so my bag arrived this morning right before i left for work, and everything was a bit compressed but present, accounted for, nonexploded. beautiful.
another day, another dollar. well, not really: i don't get paid. really, i don't understand what is going on at this damn job. but after my first caffe this morning (quality stuff, pure and strong) I am liking selecting slides from weird movies from years past during my mornings (all the while I get to update my blog and keep everyone posted as to the events of my days that are always gogogo. At this pace, I am not sure returning to Canada will be very much fun :P Anyways, we'll see where this internship goes, I am figuring out a bit more as to the 6-week plan, I would love for this experience to be a valuable one.
Allora, so yesteday, I was a bit out of it and managed to walk straight into a plate glass window. boy, was that funny. it was just so clean, so clear. There is still a smudge from my oily face and the impact of my lips, che bello. I felt so dumb. SO dumb. But my fellow student intern let me know that she too had done the same thing her first week here, and hence me and Gaia bonded a bit. I am getting a bit tired of the work, because somehow I want to be the super productive person I always am. Lunchtime found me in a local street fair and walking around the truly monumental monumental cemetary closeby. Today, however, I am just going to take it as is, slowly, taking my time, enjoying it. There is an opening at the gallery here, a little cocktail for a small show of photos of Hermes fashion (usually Grazia Neri does stuff that is more political, moving, thought-provoking, but fashion, per me, va bene).
Italian is creeping into these blogs, watch out people, before long it will be entirely in Italian since I am getting more and more exposed to la vita italiana. So yesterday, I left work early, a bit frustrated but happy I had escaped, to go on my British Airways sponsored shopping spree. I met la Marina in Piazza del Duomo and off we went to tackle the affair. Trusting her completely we wandered into Zara, H&M, Mr. Kenzy, Celio... all the good deals in town. The typical Italian way of shopping is specialty, going to one store for one thing etc etc. All those famous names Armani, D&G etc. are a bit pricey and well more for brand whores than myself. Finally, after a nice chit chat at a cafe, pausing from failed shopping, Marina and I hit up United Colors of Benetton and found stuff on the first try: three quarter light grey pants and a light blue polo. One stop later and we had gotten a cellphone... now to figure that out.
My life here is insanely busy, much more than it would ever be at home, so all the details are down here.
The evening was something quite special. Dorota, Matilde's mother, teaches English and we were going to a dinner hosted by one of her students for the students in her class (who range in age from early twenties upwards). Before going, I thought: nice Italian dinner, should be great. Well, I really didn't know what I was walking into. It was as if I had entered a wild soccer game, this one of conversation... la partita di conversazione as I like to call it. I could barely follow what was going on, moving my head to and fro. Matilde was trying to keep me up to date at first, and told me of the circle of Italian conversation (from sports to gossip to politics to love and over again). I was at a total loss. I have been totally lost in the past few days but it doesn't really get to me at all somehow, like the lit sign in the piazza del duomo tells me 'everything is going to be alright'. So to help me, some of the guests and hosts filled me in and ask me questions to me directly which was especially nice. What was also a big help was the wine tour of Italy I took last night. From Venetian prosecco, to hearty sicialian 13% alcohol red wine, to homemade tuscan wine, to dessert wine and finally to blueberry grappa. Needless to say we were all pleasantly tipsy by the end of the evening and the ride home was, shall we say interesting. I laughed so hard when I understood broken English or understood a joke in Italian (none of which I remember very well). The one thing I do remember is Dorota, who kept going on the balcony to smoke never closed the screen (to which there was an uproar) and when she did, it sprung right back open in true comic fashion. I may not have managed to say very much, but amidst the storm of conversation, jokes, and brazil's world cup game playing in the background (to which someone always yelled out eccola (here it is!) in anticipation of a goal) I had a real good time.
With my bag arrived finally, I can now settle in more and truly embrace life in Milano. We'll see what new adventures await.