I’ve been in Italy for just over two weeks now. I love it here and can’t wait to come back someday with Ben. Maybe even bring Carter and Shayna along. But school is rough. The courses aren’t hard, necessarily, as much as I feel out of place. For starters, I’m the only girl in the classes, which is fine. I tend to relate to guys much better, but these guys are different. There are three of them, and their senses of humor are severely lacking. One of them, John Paul, he’s from the United States, too, he says “ci, ci!” no less than one hundred times per class, and I’m pretty convinced that that phrase doesn’t mean what he thinks it means. None of it is bad, it’s just not comfortable. I’m much more content in Amalea’s kitchen, helping her bake or clean, or just watching her conjure up these delicious meals all from recipes passed down to her from her family, never a written recipe in sight. The kitchen is exactly where I find her now, stretching a large piece of dough out onto her simple, wooden counter top.
What do You think about Beautiful Things Never Last?
