Il primo post-o

Voila! (perhaps it would be more fitting to start with an Italian word rather than a French one. Eh, the moment has passed). I have created a blog. In actuality I already had a blog (a xanga) but I did not want to continue adding on to that one because it's about 6 years old and therefore it is chock full of angsty embarrassing posts from my teenage years. Ha! Whadaya know, I can look back on my "teenage years" now. Anyways I guess that means I want this one to be less embarrassing, because I want to share it with more people. Already I know this won't work out that well because I have realized that awkward follows me everywhere. Even in Italy, which is where I am now, living in Florence for my junior year abroad. Ironically there is no word for "awkward" in Italian. And apparently Italians also don't have an equivalent for "oops." I guess everyone is just that well put-together. Hah. I shall provide you with an example of how I cannot escape awkwardness, to kick things off.
So there's this market that Giovanna and Monica (the incredible directors of the Smith program) told us about one of the first days so we could know where to get lunch supplies if we so desired. One fine day (it was 80 and sunny with birds a-chirping every single day up until last week when suddenly it became the Arctic Tundra) Camilla (my dear housemate) and I decided to go to said market because we were craving fine produce. The market is very cute and Italian and overflowing with every type of colorful fruit and vegetable you could name. I wanted a Valencia orange. A simple task. I picked one and waited awkwardly until the man behind the mounds of fruit realized I wanted to buy it. I gave him the orange. He gave me a plastic bag, which I guess I should have done beforehand. I put the orange in the bag. He reached over and pointed at something and I was confused. After some awkward seconds I realized he wanted the bag, so I gave him the bag. He weighed the orange and said "20 cents." I fished around in my wallet while he helped another customer and bustled around...Then he showed me a 20 cent coin. I thought this was his way of saying "I've got you covered" so I very slowly and hesitantly walked away. Awkardly. And then I heard him calling "cara" (dear) and "20 cents!" for the whole market to hear. So Camilla gave me 20 cents because I hadn't managed to find one stinking 20 cent coin among the several thousand in my wallet. I handed it to a woman behind the same counter who looked more sympathetic to my stupidity, said "scusa," and walked away. Yay!
There, now that that's out of the way I swear to you and myself that I will not embarrass myself in this blog. I will write nice things about the nice things I am doing in Italy. Nice things like, for instance, how THE HEAT. HAS FINALLY. TURNED ON!!!!! For those of you who don't know, Italy (and maybe most of Europe) doesn't turn on indoor heating for a good long time. Maybe never. Since the temperature plummeted last week I have been excruciatingly cold in my room. You can feel the cold air seeping through your pants. Every object in my room is cold to the touch. I am constantly sitting on my feet and stuffing my hands under my sleeves. Last night I was wearing 4 layers, 2 pairs of socks and slippers, a hat, and a scarf. And a blanket and a tablecloth. At my desk. I truly felt close to death. And not all that motivated to read 22 pages in Italian with size 3 font. When I came to dinner in a jacket one night our host mother's friend (or maybe more....? tehehe) said "there are penguins in Allison's room." I said "si." I know how to say things like "yes" and "I like" and "I don't like" and "good!" and "thanks." At least these are the things that don't take me 5 minutes to construct in my head before I say them and so for now I mostly just stick to them. Anyways, once you get under the covers it's not as unbearably freezing, but you can still feel the icy air on your nose or wherever else the blankets don't protect. Getting out of bed to take a shower was TORTUROUS this morning. So perhaps now you understand that when Camilla informed me just now that the heat was on in the bathroom, and I consequently checked my own heater by placing a hand on it and felt WARMTH....I was euphoric. I'm not even wearing a blanket right now :).
I admit one of the reasons I created this blog was because I am seriously procrastinating. I have to read for two classes, History of Fashion (pretty sweet) and Stilistica (stylistics?). I'm also taking art history and survey of Italian literature. This week we all had to meet with Giovanna to discuss what class we'd like to audit at the University of Florence. Ahhhh. I might take a music class just because they never freaking fit into my schedule at Smith and my piano teacher would be proud. Did I mention my host family has a piano and that's one of the reasons why Giovanna placed me with them? No I didn't. But yes the piano is awkwardly located in the boys' bedroom so I feel extremely hesitant about going in and playing. Also clearly everyone in the apartment can hear me. The boys are 11 year old twins, Matteo and Lorenzo. They are adorable. But not when they are yelling at each other and their mom in the morning when I am trying to sleep and conserve my body's natural healthy internal temperature. They like Michael Jackson. Donata (the mom) admitted to being in mourning for 3 weeks after he died. They also like "Barbie Girl," which Matteo was playing on his phone this morning. I didn't have the heart (or Italian skills) to tell him what the song is about. Alright I really should do homework now but I promise another post in the near future. Arrivederci!