enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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It IS fate, but call it ITALY if it pleases you, Vicar!

I wrote the following silly entry last night and then I woke up this morning and felt so super excited about Italy!! WHEEE!!

I'm so tired, otherwise. I should get to bed earlier. :)

Off to work...have a WONDERFUL day!

I came by to bug you with Shakespeare stuff earlier, and now I'm back because I just had a nap, awakened, and feel rather bored.

Being bored is a strange feeling. It's not something that regularly comes to me. I usually have a list about a mile long of things that I want to do!

In truth, I'm feeling sick and sniffly again. Enough of winter I say! Enough! A cold can make every activity seem less palatable. I was reading Edith Wharton again before I drifted off earlier, and that was nice.

Do you know I even went searching for a hotel for Florence in mid-May - just for one or two nights, this time, I really AM going to get my room with a view overlooking the Arno - and then I got bored of that. It seems too early. I can't make up my mind about when and where. I also wonder if instead I should go up to Venice once again to see it in decent weather and to stay in a palazzo overlooking a canal and sit in the window with the windows thrown wide open all through the night. Sigh. What a lovely thought, don't you think? Of course in the end, knowing me, I'll likely cheap out and simply stay at my hostel with the interesting owner and the Playboy posters on the walls of the pink bedroom. :)

Well, maybe not. And maybe not to Venice. Venice is a bit touristy for me; Florence is touristy but is a real, lived-in city and so possesses an ample dollop of grit. And then there is Roma...

Ah OK. I've refreshed my memory. I think I'll sit down to knit. What needs to happen in fact is for the winter to end so that the pink yarn that I am about to knit up and the lilac dress that I'm about to sew won't seem so...theatrical.

Oh how I do love Edith Wharton. I do wish that people spoke and thought with such audacious verbal acrobatics these days. How pleasurable this would be.

�Women should be free � as free as we are,� struck to the root of a problem that it was agreed in his world to regard as non-existent. �Nice� women, however wronged, would never claim the kind of freedom he meant, and generous-minded men like himself were therefore � in the heat of argument � the more chivalrously ready to concede it to them. Such verbal generosities were in fact only a humbugging disguise of the inexorable conventions that tied things together and bound people down to the old pattern.

8:58 a.m. - 2009-03-10

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