Sunday, a great day

After being great Catholics, Liz, Prima, Giuseppe, and I planned our day over cappuccino. ‘Seppe went off to Arezzo with Henk and others. (Had I two functioning knees, I would’ve gone.) Liz hit up the train station to look at travel rates for spring break and other trips. Prima and I decided to grab lunch at our neighborhood theater’s restaurant. While walking, she got distracted by a leather jacket in a store’s window. So she bought it. But it is quite a beautiful jacket, it looks fantastic on her, and it even matched what she was wearing at the time.

Liz eventually joined us for lunch and after lasagna and gnocchi, we spent the afternoon studying in her apartment. Then the day got really good. A representative from the landlord’s office – Let’s just call her Mrs. Claus. – rang our doorbells and dropped off two giant sacks of apartment supplies for us: Bathroom rugs, new towels, two eight-piece sets of stainless steel pots.

Fusilli with marinara sauce doctored with tomatoes, garlic, onions, mushrooms, and Parmesan cheese. Breaded, fried, and baked chicken breasts covered in marinara and the freshest buffalo mozzarella.

The girls got so excited they made dinner for me. Prima accidentally made her nicknames. (Apparently “Primavera” as a first name confuses some of her roommates and sometimes she is referred to as “Primapasta” or “Parmigiana.”) So primapasta parmigiana was half our dinner. And Liz made chicken parm. Both were amazing. It was easily the nicest homemade meal I’ve had here so far. John came over eventually to hang out. He’d been invited to dinner but was fashionably trendsetting-ly late.

My roommates and I closed out the night by watching Half Baked, which Giuseppe found inexplicably on his flash drive. We were not baked at all.