Rome if You Want To

So we have already established that this is a weird vacation.

 I have a terrible cold. If you had told me, two weeks ago, that the main attraction in Italia would be the Appian Wall of Phleghm, I would have taken a pass. Imagine me trying to form a simple Italian sentence in my brain from the few words Ive learned in Fabulo...then the waitress answers me and I cannot make out her words since my ears are so clogged. I shake my head to clear them and she realizes I am actually an idiot and just shoves something at me while making hand motions, glancing around for someone who can speak whatever my native language might be (generic European and-or American white person).

But the good news is, I have a terrible cold...in Italy.

On Saturday I slept until noon and Alexa bustled me, dazed, onto the Metro. I emerged in another time and place. Cobbled streets, graceful buildings, street signs and cars that look like toys, nude statues and fountains in the traffic circles. Sun piercing through clouds, sidewalks wet with rain, manhole covers stamped SPQR.

I walked up the Via Venetto, a winding street filled with elegant hotels and restaurants, to the Borghese Gallery, where a preponderance of masterpieces overwhelmed me. I mean, where does one begin? I missed Jenny terribly, since this is exactly what we had planned to do together. But took some pictures to send her, one of which was incredibly weird. And I didnt catch the name.

On the way back home the phone Alexa had provided me with didnt work, (@#$%^ Mercury), so I bummed some WiFi from the Hard Rock Cafe to send a message to her, but my tablet was almost out of juice (@#$%^ Mercury). And just as she was reading it, her car battery died (@#$%^ Mercury). I decided to get some dinner and wait out the drama in the comfort of Rock and Roll. So there I was on my first night out in Italy, eating a plate of nachos. On the video screen, the B-52s: Roam if you want to, roam around the world, without wings, without wheels.

Yes, that seems to be a platter of boobies

The next day I got this letter from Jenny. Its as if she had been there with me.

God I'm green with envy, can't deny it. That's the museum with the Caravaggios and Apollo and Daphne, right? I can't look at a Laurel without thinking of her escape... 

She went on to tell me the news I needed to hear.

Things are okay here. The surgery turned out to be more involved than it seemed - deeper and a bigger tangle - but was a success. The first couple of days post-op were pretty painful but getting better. They only shaved a little of my hair so that's good.  :)

I mean, thank GOD about her HAIR! She is a Leo, after all....

Im hoping, when she reads this, she`ll roam. Without wings or wheels...

My Vacation vs. Mercury

I'd laughed at Alexa's FB post.

My first full day in Italy is coming to an end. By the time I put my head down last night, I had completely forgotten how to sleep, so the day started late. I was in pajamas until about 4pm... but in my defense I spent the day doing some vacation repair.

First, I had to re-plan my Itinerary. What might have taken two hours on my big home computer took four here, since Italian websites are much friskier than Im used to. And everything went wrong and I had to enter my information three, four, nine times. #@$%&! Mercury!

There was ravioli in that bowl a minute ago!

I am also now carrying a few bricks in my suitcase. My phone, which was supposed to be text-able, does nothing. In my anguish, leaving, I forgot the camera battery re-charger, and brought the wrong charger for my laptop. This last brainfart means I cant get any work done and blogging more than short lists was out of the question. But my wonderful host, Fabio, took care of me. He found a new charger for only $120. After much swearing (at Mercury, natch), we found a better solution...I am typing this on a tiny bluetooth keyboard on my tablet!

This being Italy, some of the keys are in the wrong place. And for the life of me I cant find the apostrophe key. So anytime you want to correct my spelling...well, just blame #@$%& Mercury.

So far, the best part of Italy is the Montani family. Specifically, my dear friend Alexa, her 7 year old amazing daughter Eloisa, and the reason they are both Italians: Fabio. (A name that sounds best when you are sighing while you say it.) Fabio, an every-generation Italian, cooked for 5 or 6 hours today. Kale fritatta for lunch. Homemade spinach ravioli for dinner. Between times, some coffee sprinkled on ricotta cheese. And after dinner, liqueurs made  by his mother. (Limoncello cream last night. Tonight, medicinal Mirto.) There was also a kale pie in there somewhere! I told him this dinner was blog-worthy! Bravo, *sigh* Fabio!

Yes, that is a cartoon fart on
the back of those pants.

When travelers think of Italy, they think of the castles and villas, the design and the art, the food and the beauty. But then theres the shopping malls. When we finally got out of the house today, we hit Alexas favorite Eurotrash store, where copyrights are freely infringed and designs make no sense...expressively!

<<<These are some things we did not buy...

We were out at the mall around the exact time Jenny was in surgery back home. I bought her a badass Italian Fashion Hat to wear while recovering... soft and fuzzy on the inside... but....dont touch! When we got back to the WiFi there was this note from her sister:

Jenny's surgery went perfectly and she's back in her room, groggy and a little confused. She thinks it's 1999! She's talking and has got all her hair. The incision is tiny. I almost burst into tears with relief when I saw her and one of the first things she did is ask me to let you know.

So, I will be buying a lot of souvenirs for Jenny, as you can imagine. If anyone would like me to get her something from you, Paypal me and include instructions!

Now I have to go try to get those train tickets again. I may be fighting with the internets, but at least Im fighting with the internets IN ITALY!

10 things

1. I am exhausted.
2. I cried when the plane took off.
3. I brought the wrong charger. 
4. I have 20 minutes of laptop battery and 3 hours of work to do.
5. The plane is ginormous.
6. They just brought me a warm wet napkin to wash up for essen.
7. I'm having wine with dinner.
8. I love Lufthansa.
9. Jenny will need surgery to repair that renegade vein. 
10. Please send good thoughts and love and prayers to Jenny's brain.

Italy vs. Jenny's Brain

I am about to board the flight to Europe. But I am going alone.

When I called her during the Superbowl, to remind her to weigh herself before we left, she told me something weird was happening with her vision. Everyone's right eye looked like it was washed out.

"Well, that's an interesting thing to happen to an artist who's about to go to paradise," I said.

A few hours later she called me from the emergency room.

"Darn my doctor," she said. "She wanted me to get it checked out. But nothing, nothing, nothing will keep me from getting on that plane tomorrow!"

An hour later, she called again. "I have to go in an ambulance," she said. "There's something wrong with my brain. The whole left side of my field of vision is color blind. I'm not allowed to go to Italy."

I didn't know what to do.

The next morning, "Pompeii" played on the radio: How'm I gonna be an optimist about this?

We both had trip insurance. I called to cancel Jenny's flight for her.

Jenny texted me: "What are you going to do?" I honestly didn't know. I wanted to be with Jenny. I wanted to take our trip. I talked to my husband and son. I talked to my friend in Rome. I talked to my parents. I still didn't know. I threw my iChing. It wasn't very helpful; I got 22. Pi / Grace. With no changing lines.

Grace has success. In small matters, it is favorable to undertake something.

Thanks oracle, but THIS IS NOT A SMALL MATTER!!!

I texted back: "I am going to come and see you."

On Monday at 2:40, when Jenny and I were scheduled to leave, I was driving across the Bay Bridge to  the UCSF Medical Center to visit her in the ICU. In the waiting room, people were talking about taking Vaporettos in Venice. I wanted to throw something at them.

Jenny greeted me with a big smile, squinting her eyes against the painful light. She couldn't stand up without collapsing from pain, and medicine dripped into her wrists.

"I am so mad at my brain," she said.

"Thank God this happened last night and not when we were on the plane tonight," we both agreed.

"We'll just have to try again in the spring," she said.

But the tests had been inconclusive. It could be a tiny leak, it could be a flaw in the blood vessel design,  brain tumor. It would be days before we knew, and if she had surgery, it could be many long months before she could travel again.

The visit with her was delicious—she craved oranges and I rubbed her sore head and we held hands—and we talked and talked.  She gave me her blessing to go without her—but the next morning I was still undecided. I didn't know what the right thing to do was. I was filled with fear—fear of leaving her, fear of going alone—but Jenny helped make it clear.

"I, apparently, need to be here with tubes in my groin," she said. "What do you need to do?"

I needed to go. I had moved heaven and earth to extricate myself from my busy, overcommitted, hyperactive life. And so did so many people. Especially Jenny, who gave me the courage to buy the ticket, to put it on the calendar. I was packed. And especially my son, who didn't want me to give up on my dream. I had to show him that a person could cry her eyes out, bang on the floor, then make a decision and act on it. We are Can-Do-Cavens.

It's what they're wearing in Milan.

Tuesday, when I went to see Jenny again, she was doing much better. We could take a walk around the ICU. She had survived the MRI and the good news was there was no tumor, no cancer.

"So what are you going to do, Kristen?"

I told her I was thinking about turning the trip around: I could fly into Rome and out of Venice, taking the train and bypassing Assisi and Florence. "I'll save those for you."

I told her how scared I was about traveling alone. "You'll be in Venice for Carnevale, now" she said. "You have to go to a party. Bring me back some good stories." I said I didn't want to go alone. "I'll pay for your ticket," she said. I laughed. She had already gotten me off my dime. I told her I would go into every church I passed and light a candle for her.

"What about our story?" I asked. "Should I blog about this?"

"Tell it all," she said.

When I left the hospital, the full moon was rising. The Leo moon. It was the moon that was to greet us on our arrival in Venice, right about now. Kristen and Jenny are still going to Italy. It's just that I'm traveling for two now.

Mambo Italiano

Planning for an adventure is an adventure in itself. Extricating oneself from life is a little trickier. The past few weeks have included...

Fabulo. This is the greatest little app for learning Italian. I was hoping to be farther along in my language studies, but I'm pretty fluent, currently, in phrases like, "Mi bicicleta é blu," "Abbiamo bisogno di parlare," and "Mi piace la macchina rossa."

Body by Melisa. Jenny has been coming to Oakland on a regular basis to enjoy the caring ministrations of my web client Melisa. After each spa visit, she would meet me at Underwood or Homeroom, hot new spots in Oakland's up n' coming hipster "Jewel Box" neighborhood. Here we are at Melisa's retirement party. (At which I got all excited about Isagenix.)

The Impact Hub. When we talked about what we wanted to do in Italy, meeting interesting people came up a lot. How do you do that?  I realized I am a member of an international organization, so I hosted a "Pencil Party" at my co-working space to write letters to friends at the Impact Hub in Rome. Using my Google Translate app, I managed to communicate with the staff there to schedule another Pencil Party (Festa di Matita) when we are there.

Zumba. I teach a class to high school students once a week, and you never know what music they're going to like. Since it's the school's centennial year, I've been doing songs from different decades. We're up to the 1950s, and in my excitement I had had had to do Mambo Italiano! (Fortunately, the kids loved it.) I will miss them... and the start of a new gig... but it will be worth it!

PTSA. The hardest part was extricating myself from the workings of the PTSA, of which I am president, a huge commitment. This is the week that the board decides how to spend about $50,000, which requires late nights with extra reading, a very long meeting, and a lot of extra correspondence and administration. And yet, this wonderful group of dedicated volunteers has been so incredibly supportive of letting me go. "You need to take care of yourself," they say, to a one. My VP has even agreed to wear something appropriate to continue my performance art of dressing in a different decade at each meeting. THANK YOU ALL!

Shopping. We're staying with Alexa in Rome, and all she asks is we bring some candy corn. And Cadbury Eggs. And a bag of goodies from her mom. And... I had to borrow a big suitcase to fit it all! But it's a little like packing empty space. Since the dollar is strong, I plan to do some shopping... And speaking of, that last trip to Trader Joe's to stock up for the guys while I'm gone was fun... I got them all Italian foods. Chicken Parmagiana. Lasagne. Spaghetti with Bolognese sauce. Pounds of Salami. Provolone. It's the least I can do.

"Should have passed to Marshawn Lynch #Beastmode"

Packing. It's going to be cold, but I can't decide which three coats to take. Still, I borrowed two suitcases and a scale, and I think I've thought of everything! Oh, and...

Superbowl. Oh, and there's some football game on? I decided to make Italian food (baked ziti, gorgonzola kale) for the gang on my last day here. We were rooting for Marshawn - I mean the Sea Hawks, because not only do they carry the Broncos Juju, but because Donald programmed the marquee .... What a crazy turn of events in the last few seconds of the game!

Imagine Italia!

Vacations are great because you can enjoy them three ways: before, during, and after. The pleasure of planning and anticipation is my favorite: when everything is possible!

I love that you can pin places to a map and save them to Google Maps!  Over the last few weeks, Jenny and I have been drawing lines and pictures and filling up the map of Italy with dots we'd like to see. Special marks for fairytale places. Stars for hotels we've booked. Jenny is kind of bossy, but I'm happy for her to take the lead. She says since it's my birthday trip, I get to win any disagreements automatically. Awesome!

The incredibly inexpensive package we found in November provided a few nights in Venice and Florence hotels before staying with Alexa in Rome. Jenny booked us a few nights in an AirBnB farmhouse in Emiglio-Regianno, the province where every other town is named after a food (or the other way around)— with the plan to lay down our first few pounds after Venice. She got membership to Florence or something so we can go to all the museums. We wanted to stay in a monastery or a castle, too... and she found one that's the best of both worlds in Assisi. After months of dreaming, we finally have an itinerary. And some ideas on what to pack...

When you travel to Italy, everyone but everyone is excited for you and has advice and ideas! We have a list a mile long of all the places to visit! You probably have advice for us, too!

Traveling Sister

Jenny and I met the first day of college. Our eyes locked, and the same thought went through our heads: "That girl could be my sister!" Our mothers thought so, too. So on this trip, we're just going to go ahead and pretend we are, and drive the Italian men crazy by tossing our blonde curls.

Jenny is a world-class beauty, one of those Daisy Buchannan-types who slays with her eyes, who men swoon for and women get jealous of. I do not, because I know the truth about her: she is also the world's second biggest geek. (I am the first, of course.) She is also very generous in sharing her beauty tips. She is so generous, in fact, that she is actually bringing along all the beauty products, so we have more room in our suitcases to fill with smuggled stinky cheeses.

When Jenny had her Nth birthday, she had invited me to go to Thailand with her and some girlfriends and ride elephants. I couldn't make it happen, but when I saw a package tour appear in my email (I'd entered for a free trip to Italy and got on a mailing list), I popped the question. She jumped at the chance! She's that kind of adventurous, citizen-of-the-world kind of gal, unafraid of travel. Just the sort of person I need to drag me away from my lovely ruts. 

Jenny and I love to hike. We share a passion for natural beauty. As a matter of fact, when we are alone in the wilderness, we have been known to stand at a sunset or a dewy meadow, throw our arms open, and shout "BEAUTY" in the most rapturous tones. We are also both artists; I am happiest with a pencil, but she studies classical realism in a school where it has been taught the same way for 400 years. She has spent the last eleven or so months painting an egg. (It's a really amazing egg, though.) So I'm a little worried when we get to those art museums we might lose ourselves in the moment...

We met at HomeRoom for mac & cheese to plan and scheme. Where the world's most beautiful waitress served us every week and colluded in our adventure.

"You know how, in Eat, Pray, Love, and all those other books, women go to Italy to put their lives back together?" I said at our first brainstorming meeting, "Let's go and have a delicious time because there is nothing wrong, because we are well."

"Let's make it our plan," she said, "to stuff our eyes with art, and our bodies with good food. Let's gain ten pounds."

"It's a deal," I said, "Ten Pounds in Ten Days!"