Better belated than never

When I left the States, I promised a lot of people that I would keep in touch. Promises ranged from sending pictures to keeping people updates with my search for a tango course and a job. Well, I suppose that you could either call me a hip girl, caught up with the times, or a genuine sell-out, because I've come to the conclusion that a blog must be the most convenient and reasonable way of keeping those promises. So here I am, two months and twenty-three days after my arrival in la bell'Italia, keeping you up to date on my maneuvers as a post-grad American girl against the forces of evil in the Italian bureaucracy.

Since I arrived my life here has been divided into three epochs: The month or so after my arrival was painted with a general ennui whilst job and apartment seeking. September brought a much-anticipated and welcome visit from my parents, a fabulous jaunt around Northern Italy for two weeks, and the satisfaction of finding a beautiful apartment in the country outside Siena. In the month since my parents' departure, I found a real live job working as a waitress/busser at one of the hottest tourist restaurants in town, on the Piazza del Campo in the middle of the city. The contract only lasted through October, however, and once again I'm on the search for a job, though happily settled in my pretty apartment with my un-aformentioned beau.

Perhaps the most important incident in my Italian life so far has been the passing of my Grandfather in August, shortly after my arrival here. Much to my consternation, I was persuaded by both my family at home and my new-found family here that a trip to California for the memorial was either excessively foolish or needlessly sentimental. As a consequence, I grieved from afar, but recent plans to visit my family and pay my respects at my grandfather's grave during the winter holidays have lifted my spirits on the subject.

As for the tango class, Angelo and I signed ourselves up with "Tango Siena", an association which offers classes, balls, performances, potlucks, and most of all, a social life. Twice every week now, we go to make only slight fools of ourselves, dancing from 9:30-midnight and munching on prosciutto and lasagna when we get frustrated. So it is with distinct pleasure that I announce our complete success on that front.

For the work, here's hoping. I have a couple of prospects on the horizon which will only be worth mentioning if they come through. My job at the Birreria (resteraunt on the Campo), though brief, was intense; lasting 8 hours/day, 6 days/week. The best part about the job was perhaps surprisingly NOT the incredibly, unbeatable view of the Palazzo Publico and environs, but the mixture of tourists and locals who filtered through every day. Germans tourists stroked my ego by insisting that I sounded like a Berlin native, American tourists reveled in my real-life paperback-novel love story, and I got to meet some of the most interesting Sienese locals who would come by every evening as the tourists left on their busses back to Florence. There was the old man who insisted to me that this was the "Spanish Plaza!" and that a bull lived in the Palazzo Publico, stomping out all the mice because they scare the Palio horses. There was Anna, the old half-crazy lady who came every night to play the scratch-and-win tickets and would cry out "Chee-Wa-Wa!" whenever she won. (When Anna found out I was American, she gleefully bellowed, "Obama! Chee-Wa-Wa!")

On the 11th of November, they're supposed to come connect my internet, so you'll all be hearing more of me. But in the meantime... ciao, e a dopo!