Okay, now it seems to be working! Well good then! On with the show! Today's title is:

Days of Tranquility and Giddiness

Milan was wonderful!! It was so much fun going shopping in THE fashion capital of the world. Of course, I didn't actually venture inside any of the "-ucci" stores, as I lovingly refer to the Gucci, Pucci, and the rest of the gang of Italian fashion designers. But I definitely strolled merrily along the fashion boulevard (Via Monte Napoleano) pondering how a purse alone could cost upwards of $800. Ah, the perplexities.

But, what was really exciting about being in Milan was the lunch that we had on Thursday, which was SUSHI!! That's right, folks! It does exist here in Italy! Of course, we went to this sushi bar and we literally ordered "sushi". That was the name of our dish. We didn't select what kind of fish or anything. No. It was just -- "sushi". Vabbe'... it was still wonderful! With soy sauce and wasabi! Oooh oooh! You have no idea how exhilirated I was! I was definitely giggling up and down the streets of Milan. Ooh! Plus, in Milan there is an official Kiehl's shop! How wonderful is that?! It was such perfect timing because I was just running out of my favorite moisturizer when lo and behold there is my savior Kiehl's shop standing before me. Plus the lady was really nice and gave me samples. Which I realize they always do with Kiehls, but I felt all special, y'know? Yes, it was nice. Moisturized and full of sushi.

Ooh ooh! And then guess what?! Well, Professor Springer's husband, Leighton, told me on the train going up to Milan that their fruttivendolo (ie: neighborhood fruit shop seller) does swing dancing. SWING!! Can you imagine?! How long have I been without my beloved beloved swing. Oh lordie, too too long. He also told me that he had just lost his partner. Not in the sense that she died, but that they broke up and so y'know... Anyways, so, promptly on Saturday morning I trekked on over to their fruttivendolo, waited until there weren't any customers, and said: "Si, umm... buongiorno... i miei amici mi hanno detto che c'e qualcuno che balla?" To which the fruttivendolo said, "Si, sono io." and after this I just sort of went crazy and all excited and gesticulating and probably not making any sense at all but managed to convey that yes I love to dance and do you really do swing because I've been looking all over Italy but it just doesn't exist. (Well, he actually does "boogie woogie"... yes... you heard right. It's the Italian form of swing, which is sort of like west coast. But hey, it's a start.) So anyways, we exchanged phone numbers and he is teaching a lesson TONIGHT! So voila! I am going to go to a dance lesson. Yippee!

Oh yes, we also did a passeggiato on Sunday, when I called him in the afternoon and we just walked around the center of town. He is very nice, his name is Pino. He is pretty old (well, 35 which I know really isn't that old afterall) but he looks very young, and besides, don't you remember Harold from the DogHouse, who has to be at least 60 but lordie he turns me around and around (to my delight and glee) more than the young'uns do! It was funny because then I asked Pino to guess my age, and he thought that I was 28 years old!!! AAAACK! I swear, I don't have wrinkles or anything! Right? Right? Oye. Especially with my birthday coming up in 9 days, I don't know if that is good news or not. Eep! Speaking of birthdays...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TINA!

I hope that you have an absolutely marvelous 20th birthday, you young'un, you! I love you and I miss you tons!

Okay, so getting back to my story... I actually don't think it is a bad thing to be that old. Because, like wonderful Fosca said, once you get to your mid-20s, you stop taking shit from people. That is what I really need to learn how to do. Because Lord knows I just take too much from people in my attempts to be nice or not to offend. Which is absolutely ridiculous! And I really do try not to take shit from people, but it is a slow learning process. I started my lessons on Sunday, though.

Well, Saturday night. Because this guy, Davide, sat across from me in Edison (oh that fateful bookstore) and started chatting with me, etc. Well, he is definitely, it turns out, one of those very pushy guys. Oye. Why? Why?? I should have known when he insisted that we go for a walk he was that way. But then I thought, oh, I've been cooped up here for so long I could do with a walk anyways. And then I should have known when he linked arms with me, but then I thought, that isn't such a big deal and besides we're walking together anyways. I was wary when he actually held hands with me, but it was just such a little step away from linking arms that I didn't feel like I really could say anything. You see how it starts? You see?? Then of course he tries to kiss me and I turn away and he is so persistant though and my head is screaming and I'm thinking why can't I say anything? Why?

It always happens like this. I was so grateful that he didn't follow me all the way home. While I was walking the rest of the way, I was feeling really depressed and wondering why my voice just disappears. And then I realized that I had to step up, and force my voice to work. So I figured it all out in my head, what I was going to say to him, and I felt much better. Relieved. And then he called me Sunday afternoon. And I actually said it! I said, listen, I already know a ton of guys who think that American girls are... "Scusa, scusa, lo so, non volevo..." Yeah, they exist and you can find them really easily, but not me.

HA! I said it!

Eeep, I have to go now because there is a prayer meeting tonight at six for peace.