense twice just moments ago? Si. Am I therefore amazing? Si. Certo. Was I able to confidently ask for a table for one and express my preference for sparkling water? Si. Did I feel like I spoke basic Italian? Not really. Though, by some measures, I think maybe I do. Perhaps I want to actually speak Italian. I will give myself a "quasi" on this one. A mezzo-check, if you will. Italian? I totally like you. Oh, sorry. I mean, Italiano? Tu mi piaci molto.
Have some wine in Tuscany with an Italian. I'm going to say no. I did have wine in Tuscany near Italians. I was even given wine by an Italian, and I did purchase wine from Italians, but "let us sit together at this tavola and raise a bicchiere insieme" still lies in the future, I'm afraid.
Own something from Carli. Not only did this not happen, this will probably never happen. However, I give myself credit for going to Lucca expressly to find out. I have been thinking about Carli since I first encountered it seven years ago, but at that point I was too intimidated to set foot inside. This time, I went; I asked to see two rings from the (gorgeous, perfect) case; I tried them on; I was told they were each more than three thousand euro; I laughed loudly in an un-chic manner and soon thereafter, departed. But at least now I KNOW. A rich man who is besotted with me is required. I'll see what I can do.
Own grown-up lingerie. I've got this one covered, people. Admittedly, I had envisioned exquisite, gossamer things, possibly purchased at La Perla. Indeed, I did go in to La Perla and let's just say that you could buy three bras there, or a ring from Carli. Still. Lace has been achieved. Matching has been achieved. This marks significant progress. And it's all thanks to a pre-vacation sale at the Gap. You laugh, but I'm totally hot and I can still afford to pay my rent.
See Kath and KC in Switzerland (and pray they don't make me scale anything). Yes! And hooray. My cousin and her husband have been living in Switzerland for twenty years and I have never managed to see them there. They live in a tiny town with the most dramatic landscape imaginable. I was overjoyed to see them there, at last. I found it unexpectedly moving to visit a blood relation in such an improbable place.
So, in short, it's been good. Stick around. I've got stories to tell you. Soon.
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