See Lola Run

An Italian-American citizen who is not very much of either but lives in Rome, anyway, and is not really sure where she's going next or if she's going at all.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Talk, talk, talk.

I've been waiting several days to have 'a talk' with Jac about a few things that have been bothering me. I managed to get most of them out in an hour long cell-phone conversation on Monday night that ended up costing me 10.00 euro and instead of trying to resolve anything then and there we decided it would be better to talk in person about it.

But that seems to be lost on us, as i've seen him twice since that conversation and it seems my worries have righted themselves just by virtue of me mentioning them.

To a mixture of math and circumstance I ended up at his place last night -- and we ended up having a really nice, connected, peaceful and pleasant evening together -- even though the pasta con pesto we made was disgusting and I had one of those "my head is about to explode into a million tiny pieces" headaches.

Sometimes just talking is a way of resolving.

Even if you've never reached a spoken resolution.

Today Jac is going to tell "Le labbra" (this is what we call the evil landlady because she has very obviously been taking collegen injections to her lips) that we cannot pay more than 900,00 and if she wants to give it to us for that we will take it.

We'll see. We're pretty "deciso".

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