We FINALLY found out when Daniele needs to report for duty in Verona: September 1st. This means that we need to find an apartment in July since Italy closes during August. I am really excited. This gives us plenty of time to find the perfect pad and move calmly. We are heading the Verona the first week of July to hopefully find something and sign a lease, then move during July/August. D has almost all of August off of work so it should be fine. The earlier the better, since things like internet and the like can take weeks to set up.  We have a lead on a great place near the river-it’s gorgeous and in the center-hopefully it will still be available when we go up there.

In other news: I am feeling a lot better. Basically back to normal. Still have to get another round of x-rays but I think the worst is definitely behind me.

Stay Cool.

Tags: ciao rome, finding an apartment, heat, moving, Moving within Italy, Verona

Are you like me? Are you so white compared to the Italians around you that you might be considered clear? Do people point and laugh at you on the beach and ask you if you are ill? Have you been compared to a certain white cheese? Are you concerned about the damaging rays of the Roman sun and are forced to choose between cancer and public ridicule? Well my light skinned friends, I have FINALLY found the solution:

Sephora Tinted Bronzing Mist

It actually works, doesn’t look fake and has a smell that doesn’t make me nauseous. The best part? It’s only 12 euro!

I’ve been using it for 3 days have already received many compliments for finally going to the beach!

So what’s your tanning secret?

Tags: Randomissimo

I realized my last four posts have been really depressing, and basically so has my life lately. Sorry this post is more of the same. It all has to do with STILL being sick and the movie I have been waiting to see for, like , ever (or since 2003). I had x-rays last week and it shows that the pleurisy is still there and there is some water on my lungs, which is never good. So I basically have to rest and not partake in any physically activity…of.any.kind. Sadness. I also have to get tested for tuberculosis (um, what the F?) since in very rare cases it can begin with pleurisy. GAWD. The doctor did reassure me that I would not need to quarantined, the test is only a precaution.

To try to cheer me up, D agreed to see SATC with me. It is playing in Rome IN ENGLISH (with Italian subs) at the Warner Village in Piazza della Repubblica. Seems like every english speaking study abroad chick dressed up in thier finest from miles around came to see the flick at the same time as me. We were in line for tickets when the group of ten 18 year olds screamed as they bought the last tickets to the 9.30 showing. Great. The next show was at 12.30am. Since we had already circled Rome for an hour trying to find a parking spot, we decided to buy tickets for the late screening. So we had like 3 hours to kill. A few strawberry daiquiris and a spritzer later, we went back to the theatre to wait.

I really like SATC on the little screen, but on the big screen it just seemed different. I didn’t hate it, but felt kind of disappointed after. Maybe it was all the hype, combined with all the waiting for it to be released (I remember thinking only 105 days left!) it got my hopes up then 2 and a half hours later it was like: that’s it? It’s definitely better than the other crap I have seen in the theater as of late (Ironman comes to mind) so it wasn’t a total loss. Still good, but just not the same.

Tags: Jessica

Sometimes I wish the internet didn’t exist. I think it makes it hard to forget the past. Sometimes, you just want people out of your life. Sometimes, moving to a different country doesn’t give you enough space. Thanks to the intertubes, that person lingers there and sometimes the temptation to check their profile, or see pictures or hear news about them shows up on the profiles of mutual friends. Let me explain.

I had a best friend. We traveled to Europe together twice, we lived in the same apartment, and I worked with her sister and even moved into her parent’s house with her when we were trying to save up money for our next European adventure. I felt like she was my sister in every way. After coming back from our last Roman holiday (the one where I met D) I decided not to mooch off her wonderful parents again and packed up my car to go live with my mom in Spokane. It was a sad goodbye. I missed her a lot. But then things got weird. When I left for Spokane, not only was I leaving her behind but the life I had spent 5 years building there. Friends, favorite places, work and my ex boyfriend J.

When I first won the free tickets to Rome from my work, I was supposed to go with my boyfriend J. He was an overall nice, nerdy guy, a graphic designer (so cliché Seattle) working from his one bedroom apartment. He was so involved with his job he often put me on the back burner. Finally we could take a vacation together in a fabulous location. But he kept pushing the date back and me away. So I told him to forget it, I was going to go with my BFF. She was my biggest defender, always telling me I deserved better than J, that he was a downer who was holding me back. I couldn’t disagree, it was true. He never did anything else but work, which is fine, but he had no business being in a serious relationship. So before we jumped on our plane to Rome (for the first time) I told him I wanted a break. Then I went wild. It was the first time I was “single” and I definitely indulged. Upon returning home, J was crushed. I was confused and the relationship was in a weird gray area. Then I told him we were going back for 3 months, I was quitting my job, moving in with my friend and her parents. He freaked, screaming that my friend was a bad influence, how could I throw everything away, ect. We still kind of saw each other, but the relationship was circling the drain. My friend was nothing but supportive, encouraging me to just forget him. Plus they had never really gotten along anyways and I was always forced to choose between them.

So off we went back to Europe and J refused to talk to me. Then I met D. I wasn’t sure where we were going, and by the time the 3 months was up and I returned back home, I still had no clue what our status was. So basically, I had two sort-of relationships. J called me when I got back. I think he wanted to see me for closure. We cried and spent 4 days together. It was weird though, because I was thinking about D. Then it was time for me to go to Spokane. My friend told me to forget J, and to get my crap together so I could move back to Seattle.

Then there were the pictures. All kinds of pictures of my friend with J all over myspace. Then I find out that she had “crashed” at his place. I couldn’t help but be outraged. We always had the rule that you don’t go after a guy the other likes, not to mention the guy you were involved with for over 2 years. What the hell was my friend doing at my ex’s house, drinking and spending the night? I talked to J and he called me a manipulative B word. Apparently he found out about D (I wonder who could have told him?). So that was the last time I ever talked to him. I talked to my friend and she told me nothing was going on. Then D and I got serious and I moved to Rome. It was weird because she wasn’t at all supportive. I felt a huge distance between us. Months passed, and a friend’s boyfriend accidentally told me that my friend and J were sleeping together and had been for god knows how long (as in, I could have still been with him while it started). I never talked to my friend again after she found out I knew. I did hear bits and pieces through a mutual friend who hoped we could reconcile, but I wasn’t interested to say the least.

Out of the blue a few months ago, I got an email from my ex friend. No apology, just “I don’t know why we haven’t talked in forever, I miss you.”

I wrote her back and told her I wasn’t interested in her friendship, that there was no way I could ever trust her again, and that I wondered if we had ever even really been friends.

What I didn’t say was that she damaged me. My experience with her breaking my heart has made me untrusting and almost uninterested in having a best friend. I mean, I have friends, but I am scared to get that close to anyone again.

The fact that all this went down well over a year ago (starting almost 2 years ago) doesn’t make it any easier. The fact that there is an ocean and a continent between us means nothing when her face is right there on a mutual friends Flickr page. Something makes me feel like this is unhealthy. In the time before all of these social networking sites, when shit hit the fan you were able to move on without constant reminders of the people you wish you could forget. I mean, I moved thousands of miles away and I feel like it is still right there in my face. Sure I am not thinking about her 24 hours a day, but when a new picture of her surfaces I get that nauseous feeling and wish I could un-see it.

I wish I could unplug and let my old life fade into a distant memory. Or better yet, I wish I learn to trust again.

Tags: American Stuff

Well, I survived. That’s saying a lot after the first hospital “experience”. My wrist still looks disgusting, the six inch bruise is going to take forever to heal. I guess the girl/stab wound inflicter popped a vein.

On Monday (as in a week and a half ago) when D said I had to go back to the hospital after talking to our GP, I starting crying, ok bawling, which really sucks when it hurts to breathe. He promised me he wouldn’t take me back to that place since I was obviously still traumatized. I reluctantly went to the Policlinico Casilino (Via Casilina), not the best area of town but I was shocked that the hospital looked shiny and new. When we went in there was no smoking people or staff blocking the doors. There was even several large signs forbidden it. This is my kind of place!

The inside was nice as well, everything looked new, there was a million nurses running around and the chairs we perfectly functional and comfortable. It looked very much like the hospital from my hometown, and even had separate rooms for patients, plenty of beds (unbroken), curtains and more than one doctor. The wait sucked, but that’s an ER for you. When I was seen about 3 hours had passed. I walked into the room and there was this lady, a patient, dumping all these prescriptions on the bed where I was being told to lie down. She and the doctor were yelling back and forth, arms flailing widely. He was telling her that her visit was over and she needed to get out, there were patients (ME) that were in worse condition that needed to be seen. He finally got her to leave and not a minute later the door flung open and she rushed back in with 25 more questions for the doctor. He got pissed (at that moment he was trying to listen to my lungs) and told her “PER FAVORE!!” Then he called for security and these two guards came in from behind a curtain (connecting two rooms?) and escorted her out. If I didn’t feel on the edge of death, I would have seen the humor in the situation at the time. But really, that lady was ridiculous! I had been in horrible pain for 3 hours waiting patiently for this doctor and here she is, barging in.

The doctor was awesome to me though. He was excited to speak English to someone, even though it was hard for me to answer back with the bum lungs and all. I cried when he started pressing my ribcage, it hurt so badly. Weirdly, he thought it might be a kidney infection. I have had those before and they never affected my ability to breathe. But the tests were negative and he ordered chest x-rays. Back in the hall I went (where D was able to wait with me through the entire ordeal). There was about 10 of us waiting in the hall outside the room where the doctor was. Of us, 7 were old ladies, 1 was a middle aged guy, there was me and then a middle aged woman next to me. Then each of us had a person waiting with us. All 7 of the ladies were sent home with what amounted to indigestion, but they were really entertaining during the long wait. One kept wailing that her daughter hated her, even though she was right there holding her hand at 2 am. And one kept hitting her daughter with her cane telling her to go home.

An hour later I was taken down the hall. Getting the X-rays sucked because I had to stand and put my arms over my head-both terribly painful. After that I was wheeled back to D and waited. An hour later the doctor came and told us the diagnosis, pleurisy, and gave me some ineffective, intravenous pain killers. After they were done, about and hour and a half later I was released. But I was prescribed meds and painkillers.

The next morning I felt the same, but I was able to get pain relief with the help of a nurse, a syringe and a shot to my ass. Embarrassing, considering the nurse is my neighbor, but it was all good. It felt great to be able to take a breath minus the stabbing pain.

Today, I am off the meds and the only thing that hurts is my butt muscle from the painkillers. But I am not complaining. It’s still harder to breathe than normal and I get tired easy. But all in all I feel way better. The best thing is I am not traumatized by the hospital anymore, you just need to know where to go.

Tags: Italian Healthcare, Italian hospitals, pleurisy, sick

I had to go back to the emergency room last night. But the good news is we went to a different one and it was a lot better. I have been diagnosed with pleurisy which is not fun and I am in lots of pain Write more soon.

Thanks for all the nice comments, it’s helping!

Tags: Jessica

It started with a tightness in my chest and feeling like I couldn’t breathe. At 1am on Friday D drove me to the emergency room, since I didn’t want to take any chances. We pull up near the entrance and we made our way to the doors. Standing outside is about 30 people, a mixture of people waiting, doctors, nurses and EMTs all SMOKING right at the entrance to the ER. I was struggling to breathe as it was, and found it even more difficult with the wall of smoke acting as a barricade to the hospital. We went through the doors, which were left open, and the smoke followed us inside. We when to the nurses station and there was no one there. After 10 minutes one of the nurses from outside stomped her cigarette into the ground and came to the desk. We checked in and were told to wait. Nothing unusual about that in a emergency room. Then they said I would have to sit alone in the patient waiting area. I looked in and there was no chairs, no beds, just one room stuffed beyond capacity with patients in all stages of agony. I think the nurse saw the worried look on my face and told me I could stay with D in the “parents” waiting room. I chose this because there was at least a chair for me to sit in. The downside was this room had a door to the outside and there was about 10 people standing in front of it smoking. My general impression of the hospital was that it was dirty, there was garbage all over the waiting room and mysterious stains on the gray floors. The chairs were old and mostly broken. I kind of expected this, after all the health care is free (as in universal-I know we pay in taxes) and who knows what money is actually available for maintenance.

About 2 hours went by and I was called back to be seen. I entered into another large room, filled with mostly elderly patients laying on stretchers and the rest sitting in chairs or on the floor. Many were groaning in pain, and crying. D came with me because it was hard to speak loud enough to be heard over the other patients in my condition. D told the doctor sitting behind the desk that it was hard for me to breathe and my lungs hurt. She looked at us with disgust and asked me what language I spoke. I said “inglese” and then she wanted to know if I was on vacation. D said I was his wife and that I lived here. She began typing into the computer using only her pointer fingers. Then she said it was impossible for my lungs to hurt because they don’t have pain receptors. D said rather annoyingly that “her chest hurts then”. At that point scary doctor (the only doctor on shift that night, in a busy ER) said she wasn’t sure what they could do besides take my blood and maybe do x rays. Then she forced D to leave. I was taken behind this ratty curtain and told to lay on a this old looking bed. An assistant told me she needed to take my blood. She grabs my wrist and tells me not to move. She then puts a needle into my wrist right underneath my hand on the side where my thumb is. I have never had blood drawn from this area, and OH MY GOD it hurt so bad! After a few minutes she took even more blood from my inside elbow. The scary doctor came behind the curtain and “examined” me. I say that in quotes because she maybe listened to my chest for ten seconds, the whole time screaming at a nurse on the other side of the curtain. She disappears and the girl who took my blood then attempts an EKG. It was the old school machine with the knobby suction cups. None of them would stick to me, I think the suction cups were too worn out. So kept trying to force them and it hurt a lot being that my chest was already in pain. They ended up leaving little bruises all over me. During all of this, my wrist was throbbing. I asked if it was supposed to hurt so bad and she didn’t answer me. Then she told the scary doctor the EKG wasn’t functioning. She had me get up and stood me next to this blood pressure machine that was sitting near the floor. She put my arm in the cuff then walked away. So I stood in the middle of all the elderly patients in the room, with no chair, hunched over clutching my purse and jacket with my wrist that was swelling to twice it’s normal size. 10 minutes later she came back and directed me to sit in this dark hallway (no smokers yay). There were a few chairs, even more miserable looking than the ones in the waiting room. A girl next to me had all sorts of tubes sticking out of her and was shaking violently. She was in obvious pain. She pleaded to scary doctor when she walked by for help. She said she was too busy and what if a person with a heart attack was coming in? That didn’t make sense to me. I sat down and tried to drown out the noises around me.

About another 2 hours passed in the dark hallway. The combination of the unsteady chair, not being able to lie down, rest or talk to D made me feel worse. I wished I never came here. I peeled off the bandage on my wrist. My wrist was huge, black and hurt like a son of a bitch. I took the other bandage off of my arm to find a rash. I have sensitive skin and was probably allergic to the adhesive. I just wanted to leave.

After debating the pros and cons, I came to the conclusion that I’d rather die at home than stay in this god forsaken hospital for another second. I mustered up the courage and approached scary doctors desk. I asked if I could speak to my husband and she said absolutely not without giving me a reason. Not having strong command of Italian at the moment nor the energy to argue, I turned around back to my chair. Then I saw a guy at the end of the hallway who’d I’d seen in the “parents” waiting room. With a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking, I very slowly walked as fast as my lungs would let me and found on the other side the waiting room. D saw and ran up to me. I burst into tears, showed him my wrist and dramatically told him I didn’t want to die in this hellhole. He agree and told me at this time in the morning we could just call our regular doctor. He told me to go back and sit tight. A few minutes later I hear a nurse come in and say the American girl’s husband wants to discharge her. I got up and went over to the nurse. She asked me if this was what I wanted and I said yes. Then scary doctor stated I didn’t understand and to bring D in here. Then they got into a yelling match where the doctor said I was impatient and didn’t want to wait my turn. D said it wasn’t that, it was just taking so long that we could get better treatment elsewhere. The doctor was furious that D was questioning her ability and then he said she hadn’t even performed a real exam on me and I have just gotten worse since being here. She threw together discharge papers and slammed them on the desk for me to sign. Then we left.

On the walk to the car I burst into tears again. I have never been treated so bad at a hospital before. I know my situation is probably minor to others, but it was scary to me at the time. Not being able to breath is never fun. All I want is to go to a hospital and get answers and help. Not to leave worse off. I don’t want to start a huge debate, I know doctors in Italy have a lot to overcome. I am not bashing the system as a whole, but there is some serious flaws in this hospital. I hope I never have to go back there.

Tags: Italian Healthcare, Italian hospitals

Italy is awesome (and awesomely frustrating for foreigners) so no wonder there are zillions of books written about it. These books range from guidebooks to essays to memoirs. Here I have picked the 5 books written about Italy that if I had my way, would be unwritten and I would get the hours back I spent reading them, a refund of the money from buying them and have my brain erased of any and all remnants of these atrocities. Below I write my opinions of the books, followed by the funniest Amazon reviews I could find (if they are available).

#5 Desiring Italy: Women Writers Celebrate the Passions of a Country and Culture-Susan Cahill

My Opinion: This should be titled Desiring My Time Back. Luckily, I didn’t pay any money for the book as it was a part of a book exchange (though I paid in terms of the agony inflicted on me by reading it). It’s basically a collection of essays written by women who have traveled to Italy. When I cracked open the book, I struggled to keep my eyes open. This is coma inducing unless you really love complicated, Victorian era writing. Maybe it gets better, but even after jumping around a bit I couldn’t get into to any of the writings. It reminded me of the required readings in a high school English class.

Amazon review: (Sadly this was the only critical review of the book out of the few that were left. I can only assume people didn’t leave a review because they quickly wanted to forget they had ever read it.)

Unfortunately, I was disappointed by the book; it did not meet my expectations or hold my interest so I abandoned it in our hotel room. -SM

Why You Shouldn’t Bother: If you’re like me, you look to books to inspire you. The only inspiration I got while reading this was to sleep-long and hard. Unless you are a real lover of dry essays compiled into a book, skip it.

#4 Rick Steves’ Italy-Rick Steves

My Opinion: I had high hopes for this guidebook, after all Steves’ was practically my neighbor (we lived in the same area of Seattle). When I had won free tickets to Rome, I had virtually zero travel experience. I was in need of some guidance. I went to one of his lectures about Rome and was horrified. With his little slide show filled with gypsies begging next to the Colosseum, I felt like I was traveling to a war zone. Steves’ said not to worry and by purchasing his guidebook, we would have the tools we needed to take on Rome. So I bought it and upon reading it I was even more terrified than before. Based on his book, I was going to have babies thrown at me while a rabid group of children ransacks my pockets and purse. Anyone having traveled to Rome would soon figure out what nonsense this all is. I feel more safe in Rome than I do in my hometown of Spokane, Washington. While pickpocketing does happen here, I have never experienced any of the things Rick described in his lecture and guidebook (that’s not to say it NEVER happens though). I continued to use the book to get ideas on where to eat and what to see. Sadly, everything Rick writes about gets ruined. I’m sure when he had first visited these places, they were good. But now they suck because of the unrelenting hordes of “Rickniks” that descend upon them. Most of the small businesses can’t keep up with the demand and the places recommended basically turns into overpriced tourist restaurants with frozen food being passed off as authentic. All the restaurants and “back door” sites were filled with other Americans carrying this guidebook. Oh and don’t get me started on Cinque Terre.

Amazon reviews:

Hey folks - did you know there’s nothing to see in Rome? You might as well move on. That’s according to Rick Steves. He writes “For most travelers, Rome is best done quickly… Italy is more charming elsewhere.” He recommends Rome as a side-trip from somewhere else!!! I think our friend Rick has been hitting the grappa rather hard because, to anyone who’s been there, it’s clear that he doesn’t know what in the world he’s talking about. -tony 7962

Steves says he’s giving you “only the best” of Italy, but what he really means is that he covers only the most obvious, tourist-trodden destinations…if you want to step off the beaten path (meaning really off the path, not to Steves’ “finds,” which have been in every decent guidebook for half a century), you’re on your own. (He pretends that Sicily doesn’t even exist. Amazing.) And the restaurant recommendations follow suit — tourist traps. I got in the habit of looking into the places he suggested, just to make sure I wasn’t missing something, but didn’t eat in any of them after the first couple of days. Time and again it was the same thing: a room full of American customers and tired-looking Italian waiters with painted-on smiles.-a customer

Why You Shouldn’t Bother: Unless your dream vacation in Italy consists of surrounding yourself with hundreds of other Americans pushing and shoving into hotels and restaurants recommended by Rick, then don’t buy this book. I have found reading blogs (shameless plug?) offers much better advice on where to go, what to see and what to eat than any guidebook does. Plus, most of these places a local blogger would recommend would never have 20 buses parked outside.

#3 Living La Dolce Vita-Raeleen D’Agostino Mautner

My Opinion: I bought this in a hurry which was probably my first mistake. Instead of it being a book about a woman in Italy like I had imagined based on the cover, it is a self help book with loose Italian tie ins that are mostly just common clichés about Italy and Italians: family values, good food, friendship, slowing down. As I was reading it seemed like the author has never visited Italy and is just going on what seems to be common characteristics of an Italian lifestyle (”Family is the focal point of Italian life” pg.1). My suspicions were confirmed again when on page 97 she gives a recipe for “Spaghetti and Meatballs alla Mamma” !?!?!?!? At that point, Daniele made me stop reading the book and threw it away.

Funny Amazon reviews:

In the epilogue, the author expresses her resentment of how “Hollywood” stereotypes Italians. Perhaps she hasn’t noticed that the preceding chapters do exactly that, but instead illuminating all the “positive” stereotypes of Italians. The Italian people are diverse just as Americans, and it is unfair many of them do not live the “dolce vita” as described.-Travis

The advice she gives reads like something out of an article in “Seventeen Magazine”. For example, here are some of her tips for cultivating friends, Italian style: 1)Spend the time it takes to cultivate new friends. 2)Go beyond the superficial to create intimacy. 3)Practice giving and receiving affection. 4)Be willing to listen. 5)Show loyalty in your words and actions. I bet you never would have thought of those things on your own, right?-L.A in CA

Why You Shouldn’t Bother: 99% of the advice is common sense, and putting an unimformed Italian theme on the advice is just annoying.

#2 As The Romans Do-Alan Epstein

My Opinion: I had high hopes for this, after all it was on Oprah! But I just couldn’t get past all the stereotypes and generalizations (also read Shelley’s awesome review of this book as she draws similar conclusions). For example: All Italians LOVE ironing and do not like dryers, they all hate dishwashers and have no clue as to how to decorate a Christmas tree. Oh and all women dress to the nines all day, every day. This is not the Italy I live in. I have Italian friends that hate ironing as much as I do, love their dishwasher and can decorate X-mas trees beautifully. I also see women and men in sweats or tracksuits out and about daily. I could go on and but…

Funny Amazon reviews:

This book is an infuriating collection of stereotypes, errors and prejudices.-S Sabes

Clearly this author had two goals in mind: 1) to take advantage of the Americans-living-in-Europe publishing trend, a la Frances Mayes, and 2) to brag endlessly! I got tired of reading about the author’s expensive apartment and furniture, his Mercedes and his impressive friends after a few chapters and gave up on this.-E.Griffin

Reading this book reminded me of why I don’t like to be invited to a slide show of somebody else’s trip– you had to be there. Amateur photography and amateur writing just do not convey the essence of a place very well - disco75

When Mr. Epstein isn’t begging for attention when recounting his associations with washed-up American politicians, or his fifteen minutes of obscure fame induced from Oprah’s TV book club, he offers little more than obvious insights into the workings of this fine city. More attention is placed into the exquisite decorating of his new home (bragging as usual) than to the description of his characteristic Roman neighborhood.- frankpoliti

Why You Shouldn’t Bother: I think the reviews give a pretty good case as to why you should skip this one. I think very few people are able to relate to the author’s version of Rome.

#1 Under The Tuscan Sun-Francis Mayes

My Opinion: Yeah, you probably saw that one coming. But I couldn’t believe this book when I read it. Boring and horrible both come to mind. I can’t even put into words how WRONG this book is. Luckily, the Amazon reviewers do a great job, saying all that I wanted to say and more. I was literally crying from laughter after reading these reviews-they are so right!

Funny Amazon reviews:

The mindblowingly boring guide to breathtaking Tuscany…If you are a fan of Italy, don’t kill the magic with this book.-Dana Al-Husseini

Another reason that I gave it 3 stars was the author’s insistence in calling the period of afternoon rest that many people in Italy observe a “siesta”. For someone who claims to love Italian people and culture you would think that Ms. Mayes would be ashamed to use the Spanish translation of this practice. In Italian it is called “risposo” and is a very important part of Italian culture.”-H.R. Bryant “mommy fish”

Here’s the cliffsnotes version of the book: Two professors go to Italy, buy a house, fix it up, visit it every summer and Christmas and serve lots of dinners to lots of other people, all who have no story to tell either. You also get a lot of descriptions of doorways and vegetables. There, you’ve read it!-Just xLNs

Her book is full of smug, self-congratulatory prose- verbal “O lucky me!” hand-clapping- along with recipes, and “vacations from her vacation” in Tuscany with her mysterious gentleman friend, identified only as “Ed.”…She thinks Italians were put on this earth for her personal entertainment- they’re so quaint, with their funny hand gestures and odd little customs that she makes no effort to understand. Or else, they exist to perform whatever manual labor at her villa she finds too heavy or too tedious, and whatever skilled labor her exacting Martha Stewart standards of decorating demand…Her comments on Italian art are pretentious, poorly informed, and without a single interesting insight. Her one moment of humility comes when she admits her difficulties in learning Italian…But so what? She doesn’t need to know Italian. Mayes lives in the insulated dream world that only the very wealthy can afford to build around themselves…The parties she gives and attends are so unvaryingly elegant that you start wishing someone would belch, tell a dirty joke, get nastily drunk, come down with a case of Tuscan Tummy, or admit to cravings for a Big Mac. Did I mention that Mayes has absolutely NO sense of humor?-A reader

Characters besides Mayes and her high opinion of herself are nonexistent; 280 pages -is Ed her husband, her boyfriend, her slave? Whatever, I don’t even care anymore. I’d feel sorry for him if I could figure out who he is. I could go on and on, but I’m not Frances Mayes so I won’t. My advice to her is to get over herself. My advice to a potential reader is to get over your impulse to read this book. –Mystery Fan “jax475”

I know where to put this book - in the recycling bin, in the hope that it will be reborn as blank paper in the typewriter of a real writer.-A customer

How could Italy be boring? Ask Frances Mayes….-A customer

Why You Shouldn’t Bother: Huh? Oh sorry -I was still laughing at how hilariously accurate those reviews were. Seriously, how did this book get published and why was it on any best seller list?

So there you have it! What are your thoughts and opinions? What books appear on your worst list?

Tags: Randomissimo

Well, I dropped out of language school a few weeks ago. It started with being sick, then it was being out of town and then my pre paid 3 months was up. I didn’t really feel like forking over another 450 euro. So for the last few weeks I haven’t studied at all. Just when I think I am managing just fine without school, the barman at our neighbourhood bar made fun of me. Everyone thinks just because I am shy and don’t ramble on in Italian that I don’t know how to speak, or at least say “un Caffè”. Here’s how it all went down: I was at the bar with my suocera (mother in law), we were on the way back from my doctor appointment (more on that below) and I was kind of spacing out when he said something. I didn’t say anything back because I didn’t think he was even talking to me and I was deep in my own thoughts. Then he said something along the lines of “She still doesn’t speak any Italian?!?” Then my MIL said told him no only a little. At this point I had realized he was talking to me and in Italian asked what he had said. Apparently he wanted to know if I take my coffee in a tazzina o un vetro (a little mug or a shot glass). For one, no bar person has ever asked this to me, and two WHO THE HELL CARES!? The thing that really pissed me off was how I had just had a visit with my doctor and talked to him for a half hour in Italian about my medicine, how I was feeling and the upcoming plans for my medication. Did I mention this was ALL IN ITALIAN? Then when I don’t hear the bar guy ask me what my preference in coffee cup is, I am told I am basically an idiot for not speaking Italian. I know it’s not his fault, but I got no love from the MIL either. I mean, I talk to her the most out of everyone and our whole relationship takes place in Italian, but in her opinion I speak very, very little. I think maybe she is like protecting me from being embarrassed. I don’t know. I also think that people don’t actually realize how shy I am sometimes, especially when I have to think really hard before I speak. I don’t know, it’s just annoying to me. It makes me feel like I have made no progress even though I know I have. So after that whole scene I came home and signed up for Cyber Italian. I did the free trial and took the placement test and it seems pretty decent and a steal for only 40 dollars (not euro!). You get 6 months of self paced lessons, vocab, quizzes games and chats with a teacher and other students. I’m not sure what to expect, but we’ll see. I do know that I need some sort of structure or I just don’t study. I think this will be good for that.

****Ooohhh as I was writing this I realized there was a “chat with the professor” going on. I joined in and it was really fun! The teacher is an Italian living in Rome. I am quite impressed. Now I want to jump in and start the lessons. There are 2 chats a week, one in text and one over video. It seems cool and is 100 times cheaper than my school. I’ll keep you updated on how it goes. So far so good!****

Speaking of doctors (see above) I am so, so happy I have excellent doctors around me now. The one I saw the other day was my dermatologist. I have suffered from acne since I was like 14, it’s not the horrible disfiguring kind, but it’s enough to make me really self conscious. In the US, with my spotty medical insurance, I either couldn’t afford the treatments or the doctor, or they were reluctant to put me on anything other that antibiotics, which didn’t clear up my face and left my body virtually defenceless against everything that might require antibiotics (think really painful kidney infections). So basically I was screwed and still had zits. Now I have the best derm I have ever seen (and I have seen many). He is Italian and speaks no English. I glad I went with him regardless (I had a REALLY bad experience with an English speaking doctor in Rome, I will write about that soon). He had no hesitations putting me on accutane, something I have wanted forever. I am so happy! It’s been 3 months and my skin looks clearer than I can ever remember. I’ve had some gnarly side effects like back pain and crazy chapped lips, but it was nothing like suffering from the breakouts I had previously. Thank god I have universal healthcare, that’s all I can say.

In other news, I wanted to thank everyone for their advice on my blog conundrum. I still might switch over to a new site though LOL. I have great new ideas for a complete overhaul. I am kinda leaning toward moving and recreating a new pretty blog, but it is nice to know that if I get lazy none of you will care that much! Thanks buddies!

Still no word on our exact move date. GRRR. However, Daniele has been poked to death with all sorts of needles in preparation. He has to get every vaccine known to man since he will be in Afghanistan and Iraq. Poor pookie.

Tags: Learning Italian, My Neighborhood, Verona

With my upcoming move to Verona I was trying to brainstorm what to do about this blog. I’m freaking out because it doesn’t make since to have Jessica in Rome when I am not living in Rome. Here are my options:

I could leave it as is and just start a new Verona one. Or I could shut it down and transfer everything over to a new, non city specific blog, since it’s likely we may move again in the future. I guess my main problem is with the address www.jessicainrome.com. Why did I pick that?! Why not Jessica in Italy? Is it even a big deal? I hate the thought of having to reroute everyone to a new website and re-establish links and all that. On the other hand, it would be fun to build a new blog and put all of it under a non city specific theme. Or, I could just leave everything here, under this address and just change the header and graphics. But I am afraid that would confuse people who are looking for current Rome stuff. What are your opinions? I need help!

Tags: Technical