Birthday review, 1994
I spent the fall semester of my junior year in college studying in Florence, Italy. I was so lucky - spending a whole semester studying Italian, art history and cooking. Despite having passed my Italian proficiency exam after two years of Italian, I found that while I could understand most of what was being said, I could barely converse. I think it took until the end of the term before I felt fairly comfortable, even starting to dream in Italian.
To celebrate my birthday, my new friends and I went to Venice. We walked around, ate good food, and drank plenty of wine. The morning before my birthday, we woke up with the fattest heads on earth. We loaded up our packs and bags and stumbled to the nearest coffee bar for a double shot of espresso. As we were nursing our heads back to health, we noticed that we were being filmed by a camera crew who was in a boat in the canal. Convinced that we were now going to be starring players in a documentary on the laziness of American students abroad, or maybe a film about homeless people living off of garbage in the canals, we ducked into an alley and brushed our hair and applied fresh lipstick. Certainly no one would confuse us with vagrants if our lips clearly said "Del Rio" by MAC.
We put our freshly improved Italian to the test and struck up a conversation with the film crew. It turns out they WERE filming a documentary on the canal - but only about how polluted it was, not about the lazy hungover Americans sitting next to it. Agreeing that the canal was filthy and the city smelled like garbage, they gave us bags and hats with the slogan "Puliamo il Mundo" printed on the side. Here we are sporting our new caps and bags.
The night before my birthday, my friends returned to Florence and I took the train to Verona. If you can't celebrate your 21st birthday getting into an American bar legally for the first time, the next best choice is to spend it in Italy with 8 businessmen and your mother. My dad and seven of his coworkers happened to be attending a trade show in Verona that crossed over my birthday, so of course my mom joined them so that she could hitch a ride to Italy.
I met my parents in a hotel bar where they ordered a round of grappa to celebrate my birthday. My dad's friend George talked the bartender into exchanging his for a shot of tequila, trying to explain that it tasted like "jet fuel" by saying it loudly and slowly in "American".
Viva la birthday (3 days to go).
On the table tonight: Pork Roast with White Beans and Cranberries, baked apples, glazed carrots.
To celebrate my birthday, my new friends and I went to Venice. We walked around, ate good food, and drank plenty of wine. The morning before my birthday, we woke up with the fattest heads on earth. We loaded up our packs and bags and stumbled to the nearest coffee bar for a double shot of espresso. As we were nursing our heads back to health, we noticed that we were being filmed by a camera crew who was in a boat in the canal. Convinced that we were now going to be starring players in a documentary on the laziness of American students abroad, or maybe a film about homeless people living off of garbage in the canals, we ducked into an alley and brushed our hair and applied fresh lipstick. Certainly no one would confuse us with vagrants if our lips clearly said "Del Rio" by MAC.
We put our freshly improved Italian to the test and struck up a conversation with the film crew. It turns out they WERE filming a documentary on the canal - but only about how polluted it was, not about the lazy hungover Americans sitting next to it. Agreeing that the canal was filthy and the city smelled like garbage, they gave us bags and hats with the slogan "Puliamo il Mundo" printed on the side. Here we are sporting our new caps and bags.
The night before my birthday, my friends returned to Florence and I took the train to Verona. If you can't celebrate your 21st birthday getting into an American bar legally for the first time, the next best choice is to spend it in Italy with 8 businessmen and your mother. My dad and seven of his coworkers happened to be attending a trade show in Verona that crossed over my birthday, so of course my mom joined them so that she could hitch a ride to Italy.
I met my parents in a hotel bar where they ordered a round of grappa to celebrate my birthday. My dad's friend George talked the bartender into exchanging his for a shot of tequila, trying to explain that it tasted like "jet fuel" by saying it loudly and slowly in "American".
Viva la birthday (3 days to go).
On the table tonight: Pork Roast with White Beans and Cranberries, baked apples, glazed carrots.
Del Rio by MAC - that was the best!!!
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With no disrespect to the Italians, I was generous in my description of Grappa. This is a great blog.
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