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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I've gone a little bit olive oil crazy. I have purchased two bottles of wine and five bottles of olive oil. Given two leather jackets, a purse and two scarves...I'm thinking that I'm goign to have to start drinking, bathing in olive oil, an

Oh my friends my friends, you don't even want to know how much I've had to drink on this trip. My poor liver is doing back flips.

I mean, it doesn't take much to get me hammered. But every day red wine with lunch and Vin Santo (sweet wine with biscotti) to finish? OY!

I do like to drink, I'll admit it.

The odd thing is taht I have been *losing* weight on this trip. I attribute this I suppose to the walking and biking, and the fact that I have been eating pretty simply and not snacking. Every night I get a platter of contorni (grilled veggies with olive oil) and then a secondi of some sort of risotto or meat. Today I had the most awesome Italian version of creme brulee I have ever tasted. Oh la la la la la la.

I have to admit though that the pasta from yesterday has caused me pain. I should not be eating wheat. I feel a bit like barfing today. And of course I am bloated and sore in the abdomen. So I was quite stupid.

But that little old lady with the moustache on the top of the hill in that little cafe wanted me to try her "pici" (wide pasta like spaghetti that is native to chianti - made only with flour and water, if you can believe it (no eggs)). She made the sauce on it with the artichokes from her own garden. It was beautiful.

It sounds like overkill, but I had a carpaccio of artichoke for a starter prior to that, topped delicately with of course olive oil and a sprinkling of medium pecorino.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Honestly, if the country actually ran at all, I'd consider trying to find someone to marry me here. What a place. I think that I will be coming back to Italy many many times. In fact, I think that next year I will arrange for Marco to take me on a multi-day bike tour. Maybe to Sicily. Maybe to Sardinia. He does those. He does a tour from Florence to Rome. His tours are not bad for biking really, with a max of 90km a day. In other words, they are certainly not like my Ottawa Maine trip, i.e. for ironpeople. Soooooo...........if anyone wants to join me.....let me know! :) I think I will see if my friend A. in Ottawa is keen.

I've been thinking about so many things lately. This morning was the Australian's last morning. He insisted on coming with me to Santa Croce. Unfortunately SC was not open that early in the morning - how lovely though to be in that square sans tourists - so I decided to walk over to San Mineato al Monte. I must be honest that the guy was annoying me this morning. I felt so badly. He's such a lovely guy and not unintelligent. On the other hand he is not very intelligent either. So some of his misunderstandings and verbal ticks really got on my nerves.

No, really, what got on my nerves is that he was so eager to please - like a little dog. I actually told him two nights before in this long conversation that we had with the HOTTT young Polish dude in which the Polish dude had asked us both what we would tell our younger selves if we could, that he comes across as perhaps not having as much independence as he could do. I mean, I know that that is not very nice of me. But there is nothing less attractive than a clingy man. He kept on telling me - I think part of his sales pitch - that he is a super-affectionate person and a very attentive lover. GAG.

I know, I'm not a nice person. Really, I don't like tender men. I mean, I like men who are tender when they have to be. But I don't like an all-over-me-I-can't-let-go-of-you type. And I can't stand people who are drooling all over me kissing and fondling me all the time, especially in public. I mean, give me my space for sashaying, non? ;)

I'm just kidding. I'm a weird person, I suppose. I'm very affectionate but I draw the line at clingy. Clingy is ugly. Oh so ugly. And I really don't like PDAs.

So, curmudgeon I am.

Where was I going with this? Well the Australian was yammering away and continued to do so in SAN MINEATO AL MONT3.

SMAM is probably my favourite church ever. I don't know why. But there's something about its cool stone solidity, it's 13th century frescos, its position on the hill overlooking the city. I just love it to pieces. Really, I love it. Even the faceless J3sus gets my vote.

I suppose I should get out more.

So when the Australian kept on standing too close to me and yammering in my ear when I was trying to *feel* the church, I was getting annoyed.

But then I parted with the dear fellow on my way down the hill - for the last time - and he handed me this beautiful card that he had written for my birthday, complete with a Yeats poem. Points. Points.

And it got me thinking that I am a horrible person. I hold men to such an exacting standard that no man is ever going to be good enough for me in my stinky little heart.

It's like with the Americans yesterday -I'm a freakish obsessive compulsive in search of perfectione!!

ACK. I just don't know. I'm constantly realizing my monstrous shortcomings.

Oh and add to the shortcomings a little brown jacket and a GORGEOUS red leather handbag that I bought on my way home from my cooking course. I know. It's just wrong. Next I'm going to buy myself an SUV and start running over refugees on Ottawa streets by accident and all of my pretensions of being a good and thoughtful person will go out the window.

So whatever. I'm going to take fifi's stance for now and assume that since I'm sometimes funny I'm offering something compensatory to the world.

I was breaking up my guide in the last couple of days since I wouldn't let him live down the fact that I understood that the guy at the second winery on the tour was teasing him for drinking wine out of a box. And then yesterday when I asked a question about the history of the region and the guide was trying to bs through it we discerned that he was forever "more of an *action* guy than a history guy." We were cracking up all day.

Ah sigh. I'm rambling as usual. So, problem: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO FOR MY BIRTHDAY TOMORROW!!

I had forgotten that it will be my birthday until the Australian dude handed me a card. I mean, WHAT do I do? I'm afraid that just thinking about it is making me feel a little bit lonely. You'd think I could entertain myself. I must find something. It seems a little bit morose to go to Santa Croce to look at tombs by myself on such a day. Hmm...So if you have any suggestions or admonitions for my bad attitude and bad behaviour, please do offer any! :)

You're all very special and I wish you all very happy.

5:22 p.m. - 2008-05-12

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