Italy Day 11

Wednesday is such a weird day in Italy. You don’t know if you want to go out or if you want to stay in. You don’t really have a clue where the rest of the week is going, but you just make do.

Today I made about 90 different schedules to get my assignments for work complete but it still didn’t get the work done any faster. But I did learn to finally pack my lunch; however, when I tried to buy fruit at the supermarket, that didn’t go so smoothly.

I also have been upping my head-wrap game and the Italians have certainly been noticing and I appreciate it. I went to my Italian lesson class and I finally got an Italian phone which was not by my own choice. It was the work of all adults in charge of my life in Italy that forced me to do it. (35 bucks for a damn Italian phone that looks like a Nokia from 1992 and it don’t even got snake. -___-)

After buying the cellphone I came home to make some pasta but then life got real. All I will say is, move in peace and count your blessings. But I will say this one thing also, when someone goes super sayian, you get out of dodge!

My Day:

  • I went to work only to discover I wanted to buy fruit and couldn’t because the fruit police said I have to weight fruit before I can buy. Yeah, it’s not like Wally World where the scale is at the register.
  • I went to buy an Italian cellphone, and I did. It’s still a brick, and yes, the Italians did laugh at it.
  • I tried to speak Italian to one of the shop owners, and he was very patient.
  • A woman on the train stopped me to tell me she thought I was very beautiful. :’) She restored my faith in Italian women. They actually know how to be kind.
  • When I got home life took a turn for the worst. I will not go into details because that would make me compromise my Christianity by gossiping. (Like I haven’t be swearing up a storm on this blog. Lord forgive me.)
  • I made some more Ragu pasta, and I’m about to hit these sheets.

What I Learned Today:

  • You must weigh your fruit and use a glove to pick it up. Or else the clerk can’t scan it and allow you to pay for it. It was really awkward when I tried to get that pear and got shut down cause I didn’t weigh it and get the bar code sticker. Then the clerk just stared at me and all I could think of was…

  • Italians don’t complete construction on time. Our balcony is getting remodeled and they told us 2 weeks. 2 Weeks Italian time= 2 months. I guess “F**k It” mentality does work.

  • The Green and Red metro trains are always the most crowded. And the trains are old as hell too. 1980’s, I think yes!

  • People here really like the grunge rocker type of look, meets 80’s Flashdance, and a flare of 90’s. I don’t know what to make of fashion anymore, but I’m at a complete loss.

  • Black rice is a real thing. And yes, it grows that way. Just kidding, it’s dyed.

  • Everyone is anxious and excited about the World Cup. But I’m still just like…

  • Italians are chain smokers and espresso junkies. Coffee and a smoke is almost as stapled here as gelato. We are slowly becoming gelato junkies, so we must ward off the cigs and caffeine

  • Americans are foreign. We stick out like sore thumbs. But Italians appreciate and love to see us anyways… but only when we have absolutely no affiliation with the show Jersey Shore. Or they are a girl who doesn’t have a boyfriend. Cause if so, this is the only look we get.

  • Everyone is a fan of bikes. Women ride bikes (motorcycles and bicycles) in heels, with babies, with their boyfriends, and probably their dogs. Men ride bikes in suits. Everyone just loves bikes here.

  • Gelato solves problems.

Girls, Girls, Ragazzi.

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