Though no water flows here, the memory stays

Fragments of letters. 5

It had been years since I slept in my mother’s bedroom. My english housemate of last year, Amey, came visit for a few days. She arrived last Tuesday and left yesterday. She slept a lot and we didn’t do much, but she said she enjoyed her time here. She wanted to swim and even if the weather has not be beautiful we managed a couple of hours at the beach. When I walked bare feet on the little rocks that we have instead of sand, when I let the cold water touch me, I tried to remember the last time I entered the sea, but I couldn’t.
I gave Amey my bedroom so I slept with my mother. And Frida. I have a lot of memories of that bed. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I wonder if my mother could hear the noises in my head.

And that’s pretty much it. I don’t have much else to say. I keep waiting for an email that it’s doesn’t came and the days are passing without me noticing at all. 
I am reading a lot and I bought a ticket for a Belle and Sebastian concert in Ancona near here. I’ll go by myself.

The wind is giving me pleasing goosebumps and the golden light of the sunset is the prettiest thing I've seen in quite some time. I drive around and keep imagining you visiting.

Caroline Calloway

Binge-watching is something I'm really good at. Ask my last nights. And no, I'm not talking exclusively about Orange is the new black (I need some time to process it, as usual).
This Monday I want to talk you about the Instagram Blog that few evenings ago didn't let me go to sleep. I swear. It told me: You cannot stop reading until you reach the end.
Maybe you have eared of Caroline Calloway and her Instagram. Set a year in the past, Caroline does not only shows us photos of her adventures in Cambridge, where she moved from New York to study Art History, but she is also writing her own honest and hilarious memoir.
Here the first photos of the story, so that you can see with your own eyes how it is. It will be totally worth it, I promise.

Yes, Instagram. That’s right. Raise your hand if you have ever taken a selfie of yourself crying. On a plane. With strangers. What’s that you say? Just me? Well I’m proud and a little jealous because this? This right here? THIS IS A TERRIBLE AND CRAZY THING TO DO. Professional travel blogger tip Number 1: Don’t be the crazy selfie-girl that can’t stop weeping. Sure it may feel like the only responsible and respectful way to break up in this day and age. But that’s because you’re 22 and dumber than rocks. Actual rocks.

But maybe we need to start even farther back, Instagram, with my last day in New York and some better context for my poor life choices.

After all, no good story ever started with a selfie.

To Be Continued #adventuregrams

Our story about Cambridge begins in my turquoise New York

apartment. I had moved there after high school to take a gap year, but ended up taking three because I fell in love with the City in that over-eager, evangelical way that only immigrants can. Have you ever heard a girl from suburban Virginia telling strangers about a land of opportunity where the streets are paved with gold? Then perhaps we’ve met. And, plot twist, friends! My favorite neighborhood is where I live: The West Village. It’s where Old New York charm (cobblestones, parks) meets up-scale boutiques and low-risk bohemia (liberal art degrees, lofts). You can see where it is in the picture because it’s the only area of downtown Manhattan with trees on every block and building regulations against skyscrapers. Why am I telling you all this? Oh yes, I was talking about moving to New York and then digressed into a crazy rant. The point is, I just really love the West Village and I need you guys to love it too for the next part of the story to make sense. So can you do that for me, best friends? It shouldn’t be too hard. As Tom Wolfe once said, “One belongs to New York instantly… as much in five minutes as in five years.” To Be Continued #adventuregrams

Now that you guys have fallen in love with New York, I have just one more best-friend-favor I need to ask. It’s super strange, but you guys are pros and I know there’s nothing you can’t handle. Which is why I need you to fall in love with my ex-boyfriend, Josh.

Allow me to explain.

You see, in order to make goodbyes resonant and engaging, stories need a shit ton of build-up. Just take the first 205 minutes of Titanic for example. Heartwarming mini-stories, character-defining dialogue, Leonardo DiCaprio’s face—the kind of stuff my 7th grade English teacher Mr. Kay called ‘rising action’ and gave me detention for calling ‘narrative foreplay.’ But you and I, Instagram? We’re busy people. We fancy. We don’t have that kind of time or Leonardo DiCaprio’s face. (Damn you Toni Garnn!) And so I need you to do me a solid, Instagram, and just fall in love with my ex-boyfriend, OKEEYYY? Because the only alternative is trying to re-cap every single quotidian detail of our year-long relationship and nobody—not a best friend like you—wants that. So here’s the deal, guys. You love Josh; Josh loves you; and I’m totally okay with it in a weird, inappropriate, incestuous way. Here’re some seasonal feet photos to put you in the mood. I think we’re finally ready to begin our story about Cambridge.

To Be Continued #adventuregrams

Can I say to be a polyglot?

A little while ago I had an illumination. But before, a step back.

Having always dreamt to travel around the world, and owning my parents a bakery/bar/ice-cream parlor in a highly touristic place so that holidays were out of the picture, since I can remember I’ve always been envy of those kids who, having lived abroad or having parents from other countries, were able to talk more than only Italian. I was good at school, but learning languages have never been a talent of mine and my inadequacy in carry a conversation embarrassed me for a long time.
It has been the obsession for films and tv shows to push me to listen English on a daily basis. So between the end of high school and the first months of university I became accustomed to sub-titles and to read books in English that I had already read in Italian. Until the greediness grew and grew and I could not wait anymore for subtitles and translations. Films, shows, books, and blogs, they all taught me more than all those years in school did. English is such a part of my daily life now that I speak to myself in English all the time and often I can remember in which language I read/listen something. 

Remember the illumination? Well, I’ve always put myself down because I wasn’t good as others were. But you know what? Fuck off! My English may not be perfect and I have no idea of how my accent sounds because I refuse to listen registrations of my voice, but I wrote this blog for more than four years, I read books and watch things in their original version and almost never have problem understanding them. I know English.
Plus, I taught myself French well enough to pass two university exams (but it is still pretty bad, believe me) and I’m studying Dutch on my own. 
If you think that it is not such a big deal, 1. you are from an English speaking country and always expect people to understand you or 2. you are from a country were most of the population speaks English, which is not my case. Good old Italy.

So fuck you, past me, who was always such a harsh critic of herself. You are exactly where you dreamt to be as a kid. Enjoy it. 

Frida's Diaries #4

No posts this week, sorry. I've been in Bologna for a  few days at my friend Mela's, without my computer. But it's time for another Frida's Diaries episode, so I'm sure you will forgive me!

I was worry that Frida was gonna be mad because I left. A couple of times she gave my mother or me the silence treatment, or better the "I'm ignoring you since you didn't let me sleep on your pillow" treatment, as a sort of punishment. Instead, the moment she saw me at the station, in front of the car, she started crying in a way I've never heard and licked everything she could reach and her body was so pressed on mine that I could barely breath. Now she checks on me every now and then, I think to be sure that I haven't gone anywhere. God, I love her so much.

The 30th her first three teeth fall, three all together. It's good, the milk teeth are so little and sharp that can easily cut the skin, especially mine, but it must hurts a lot for her.

Two Mondays ago the rain caught us outside. We run in the car but even if I drove toward home, we had to wait around 20 minutes parking in our street because the situation was very bad. At first Frida looked outside of the window and at me, miserable, then she took the opportunity for a nap. When we finally arrived home she fell asleep in two minutes.

Obviously, I keep taking hundreds of photos of her sleeping. She's just too adorable.

See ya later, we are gonna take a walk. hoping for at least a light cold breeze.

Don't tell the gods I left a mess

Along with these fisheye photos, I also developed a film from my secondhand Olympus Infinity jr. This is probably my favorite camera. I love analog photography, and this is just such an easy camera to bring around and take photos without thinking too much about it. It reminds me of when I had a camera with me during elementary and middle school trips and how fun it was to just take pictures.
 my last day in Forl√¨ - Ila's graduation - my 22nd birthday

The last photos are all from my graduation, taken in the park we went after the ceremony. One with my Mom and the other with Mela. Then there are the roses my brother's girlfriend gave me and two of the park itself. So beautiful.

I also have some analog pics of Frida, but I'm gonna post them in a different post. See you later.

Just Friends

Late Saturday night/early Sunday morning, I was in bed with Frida sleeping on my side when I watched a BuzzFeed video, Making New Friends as a Grown up, the first episode of a new series called Real Mature. It is, obviously, about the process of making friends after you reached a certain age. I think it's really interesting and go watch it if you hadn't.
Probably I liked this video so much because it talks about something that I think it's so important in almost everyone life and still it's underrated: friends.

When you are a kid it's super important to have friends, they say, but growing up the pressure it gets more on love interests. Or am I the only one who felt that? People aspect you to have crushes and find a boy/girlfriend, while looking for new friends would sound juts weird. Giving my lack of interest in the "love department", I always got mad when someone said "just friends". As if a. being friends and being in a romantic relationship are per se two different things and b. being friends is something less than being lovers. I may not being able to understand this because I've never been in love, but when I think about the best friends I had in my life, "less" is the last word that comes to my mind. Not all the friendship relationships are the same, not all have the same intensity and affection, but the very good ones are irreplaceable. Even the ones that ended and the ones that ended badly.

I'm now 22 and looking for a love partner would be acceptable while just hanging out looking for new friends would be..., again, weird (?) I'm going to study abroad so I guess I'm gonna make new friends. It won't be easy, I'm shy and have social issues. But I don't want to overthink about it right now. I'll deal with this when the time will come.
For hard that it will be, anyway, at least I will be surrounded by people who share for sure one of my interests, we will all study the same thing. I cannot but wonder what I would do in other situations with no university or work mates to bond with. And why it's to difficult to even imaging a similar situation is perfectly explained by a girl in the video, Sophie: I guess the hardest part of making friends is admitting that you want to make new friends because you feel like when you are an adult you should have already have friends and you should have already find your place in the World, but really you don’t know what it’s going on at all and that’s ok.

Having always lived in the same small place, and having always idolizing eternal friendship, in particular with girls, as the ultimate goal, I arrived only in the last couple of years at a conclusion that completely turned upside down my way of thinking. I was rushing to create and consolidated my "girl gang", but I cannot know how things are gonna change, how the others and me are gonna change, not every friendship is meant to last forever but this doesn't mean that it can't be beautiful and meaningful. And mostly, you can never know who is waiting out there and what a new person can give you. If I didn't send a particular email almost three years I wouldn't have found my best friend, someone who I was so clearly meant to meet, who lives almost at the other side of the world. (More on this soon)

What about you? Do you have something special in your life?