Femme on Fire

Il Latini (Last Night First)

In Florence there is a restaurant famed mostly for communal eating and more dead pigs hanging from the ceiling than you can shake a stick at. Tonight, our final night in Italy, we made this our choice for dinner and arrived extra early given the queue we had seen previously. As we waited, and people collected near the door, we made friends first with Tom (who also ran the marathon with APLA) and his partner, Charles, then Lauren from Virginia, and her parents, Holly and Tom, who currently live in Milan. After waiting together for 20 minutes in the cold, and after edging out the Italians who don't know the meaning of the word "queue" we decided the seven of us should dine together.

So, beneath entire pork thighs, hung in pairs with bone protruding, we shared a delightful evening. Plates of local specialties flowed almost as freely as the casks of table wine. Salamis, prosciutto, mozzarella with tomatoes, ravioli, penne, and a plate of so much meat we could have been at medieval times, followed by what seemed like the entire dessert tray, plus biscotti and dessert wine, plus Asti. PHEW. And when food and wine flow so freely, you know conversation is keeping the pace. Holly, my mother, and I talked about everything from weight in Milan (even lower than LA) to travel to shopping and especially TV (which they miss desperately in their new town), Tom and Charles also work in the industry and we know some of the same people, Lauren works as a faux finisher and does murals, Tom of Milan had a lot to say about American vs. European way of life. It was fun and a little raucous and entirely wonderful. Now, almost three hours later, I have to figure out how to pack everything purchased into my bag, so that we can come home in the morning.

Home! I am so excited. I've been homesick since we arrived in Venice almost a week ago, and being incredibly sore and a little ill since Sunday hasn't helped. Just two incredibly long flights and I can stop sleeping on wooden planks in a single bed. So long, Italia!

Italia!

Life has finally slowed down enough for me to realize, with excitement, that I'm leaving for Italy tomorrow!!! Mom and I fly to Florence tomorrow evening, arriving a day later, and spend a week galavanting about until I run the delightful Firenze Marathon on Sunday, the 26th. Then three days before we depart will be spent with a great deal of hobbling and whining. This will be my fourth marathon and my first trip to Italy. Yay!!! As a bonus, this is the first time that my mom will accompany me to a marathon, and the first time that my mom will get to meet my totally awesome coach, Monica, whom I have trained with for four years.

I can't wait to eat pasta, drink wine, and run my ass off. Although, it could be argued that I can do that in Venice, CA.

Art

I'm at an odd point in my career. On the one hand I'm getting the opportunity to do a lot of actual creative editing, some of which will hopefully find it's way to air. On the other hand I'm still filling up time with a lot of the more technical stuff. I have an aptitude for both, but the technical stuff is incredibly easy for me for two reasons, 1. I have been doing it for so long that I do it basically by rote, and 2. Not being creative doesn't require for me to engage in what I'm doing at all. And as much as being trapped in a technical job day after day, week after week, month after month would eventually kill my soul, doing it a bit at a time almost seems preferable to the creative.

The exhaustion I feel at the end of a creative day is blissful, but it makes turning off at the end of the work day a neccessity. I don't get anything at home done, don't spend quality time with friends, family, or my boyfriend, don't really have any fun at all outside of work. I am drained. This happens with the technical stuff, too, but usually only in the high stress situations that I have mostly left behind with my "assistant" title.

I think this has to do with the amount I am "giving" of myself all day. Because everytime I make a cut I hope it will lead to a job, I put so much of myself out there. My therapist used to talk about attachment being draining, but I haven't yet gotten to the point where I can cut something without being deeply attached to it. I don't feel like I'm molding little balls of clay when I shape something for people to watch- I feel like I'm chipping away at top of the line marble.

I know eventually I will become accustomed to this, or I will find a way to make the stakes seem less unnerving to me. I know that I should really start meditating again. Mainly I just wanted to put that out there so that I can look back at this in five years and chuckle at myself.

From Your Favorite Crazy Liberal

For six years I have ranted, raved, and frequently annoyed even my most liberal of friends. So those who think I've gone a bit too far may be surprised to read the following:

Democrats, you better bring it.

I have been making an ass of myself on your behalf for far too long for you to get in there and fumble the ball. I don't want to see any corruption. I don't want to see any blame placing. I just want to see plain, old fashioned policy making. The 2008 Presidential Elections, my ability to say I told you so, and, oh yeah, our nation's future are riding on you.

Don't F up.

Thanks.