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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Getting lucky, Italian widow style

I was thinking that "Italian widow" was the name of a soup, but it occurs to me now that that's Italian wedding

So have I mentioned that lately I have been sporting what I call Italian widow style on my way to and from work?

I really like heels, and I wear them at work, but I never walk anywhere in heels. Why ruin good heels?

I know, not very Italian of me. Although you would be surprised, as I was, in that in Florence the women generally wear flats on a day to day basis. Sure, some wear heels, but it seems that they have the same walking policy that I do. It's difficult to blame them, as the streets are stone and have lots of crevices in them. I know - I've ruined more than one pair of heels on them.

I know, that paragraph sort of self-contradicted, but you'll forgive me.

So it still isn't generally warm enough for me to go coatless or anything, and I don't actually own a proper trench coat, so lately I've stuck to wearing my properly-tailored Italian black wool short coat that I bought a year and a half ago. I love the coat, but paired with my black patent walking-shoe-Italian loafers and panty hose (not warm enough to go without)...I look like an Italian widow! I was thinking of buying some spring walking shoes, but although I want to support the Canadian economy and all I think it's dumb to buy shoes BEFORE I go to Italia. I shall wait.

So, Italian widow I am.

As for the getting lucky, well...

It's nothing exciting. I know I'm becoming all Secr3t-y and Opr@h on you lately, but I've been thinking about the article I read the other day about a book about being lucky. I decided that I would start to keep a "lucky" journal. It's a bit like keeping a gratitude journal, but it's more about random intrusions into daily life than about substantive things or friends and the like.

So today, my lucky journal looks like this:

1. Went to the bank at lunch and a woman in front of me with a giant baby chariot suggested that I go first as she "wasn't on a schedule and she knows what it's like to have limited time at lunch." I thought this was kind. I felt guilty, as I'd been secretly cursing her being a yupple and hauling a giant baby chariot with only a tiny baby in it into the bank. I know, I'm a pain in the ass.

But the point is that I learned my lesson for thinking mean thoughts, because said yuppie mummy was very nice. I wished her a great day.

2) There was a band playing in my office tower at lunch! I got back from the bank only to see a bunch of old guys with mostly brass instruments playing big band and swing and jazz tunes! It was awesome. I was grinning from ear to ear, as other people seemed mostly to be rushing by. I loved it! C. was a bit embarrassed when I started dancing to a version of Sweet Georgia Brown that had the feel of this one. But whatever. I pay my taxes. I can dance! (I don't like cake.) Did I ever mention that I am very good at the Charleston and also that I took jive dancing lessons once upon a time? The Charleston is my (secret) favourite thing that I ever learned in a physical education class. The First Surprising Rule of 1984 that I discovered was that you weren't supposed to be fourteen and loving the Charleston. (I also played the oboe, but apparently there was also an edict against that! "But it tunes the orchestra...") Ah well...

3) I contacted my favourite knitwear designer, from whom I recently bought a book, to find out from where I can buy the buttons in her books, and her assistant wrote to tell me that they were sending me an envelope full of beautiful, large mother-of-pearl buttons such as I put on the sweater I finished and showed you on Monday! For free!

Wow. Talk about serendipity and niceness.

And then I walked home and saw a cherry tree in bloom and then heard a cacophony of little birds who were screwing around in a giant bush. Loved it!

PS Oh ha ha! I read in the Artist's W@y today something to the effect of "Even if you can't move to Rome now, you can include something of that in your routine. Even in a grotty apartment you can have a capuccino and a croissant." I realized when I got home tonight that I'd bought a bottle of Chianti. I'd been looking at the capuccino at the coffee shop today, but I never buy capuccino in North America because it is too expensive! :) Funny, no? Wine. Ah sigh. Chacun � son go�t, as they say. :)

Don't you think that Andrea should just marry me already? I'm already prepared to outlive him! ;) Unforch, I am too old to pop out the Sicilian family that he wants. Sometimes, I almost think I could be a different person...but no. :)XO

7:18 p.m. - 2010-04-15

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