A Roman Thanksgiving

Last night I ate Turkey. Special order Turkey, from a macelleria. Whole turkeys don’t exist in Italy unless you special order them. Nor does cranberry sauce, unless you buy it at an international grocery store, for an obscene price. Tomorrow afternoon I have an audition to be in an Italian film. A real film with famous Italian actors. I am going to be awake tonight until 2AM waiting for my sister to get out of work. When she gets out of work we will go for a cappuccino with our carabinieri “ragazzi” (boys). How did I get here? Where am I going?

And do I care?

I barely know what to say, and there are so many ways I can put life in this city into words--- that I can’t settle. Weeks are passing. I’m not writing, I’m not sharing. But, by God I am living. I am getting out. I am having conversations. I’m not taking pictures--- I’m taking mental snapshots. I’m learning my neighborhood. I’m decreasing the need for a 10-fold map. I’m decreasing the need for an Italian dictionary. Really, I don’t even own one.

I’m in love with how I am living my life right now, and I’m damn happy. This is what I dreamt. It’s more than that. And it grows every day. I’m still the optimist, forever hopefully, never defeated. Spain was rough. Italy is a spinning, twirling, whirling ride--- and I’ll let you know if I manage to keep lunch down once I step off.

But for now all is well.

Jess and I found a very central room, in a crumbling Palazzo in central Rome. The walls are full of rips exposing the fading brick foundations. The busses passing at night make the entire building shudder. Pieces of the wall next to our fridge end up suspiciously in uneven piles on the floor. The floors are made of a yellowing white marble and the ceilings are high. There is little/no water pressure. Let’s not discuss hot water. We love it. I exit my medievalish wooden and metal door walk 20 feet. I look left, I’m looking at the Wedding Cake of Rome. It hits me in the same way NYC used to hit me. From what I hear not many people are getting the breath kicked out of them nowadays.

It’s a shame. I’m still gasping.