I am currently spending my time alternating between reading my novel for Italian, perusing my copy of LOVE Magazine that came today (!), and studying for my unnecessarily scary Monetary Theory midterm on Thursday.

Perhaps that’s why this video (which my Geography professor directed our attention to) is so damn entertaining, though it poses the somewhat disturbing question of when is a stereotype an accurate description and when have we gone too far?

Monday, 22 December – Florence to Frankfurt
5:00 (22:00 Sunday CST) – Throw cell phone across the room when alarm goes off
5:01 – Remember I don’t live alone and probably woke the others up with cell phone.
5:45 – Finally throw away moldy tomato sauce
6:30 – Take taxi to Florence airport
6:59 – Arrive at Florence airport 1 hr before ticket desks open
7:15 – Turn in documents to la Polizia dello Stato.  Most flawless and polite use of Italian to date. Score one for Emily.
7:30 – Start panicking when other flights get diverted to Bologna
11:15 – Leave Florence 1.5 late because of FOG
13:15 – Run frantically through Frankfurt airport looking for the flight to Chicago I missed by a half an hour that ended up being cancelled.
13:42 – Go through passport control for the fourth time
14:00 – Finally find United ticket agent
15:00 – Take shuttle to schwanky airport hotel
15:15 – Fall asleep to CNN World News
19:00 – Enjoy a glass of red wine, pumpkin soup and a classic fried German dessert. Thank you United Airlines
19:15 – Start Twilight. I thought this series was supposed to have some substance
22:30 – Fall asleep again. Final thought: Germans are so much more organized than Italians.

Tuesday, 23 December – Frankfurt to Chicago
4:30 – Wake up call. Unfortunately, this time phone is attached to wall.
6:00 – Learn the life stories of everyone on today’s flight that were supposed to be on yesterday’s.  Seriously people, sharing isn’t always caring.
6:40 – Very kind security pat down that takes the woman 20 min to realize I’m not German.
7:10 – Drink last shot of espresso Italian style and indulge in one last Aqua Panna.
7:25 – Board flight
8:45 – Learn from very nice air force pilot sitting next to me that airline oxygen masks are great hangover cures. File away for future reference.
9:00 – Go back in time
5:45 CST – Mega turbulence over UK. Geez Brown, what’d you do now?
10:50 – Arrive in Chicago to no visibility and lots of cheers
11:15 – Customs unleashes little beagle to sniff everyone’s bags for fruit. Finds five apples and one jar of jam. Success.
11:45 – Exit customs. See two Starbucks, truckers caps, 4 dozen people over 200 lbs, and only signs in English. Get effectively bitchslapped by America.
14:00 – Make all necessary phone calls to catch up on friends’ and family gossip.
14:15 – Finish first Starbucks venti Americano. Contemplate buying a junky Chicago sweatshirt because my blazer definitely needs dry cleaning.
15:00 – Eat Wolfgang Puck pizza on floor. Suddenly miss real tomato sauce.
15:30 – Dad snags day pass for me for NW Travel Club
16:15 – Could swear I’m still moving.
16:36 – Highly doubt I will see the inside of another plane today.
17:20 – Incessantly refresh United Flight Status updates webpage. New flight already delayed 3 hrs.
17:25 – Sign up for United Flight Status text alerts. Snazzy.
18:05 – Mmmm. Carrots.
18:22 – Obligatory call to Grandma to prove that I am not lying out in the snow in Norway somewhere.
18:35 – Oooh, he’s cute.
18:50 – Another flight to Sioux Falls cancelled. Suddenly glad to have decided not to crash stand by lists.
19:15 – Flight time moved up. Go to gate.
20:00 – Make friends with people around me.
20:05 – Realize new friends secretly hate me because I actually have a seat and they’re on standby. Wish I could feel guilty.
20:30 – Delay
21:00 – Delay
21:25 – Delay
22:00 – Delay
23:00 – Delay
23:15 – Boarding!
23:16 – False alarm.
23:25 – Boarding for real this time.

Wednesday, 24 December – Chicago to Sioux Falls
0:24 – Take off.
1:00 – Refuse free alcohol because I really have to pee.
2:00 – Arrive in Sioux Falls. Wish I could say the same for my luggage.
2:55 – First shower with soft water in 4 mos.
3:30 – Red wine and chips and dip. The perfect pairing.
4:00 – Sleep.

Summary: 52+ hrs of travel, one hotel stay, one Starbucks, one bitchslap, two missing suitcases, two wake up calls, one travel lounge, one bad pizza, delays, delays, delays, delays and an average of one flight per day.

Buon Natale tutti!

Q: Where’s the first place you take your parents when they come visit you in Florence?
A: Rome

Q: What do you do with your family in Italy that you never *really* do in the US?
A: Drink

Q: What do you do with you family when it’s the last week of classes and you have four exams coming up and three papers to write?
A: Eat

Q: How much time do I have to wait before I can take my brother bar hopping again?
A: Two years

Q: What do you do when it’s Black Friday and nearly the entire city is on strike so you can’t get to school?
A: Shop

Q: What do you do after your last Art History museum visit, this time to see David, on your last day of classes?
A: Go out for drinks with the professor

Q: How many more days do I have left in Italy?
A: 8

Q: How many exams do I have left?
A: 4

Q: What’s wrong with this picture?

For this semester, I took two classes that fall under the heading of “art”. One was literature and the other was an art history class. Having started off college as an English Literature major and never having taken an art history class before, I am now asking myself why, upon reflection, I’d rate my art history class so much higher than my literature.

The literature class focuses on Italian short stories and poetry from the late 1800s to the early 1900s and analyzes the change in the importance and power of the use of words in this time period. Sounds abstract and cool right? My art history class focused on the first 5 centuries after the death of Christ and analyzes the development of early christian iconology. Umm, no one told me I was going to have to go to church. So why did I like the art history so much more?

The difference lies on the emphasis on context. The lit class is all about style and less about the time period in which the writers lived. The art history class, on the contrary, is all about the time periods in which certain images became popular and has very little to do with an individual artists style or technique (fresco, what’s that?).

Why is context important?

Without context, the recent terrorist attacks in Mumbai are just a case of angsty young Pakistanis.

Without context, the American Revolution was just a bunch of men suffering from cabin fever.

Without context, Obama is just a polished orator and stylish new age politician. Not the first black man to become president of the United States or the inheritor of an economy in crisis who comes at a time when the US is in need of hope.

Without context, all the negativistic poetry we’ve been reading is just a bunch the ideas of a bunch of crabby old men, not a response to the violation of the freedom of expression during the birth of fascism.

Without context, christian images give an identiy and sense of uniformity to all churches and most religions but don’t expose the slow, progressive fabrication of a religion as it moved into the Occident.

Get my point? Context is imoprtant because it changes how we read information. Thus, whoever tells you you shouldn’t read between the lines deserves a talking to.

I fell down the stairs at Zara today. I was just walking between floors, minding my own business while trying on bomber jackets and whoo! out goes my foot from underneath. Not only did I manage to slide down nearly an entire flight of stairs on my ass, but my back as well. Fortunately, the same heel of my boot that caused me to fall caught on another step and sprung me right back up. It was simultaneously humiliating and awe-inspiring.

It has suddenly turned cold in Florence, not 5°F sort of cold fortunately but enough cold to turn your hands red and raw. Unfortunately this means that not only am I between loads of wash, haircuts, and overall styles, I’m now also in between seasons. That means I’ve had to break out the fleece and oversized sweaters. I feel incredibly scruffy. I had an incredibly decadent hot chocolate this evening with a friend of an associate of my uncle. She was all pregnant and adorable with diamond studs, perfectly bobbed hair, an adorable skirt and sweater set and an LV purse. She was also all nice and engaging and reserved in that “I graduated from Middlebury 10 years ago” sort of way. I thus felt even scruffier and all I wanted to ask her was where she gets her eyebrows waxed. Note to self: Must pick up jacket, long sleeve shirt and suitable winter shoes before Paris on Wednesday.

Oh yeah, did I mention I’m going to Paris for Thanksgiving? It’s not quite going to be the random assembly of Bostoners like in the past two years, but who can complain about Thanksgiving dinner a side street away from the Eiffel Tower? Although a 5 day Parisian shopping and touring whirlwind for two American girls could be dangerous if not incredibly exciting. Another notable weekend to add to the list.

This weekend, on the contrary, has been quite dull. I worked all Friday and Saturday, my friend came over last night (shh, don’t tell Marco) and we finally had a movie night (something we’ve both missed), complete with red wine, popcorn, gummy fruit and a long call distance to a certain guy in Britain (no, not for me). Now I just have to write a paper on the status of women in the European Union, competely solve the Italian electoral system and read 100 pages. Oh boy.

Buona sera tutti!

Em

It is November 22. That means that in one month I leave Italy. That also means it’s time to start highlighting the best of Florence so far. Tonight’s emphasis: Cibo! (i.e. food). Because, really, what would Italy be without food?

Best Coffee: Caffe Mokkarico (move over Illy)
Best sit down dinner: Caffe Piti (surprisingly amazing despite its tourist location)
Best gelato: Sorriso (with chocolate fondente and banana)
Best chocolate: Perugina “Baci” (“Kiss” in English, except better)
Most attractive waiter: The restaurant in La Spezia (There are no words)
Biggest let down: Hemingway (Famous chocolate bar that wasn’t worth the effort to find it)
Best aperitivi: tie – Slowy, Kitsch (Slowly has the atmosphere and is close, but Kitsch has the good food)
Best atmosphere: Il Santino (A little wine, anyone?)
Most surprising flavor: Il Santo Bevitore (Marco’s restaurant that I finally tried)
Best condiment: tie – Balsamic vinegar, Nutella (When you can’t use one, use the other)
Best cheese: buratta (really buttery mozzarella)
Most quaint: Da Noi (hole in the wall lunch cafe that probably wouldn’t live up to US health codes)
Best pizza: 4 Formaggi at Cardillac Cafe (you have to wait at least 5 minutes for the cheese to harden)
Best snack: dried fruit (it’s everywhere and its addictive)
Best dinner wine: a Chianti with the majority Sangiovese and a little Merlot (who needs beer?)
Only American bakery: Mamma’s Bakery (winner: bagels, loser: drip coffee, eww)
Most randomly convenient supermarket: D Market (perfect for that little piece of sugar between classes)
Coolest food market in the world: Mercato Centrale (food….everywhere)
Best university hangout: Bar Brunellesco (a shot–of espresso–for just €.80, that’s a rare find)
Best way to eat meat: Meatballs (only if you don’t like steak)
Best pasta sauce: sausage and mushrooms (since when do I like mushrooms?)
Most alluring smell: Waffels (don’t ask)
Most christmasy: roasted chestnuts (they sell them like hotdogs on a stick at the state fair)
Most pervasive chocolate brand: Kinder (surprise!)
Best water: Aqua Panna (really, it’s legit the best water you’ve ever tasted)

Ok, this list could go on forever, but I’ll stop here. Any other food inquiries? Leave a comment!

If your refrigerator doesn’t smell, you’re not buying good enough cheese.

I have been incredibly remiss in my photo posting for October. Thus, I give you a blog album of epic proportions. Locations include Florence, Pisa, Lucca, Fiesole, Rome and Perugia. And, Surprise!, there are actually people in these photos.

Enjoy!

Some how my friends and I tend to have the most ridiculous weekends. This Halloween was no exception.

We started off with dinner at our favorite aperitivi place, Slowly, in the centro (the one with the waiter of the undefined sex) which was fabulously decorated for the evening. The music was all bohemian and scary. I loved it. We had been warned by some university students that costumes weren’t a big old DON’T so we just dressed up for the occasion, neon tights, designer dresses and all. Unfortunately, it was absolutely pouring so that meant an emergency stop into Benetton to grab a trench coat. Damn, hate it when that happens.

After dinner we moved on to a bar, Fish’s, that was running a 5 shots for €5 special. However, thanks to our seemingly effortless ability to be interesting and non-slutty American girls, we got all three of our rounds on the house. Hate it when that happens, too.

Our next stop was a Halloween party in a Medieval fortress on the edge of the city. The pubblicity was strong and the crowd was massive, made up of only Italians, so we figured we were in the right place. Then we got inside. Whitewashed, dirt stained walls highlighted by strobe lighting rounded off what we in plebian terms call a Rave. Unfortunately, my friends and I have not come into contact with remotely enough drugs in our entire life to be at a level to enjoy the event. So, we left.

We searched for what seemed like forever after the fortress for a dance club we’d been to last weekend, causing two of my friends to miss their last bus back home and another one to give up and go home. And yet we pushed on until we found it. Once there we spent the night dancing our hearts out and warding off way too forward and sketchy dancers of the opposite sex, with the help of the fabbest two gay men from Milan. We stayed until we were all pumpkins and rolled on home in the wee hours. How I managed to accomplish more homework today than in any other weekend, I have no idea. Maybe I just needed a little diversion.

What’s on tap for next weekend, you ask? Why, it’s the Ferrari F1 World Finals of course!

But, before that, there’s the election, also known as the day in which Emily does not sleep. I’m anxious to see if, come Wednesday, I’ll be relieved or already going through withdrawal.

Buon fine settimana tutti!

-Em

I’ve decided that my favorite time to walk around Florence is at dusk (I can’t say dark because then my grandma won’t sleep for the next year or so).  My classes finish at six so by the time I grab a caffe and then run some errands the sun has begun to set, the Florentines start heading home from work and most of the unsuffrable tourists are away eating at cheap pizzarias. The shops are more attractive and yet you buy less because you’re exhausted. The music from the street musicians doesn’t sound quite as desperate. And the waffle stand next to the chestnut vendor in the Piazza Nuovo make the air smell warm and sweet. It’s still about two months before I return to the states, but I think it’s this memory of the city I’m going to take home with me.

Anyway, the best way to enjoy this dusk is to grab aperitivi with some friends. The aperitivi trend started in Milan a couple of years ago and has slowly spread its way down the country. It’s to the point that most guidebooks now, for all the major cities, list the best 5-7 best places to find aperitivi in the city. So what does apertivi mean exactly? It basically means cocktails and buffet. For some, this is just appetizers. For us, it’s dinner.

From what my friends and I have come to learn is that there are four types of aperitivi.
1) Sunday brunch – €10-15 for a buffet filled with interesting eggs, mozzarella and rice dishes with bread, water and espresso. The only time we’ve ever tried this was in Rome and I think we all agreed that the higher price was bearable since there was no grease to be seen for miles.
2) Sidle up to a bar, buy a drink and nibble at the little chees plates – €7,  This is really not the way to go if you’re looking for a full meal, but it’s a good way to rendezvous before dinner. It’s also a cop-out for some restaurants to say they serve aperitivi so beware.
3) Grab a table, buy a cocktail and help yourself to a buffet - €6-11, This is what we did in Rome. We walked in circles four about 45 min looking for this place that Lonely Planet described as being full of “effortlessly beautiful people streaming out into the piazza”. Who wouldn’t want to go? Needless to say, Lonely Planet was correct and the people watching was glorious and the atmosphere warm and welcoming. However, because you pay for the cocktail and then get food, the quality, despite the French-Asian fusion, was a little lacking in quality.
4) Grab a table, say you want aperitivi then order a cocktail - €7-12, What’s the difference between this and #3? You’re paying for the food and the first drink comes free. It’s a subtle distinction but one that’s important because it means that the food will be better. There are a couple of places like this in central Florence, but last night my friends and I stopped at this place we’d seen once from the autobus, called Kitsch, before seeing the movie Vicky Cristina Barcelona that was by far the best we’ve had so far. The buffet was much more like a full dinner, but more flavorful, and much more Tuscan. (The drinks were also great).

In all cases, if you stay long enough by either a) eating enough or b) catching the eye of a guy sitting with a group of friends who want to know more about American girls who speak Italian, you won’t miss the dessert that replaces the pasta and prosciutto later in the night. Who could resist, really?

Other than exploring the many variations on aperitivi in the region, my life has been absolutely crazy for the past two weeks or so, filled with a whirlwind weekend in Rome (pictures hopefully coming soon), university classes and protests, Eurochocolate 2008 in the underground part of the city of Perugia (capital of Umbria), midterms, bus strikes, and one mean home cooked ossa buco (which literally means “bone with a hole”). Today, my art history class spent about four hours running about the city-like six little ducklings scurrying after our sideburned yellow corduroy wearing professor-exploring various churches and looking for paintings of saints and martyrs. (All topped off with a side trip to the best gelateria in the Santa Croce neighborhood of course.)

Anyway, it’s only 12 days until the election so go vote early or send in your absentee ballot NOW. I have every intention of finally filling out my ballot and sending it tomorrow and then pulling a Sarah Palin and going to buy some designer boots.