well good grief, "m", i dont think that it's a sad story without a happy ending. infact, i think it's just the opposite. how wonderful to have had such a beautiful romance, with nothing but passion and adventure and hopes, that does not end one day in a drift of boredom and cruel words and unrealised fantasies, but instead with love, and gratitude, and wonderful memories. and how brave of us, i think, to both aknowledge our fears of seperation and our grief of parting as a blessing of possibly the best kind. romance stories like these do not come along except by the whims of fate, and for that reason they are best kept untrifled with, as fate is fickle. i always knew he wasnt for keeps, as i recognized in even my most selfish moments that i did not invent love (as those in its new-found clutches often believe) and that if the lessons of the sultry dream-world which G. G. Marquez inhabits have taught me anything, it is to accept love affairs with a literary stoicism for what they are, leave them at that, and learn from them for future jaunts. because they all have their say, and the more the merrier. the best part is that i have no fear for the future; i have no doubts that this was just a taste of the adventures to come in my life, of the affairs to be had and filtered, not sponged. and besides, i'm 24. who in the world really wants to meet the man they are going to marry at 24? the world is huge and my oyster. or, as my saying-of-sadness went when i first thought him lost from my life (i.e. july), "there are plenty of blue-eyed fish in the mediterranean". as for FL and i, i will sum it up with our v. favorite mode di dire: "bravi! bravi! bravi!".

anyway. what kind of life am i living, i ask you, when the mere task of buying film takes over a week to accomplish? has been on my to-do list for like, 8 days. today when i finally held in my clutches a pack of 24exposure kodak ultramax, i felt like i had truly acomplished the near-impossible. as i detailed earlier, my morning routine takes hours to complete, regardless of how hard i try to speed it up. im fine with that now, except that the film store closes at 11:30, and reopens at 4, and these hours arent conducive to my down-town shopping-time window. by some freak chance FL's little brother diego came BURSTING through the door to our apartment this morning, singing a song about his lost extension cord (which he found in our closet), woke me with a shock from my coma, and set my heart racing to the point in which a red-hot rose-petal bath was the only way for me to regain physiological normalcy. when i finished my toiletè, i looked at the clock and realised that i was done a whole half-hour earlier than usual. "oh my god!", i exclaimed outloud, "it's 11:20! i can buy film!" i raced to the shop just in time, and now have the power to capture the beautiful changing of the leaves on the mountain vineyards forever.
reminds me of this night in rome, when i was talking to a boy from pittsburg, who had been living his life's dream of living in amsterdam. he'd been there for 8 months, and though at his departure he had made sure to tell everyone that he was never coming home, he was about ready to throw in the towel. "it really comes down to the fact that that i want to be able to buy my contact solution and my tomatoes in the same store. i think americans, in general, are too pragmatic for the european lifestyle". this tidbit stayed with me, and i always wondered if the inconvenience of european store hours would one day lose its charm and catch up with me, too.
is back to being pretty hot here, which is annoying. other than that...not much is going on. made ragù last night, and it took all of my self-control to not strangle FL when he flat-out refused to let me put mushrooms in it. he said the idea was absurd, and totally not italian, and that i had asked to learn the strict italian recipe, and he was happy to teach me and let me put as much pepperoncini as i like (only done in ragù down south, but he said he'd make an exception because he loves things spicy, too), but that he drew the line at mushrooms. grumbled and fumed and balked when he then insisted on putting carrots and celery into the mix. the end result, however, was astounding: it was, infact, ragù. real, italian, deliciously meaty, perfectly savory, splash-of-house-merloty, ragù. was so, so pleased. FL apologised for denying me my mushrooms, but said that he trusted his roots, and my taste buds, enough to stand storng against my wrath and await the final product, which he knew i would adore. ate 2 big helpings and went to bed clutching my tummy happily. also learned the recipe for carbonnara from a guy named gianni who owns a bar downtown, whom everyone says is the go-to-big-gutted guy for authentic and perfectly italian cuisine. can't wait to try. the motto, my friends, is: più simplice, più italiano.
so tonight i go to udine and chitchat with sweet dario for an hour about whatever and feel guilty for taking his money after such a lovely evening. tomorrow is Mortadella Party part due, friday is Pepperoncini Party part uno, and sabato is halloween! still not sure what we're gonna do, but i'm sure it''l be great.
e