April 2012
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The truth is that I’m scared. Sure, anyone can lose anyone they love at anytime. People change, grow apart, fall in love with someone else, lots of things can happen in a lifetime. But, it’s entirely different to start your life with someone convinced that they are possibly in love with someone else.
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Watching an Italian mother with her child is like watching a hen peck a worm to death. It’s slow, and cruel. Eventually the worm stops wiggling, goes limp and accepts that it’s going to be devoured.
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The first week of school in Florence was over-whelming given the fact that I was jet-lagged and refused to stop wearing high heels despite the cobblestone and my frequent falls. By then, I’d become aquinted with my room-mates, and we…
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“Only in Italy is it prefered to drink yourself retarded in the shadow of a massive cross.”