Revelation #1: I don't look good in vests. Not sweatervests, nor that particular brand of Serena van der Woodsen organ grinder's monkey vests, either. They make me look like fat, frumpy, fifties' Frida.
Revelation #2: I would like a song called "Creeper." It's from the new Unicorns album, Arm's Way, which I've finally started listening to even though it came out early this summer. But it is a really good song. Actually, the album is altogether excellent; highly suggested!
And not a revelation, but a fun fact from this weekend was that while I was walking on the via Matteoti on Sunday, on the way to La Luna Rossa, an Italian woman stopped me for directions (!) And I knew exactly how to get to where she wanted to go (the piazza Liberta) (!!) But of course I had no idea how to say 'hang a left right here and keep walking until you hit the big gaudy arch. You can't miss it' (!!!!!!!!!!) I actually think that is a far worse feeling than altogether having no idea where anything is. It's been really frustrating lately with the whole language issue, mostly because of my unrealistic expectations. Like, I am fully cognizant of the reality that I'm not going to turn around and be fluent in Italian, but I still kind of want to be, at the same time. I was really happy that I could potentially instruct her, and really upset that it was the simple question of the language that prevented from being helpful. I think my wild gesticulations were truly cross-cultural. Whatever.
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