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'm up. Will I make it to the shower in good time?

Hey dolls,

I feel so guilty for feeling sorry for myself yesterday.

No need.

I think I was simply spoiled in Italy. I received so much attention and was doing exactly what I wanted to do, every day. But that's vacation. Real life is always a little bit...er...less colourful.

I need to get a sense of humour here. I usually do have a sense of humour, but it doesn't come out here. Marco said to me, "You can think. But you can't think TOO MUCH."

And that's exactly it. I think too much. That makes me boring. Sometimes I can turn it off; other times I cannot.

So how was I spoiled last week, for example? Andrea took me to Rivoire in the most famous square in Florence (Piazza dell Signori@, with the sculpture garden). We sat there talking about Italian politics and media, in the sunshine, watching life pass by.

I never take pics of that square, but here's a pic of part of the sculpture garden:

The next day he took me to the cafe on the top of Rinascente, to which I had gone with Joan, and which has marvelous views. It was exactly like this, only with a cute guy and I have much better hair now. :):

And my fat head wasn't blocking the duomo:

Fun! In the evenings he took me to show me the Bardini Garden, up to Fiesole, and up to my favourite church (twice) to see the sunset. How could I not feel disappointed to be back here? I felt like a lady last week. (And he even made a point of saying to me, "I need you to know that I am not taking you out for a kiss. I respect you!" And he did!) Fun! (Where are the men like that here in Ottawa? Was he real?)

I love the fact that the Italians understand and don't shy away from sensuality. They make it normal and easy. Here, if a man's interested enough to ask you out he won't enjoy simply being in your company, visually, as well as otherwise (I mean, Andrea complimented my "socks," by which he meant stockings!)...he'll expect to have sex as soon as possible. Ugh. Really, I have had such bad experiences here.

I would be remiss, however, if I did not tell you my Marco story. When Marco and I had dinner last week, the topic of Burlusc0ni came up. For those of you who don't know, Burluscon! is more than questionable. He's, shall we say, questionable as far as some of his business dealings go. But more recently, in particular, the spotlight has been on his many, many, many sexual indiscretions. These have come up before, but recently he has been involved with showgirls and young girls...his wife asked for a divorce in one of the papers that he owns. So what Marco said was this: "I'm a Burlusconi supporter. It's not for us to judge what a man with that many responsibilities does. When he is finished working he wants the best, he doesn't want a 50 year-old woman." I mean, it's kind of hilarious when I write it out this way, but it's also particularly horrible. So I said to Marco, "You have a 19 year-old daughter. How would you feel if she were cavorting with someone like that?" And he said, "She is old enough to make up her own mind."

I must say that I'm pretty liberal in my thinking and so the second part would probably be my view as well (provided the woman in question is smart and confident). As for the first part, it was kind of a relief, you know? Marco disqualified himself completely (as if he hadn't before) for understanding loyalty and commitment and the fabulosity of women as they get older. :) Well, anyhow, I get it. Men and sex. Men are like 16 year-olds. All of that. It just doesn't matter that much. Marco is history. I'll always have a little, wee smile on my face when I think of him, but I can put that to bed. (I'm up, showered, and still haven't left the apartment for coffee. Can you tell? :))

So my goal for today is to go outside. So far I haven't even made it to the main street near my new apartment. I haven't done any grocery shopping there. I had intended to go out for coffee yesterday but I never even left the apartment. And then, in the evening, I showered and got dressed and thought I would go somewhere. Instead, I sat on the couch! No excuses today, though. If I want to have a life I am pretty sure that I am going to have to leave my apartment at some point.

Do love the apartment though. Especially once the walls are painted it will be wonderful. If only I could decide what colour! I must say that the yellow is not bad in the morning. I think it's because it absorbs light. It looks soft and subtle. At night...horrible lime-y green. Suggestions still welcome!!

Have a WONDERFUL day. XO!

Oh PS I gave C. the same advice that I need to give myself. What one has to do is do things. Make a list of things that need to be done, that you've put off for a long time...and start doing them one by one. Your self-esteem returns. And sure enough - and trust me, C. is the WORST procrastinator in the world - he was over the initial disappointment of that girl on Friday morning. Today he's off to visit an aunt in the country to whom he's been promising a visit for a year or so. Good, no?

If only I could get my own ass going into places in which I can meet people. I was at the office until 7:30 p.m. again on Thursday, I think, thinking, "I like working. I don't care that I'm not anywhere else." My boss actually emailed me to tell me to go home. I think I make him feel guilty. But I don't care what anyone else does. Oops. I wanted to get something done that needed to be done for Monday morning. Replacing a social life with work is not the strategy.

Love you guys. Thanks for your patience with my incoherent, self-indulgent entries.

8:37 a.m. - 2009-11-08

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