Resurfacing

Hey, everyone. Sorry for getting too into my head and soul these past several entries instead of actually telling you something of my life.

Lately I've been staying up too late and waking up too early, the extended springtime sunlight pushing me to get up and out of the house to accomplish as many things as possible while it's light. "Things" are art projects, books, errands, half-hearted attempts at exercise-- but I have a hard time concentrating on any one thing long enough to actually finish it. My shelves and bedstand are littered with partially written letters, partially read books, and scraps of paper or bus tickets with notes and quotes to put in some upcoming journal entry. I credit the restlessness to the change of season, and the panic that comes with knowing just how quickly the next ten weeks will go by.

My sweet Italian family brought home a psychadelic patterned dress for me from their Easter vacation in Berlin, and despite fears that it's not really "me" I wore it to my 10am haircut on Tuesday. (Turns out it is me.) While Fabio trimmed my bangs the conversation turned to the economic crisis, and I asked him if he felt it at Studio Pepe. "No," he told me, "And I'll tell you why: because I have regular clients with whom I have built real, good relationships. It's like a therapy when they come to my studio, and the more they feel the crisis in their lives, the more they come to me. Sometimes they come just to talk, not even for a cut, while others do things they've never done before, like add color, to cheer themselves up. We don't suffer from the crisis because we know we all have to take care of each other."

This is what I will miss about Italy! The smallness of their community, the familiarity and special personal touch in so many family businesses. I'm convinced that it exists in the Bay Area, too, though, and I'm out to find it.

I did the New Haircut Strut into the center of town to buy Simon and Garfunkel's "Bookends" album for the house. I stopped by the flowershop where my good friend vehemently advised me never to marry. Have children, yes, but settle down with a man, no. "It's not for people like us," she said with a shake of her head as she wound green wire around the tulip stems for a funeral arrangement. "People who need to move and change. Trust me - I've seen a few [men], tall and short, rich and poor, bald and with long hair - and it's not worth it. Don't marry." Information saved under mental file titled "Open After 27th Birthday."

I came home and put on the new CD while for lunch I reheated some leftover inky black rice, made with Venetian octopus ink, and sauteed asparagus. (Brief digression: our maid usually prepares a vegetable dish in the morning for us to eat at dinner, and when my host mom came home she was surprised to find the best part of the asparagus missing. The next morning she asked Giovanna what had happened to the heads of the asparagus, and Giovanna said she had cut them off. "But haven't you ever cooked asparagus before? Don't they have asparagus in Peru?," asked the petite Italian mother, in her business suit and pantyhose. "No," replied the Peruvian, good-naturedly. "Next time we get asparagus we'll cook them together, and I'll show you," was the solution.) After lunch I played guitar on the terrace until I broke a string. I worked on an article translation. I napped in the sunshine ten minutes before putting on my shoes to go get the boys from school.

This is how I pass my time these days, dabbling in many projects and hobbies. Two or three times a week I meet with four regular clients for 60- or 90-minute English lessons, for which I receive either 15 or 20 euro. This extra money generally goes towards espresso, gelato, or an after-dinner alcoholic beverage at one of my two favorite places. The rest of my weekly allowance is being prudently set aside for my travels in July, which remain unfixed as yet. (Stay tuned for more on that.) The changeable spring weather, shifting daily from beastly heat to lightning showers, has us all feeling a bit unsettled, but we've emerged grateful and strong from the darkness of winter, and now put one foot in front of the other in a dogged march towards summer...