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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All three of you - I just love what you wrote in the comments to the last entry. Thank you for buoying me up so much!!

You guys are absolutely fantastic.

I was just getting ready to go this morning and feeling ambivalent and a bit worried and even frightened, sort of, and your messages made me feel all better.

I do think that I need to get this thing out of the way today and then let it go. I don't think I'll cycle with him on Thursday.

This morning I woke up feeling sad that I only have five more days in which to experience the art here! I feel as though I have squandered the last two.

OK. Starting over from now!

Yesterday, when I was leaving the church of the SS Annunziata, I saw the perfect Italian couple strolling. He (quite tall) looked like a businessman out on lunch. He was wearing an elegant tan suit. She was elegantly but femininely attired in a white shirt (sleeves rolled), a black accordian pleat knee-length skirt and fishnet stockings and sky high pumps. He had his arm tightly locked around her waist, pulling her close, and her hand seemed to be holding his other to the front, I think. Very Italian. Do you take lunches like that with your sweetie in the sun?

What the Italians do best, I have decided, is stroll. They stroll. They are so good at it. Their hips swing. Even the men swing their hips.

I had an encounter of another kind yesterday. A handsome Italian businessman - tall, in a beige suit, thick grey hair was crossing another piazza. I couldn't help but stare, as he made a striking picture with the giant red motorcycle helmet that he was carrying.

So as I was staring, I realized that he started to stare back. And then he crossed the piazza and looked back. And then he looked back again!

I was starting to get a little bit nervous, so I turned my body away. I mean, I am not a girl who would interest a middle-aged Italian businessman quite funny to experience though.

Do you know that Marco debated about going to a wedding in California last year because he didn't want to have to buy a suit. "Steffy, What am I going to do with a suit? But I am Italian and I have to wear a good suit to this wedding. I mean, I am Tuscan. They will expect it."

"Can't you just borrow one from one of your friends?"

"How can I put this. I am thin. My friends are not thin. Steffy, this is my office (spreading hands out to show Tuscany). My friends who work in offices don't stay in shape."

Soo...I know how things are going to go today. I am not going to be attracted to him anymore and I am going to be able to go home and forget about it. I need to be with a guy like this journalist dude, anyhow, if with anyone at all. Some guy to whom I can really relate, and with whom there is a possibility of having an actual relationship is the only thing that makes sense. No more imaginary boyfriends...

Yes! All clear!

From here on out will give you some more post cards of what I see of Italian life. Joan calls them Italian moments. She loved it when I told her that Marco said, "Steffy, for an Italian I don't think I am much to look at." I mean, would you say, "For a (insert country of origin) I am not much to look at"? What a scream, non?

OK. THanks so much for your comments yesterday you guys. You rock!

7:45 a.m. - 2009-05-19

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