an update!

Wow, now I remember why it’s so hard to keep up with updates here. It’s been an eventful week.

Saturday 1/31/09

Saturday night we made dinner for the Signoria girls, Sergio, and Domenico. (I believe this invitation or self-invitation – can’t remember which – was made in drunkenness a previous night.) It went pretty well. Orrechiette con pesto, pasta puttanesca, and risotto di asparagi. Since we wanted to introduce the ladies to some Italian flavors, I was in charge of the meal. I decided to honor Kelsey’s vegetarianism, but next time we know better. Everything tasted good, and Domenico, who’s from the south, approved of the orrechiette, so that was a good sign. Hmmm, what else? The guys brought lots of wine, which we drank. And the girls brought strawberry tarts, which were bite-size and nicely sweet. A certain blonde also exclaimed in the middle of dinner “Oh, I just got that!” … “that” being the reason we call Miles “Kilometers.”

Sunday 2/1/09

Despite a long night of barhopping the night before, Sunday was all about the Superbowl. Sergio threw a Superbowl (aka Steelers Fans Only) party at the bar. I suggested the not-so-bright idea of one-shot-per-touchdown, which was extended into take-a-sip-for-every-good-play. The Signoria girls and Ghibellina’s girl were both there. As was Tina! Good times. Naturally, The Steelers’ win turned the bar upside down that night. I knew things were done and finished with when Antonio asked ME to make him a drink. We closed out the bar, proceeded to stay there all night, and left around sunrise.

Monday 2/2/09

Unfortunately, Monday did not start off so well. When Adrian and I got back to the apartment, we found a very disoriented Miles in the lobby. Apparently he had been mugged when he walked home alone. He was also bleeding from the head. So we brought him to the hospital. I called his parents, cancelled his cell phone, and tried to cancel his debit card to no avail. Don’t worry. He had to get stitches and a CAT scan, but he’s fine. So I spent pretty much all of Monday in the waiting room and in Miles’ room. I unfortunately am well acquainted with this hospital. But sitting in a waiting room where people are being told their loved ones have passed away or that they have terminal cancer, you can’t help feeling grateful for your health and that your past hospital visits have been relatively minor. Also props to the patient doctors, nurses, and receptionists who deal with this sort of the thing every day. I found it exhausting just being there watching everything go on. Anyway, by the early evening, Miles was conscious and talking again. He was complaining about having to stay overnight despite feeling fine, so I knew he was okay.

I just want to say that I’m shocked as everyone else is that this happened. And Firenze is a very safe and walking city. That being said, in my year of being here, I’ve only heard of incidents like this happening twice. And both times it involved someone who was walking home, (1) very very late at night, (2) by himself, and (3) visibly intoxicated. So don’t do those things in combination and ideally don’t do them at all.

Tuesday 2/3/09

At this point, between the jet lag, Superbowl party, the 24 hours of not sleeping, Miles and the hospital, and etc… I had a very messed up sleep schedule. This was probably in honor of Tom’s birthday. (Last semester, he usually slept from dawn to dusk.) Happy birthday, Tom, by the way. I woke up early enough to greet him at midnight his time.

So Emo must think his new roommates never sleep because we’re up till four, up again at eight, and then he’s gone in the afternoon when we’re asleep again. Miles and I are convinced there’s some mystery noise that wakes us up at eight in the morning like an alarm. But we’ve always either never been awake before eight or home to find out exactly what it is.

Anyway, I woke up to a note from Tanjila asking me, in honor of The Borgasm, please NOT to call my new apartment The Pergasm. So I’ve decided on calling it Pergotory or Il Pergotorio. (Dante, anyone?) Because it’s not quite the Heaven or Paradiso that was the Borgasm, but it’s certainly not the Hell or Inferno of real life.

I’ve had my first classes, but I’ll write about them later this week to save time and spice. (I’ll make one exception for Thursday.) Congrats to Andrea. He wasn’t in class on Tuesday because he was at the hospital becoming a father.

Miles was released from the hospital and came home safe and sound.

Wednesday 2/4/09

Miles was up and running. He made curried eggs and espresso for breakfast.

I had class all day and then we went over to The Signore Della Signoria’s apartment for dinner. (They insisted on cooking for us as a thank-you for Saturday.) So they made salad, pasta, and chicken. Delicious. One of them almost drank a glass of balsamic vinegar, mistaking the bottle for one of wine. They've also decided when they leave Italy, they're going to form "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Furry Vodka Bottle." So I would start calling them that, but it's a bit too long.

We had an excessive amount of wine, so we taught Sergio pretty much every drinking game there is that involves cards: Fuck the dealer; Up the river, down the river; Fuck you; Fuck you, pyramid; Horserace; Kings, etc

“Now I know why Americans are always drunk,” he said. “And why your apartment [i.e. The Borgasm] always comes to the bar at 1am.”

Miles and I actually went home “early” (after midnight), a bit tired from classes and the mayhem of earlier in the week. It sounds like the only thing we missed out on was a bunch of drunken drama, so it was probably a wise decision on our part.

Thursday 2/5/09

Have you noticed how well we’re eating this semester? Chalk it up to living with an actual culinary student who actually wants to be a chef. Breakfast was pain perdue (or “French toast”) with candied pears, wine reduction, and toasted almonds.

So I had two classes on Thursday, but one of them only meets every other week. So I’ll write about it now. The subject is “Italian Cakes.” I’m taking it because my pastry skills are severely lacking. Last semester was The Dream Schedule and this semester is All The Things Andrew Should Actually Learn. The chef who teaches it is named Mario, and he’s really cool. He’s young, humble, friendly. There are only two other students in the class, both girls. So he told me early on that I need to step it up and represent. That day was all Tuscan baked goods, and we divided up the work; we made schiacciata (sponge cake), ricciarelli (soft almond cookies that I was in charge of), and the famous cantuccini from Prato (the ones you dip in Vin Santo).

Anyway, the girls and I agreed this would probably be our favorite class. Partly because of the pastries, partly because of Mario. I actually made a huge mistake and folded egg yolks instead of egg whites into some dough, but he found a way to salvage it. “I’m not making this face because I want to kill you. I’m making this face because I’m trying to figure out how to fix this. That’s what we do in a kitchen when we have a problem... We don’t get angry or give up, we find a way to solve it.” Oh, and did I mention that he works at a certain, amazing one-star Michelin restaurant here in Florence that I may or may not have been to with Alex, Molly, and Val last semester and love? I might actually learn something about pastry.

That night was the Welcome Party at the bar. Paola, the chef who replaced me, rolled out quite an impressive feast: Chicken curry rice, chick pea and tuna salad, mussel and clam pasta, sautéed spinach, rigatoni and penne pastas, a fresh vegetable platter, a mixed bean salad. The list goes on and on.

Friday 2/6/09

Adrian and I watched LOST. (It’s so good. Okay. Enough.) And we made a nice Filipino breakfast. Ligo sardines in tomato and hot pepper sauce, fried eggs, and Aeri’s remaining sushi rice.

I had to go to school and take an exam from Andrea (which unfortunately was written and not practical) in order to get into a higher-level Italian Food class. It was all about risotto, and extra virgin olive oil, and Parmigiano-Reggiano, and bluefish, and cod, and lard, and prosciutto. I passed!

Adrian and I celebrated with lunch at this sandwich place that I love and he’s always wanted to go to. Best meatball subs ever. Afterwards, he, Miles, and I went to run errands. Miles and I bought new wallets at the market because we’re both prone to theft. (I to pickpocket-ry and he to mugging. See Monday.) Adrian bought a guitar! So the sound of music has been echoing in our apartment since. Miles and I get along really well because all we do is talk about food all day. While Adrian went guitar shopping, he and I just walked around a grocery. Not buying. Just talking.

We met up with Sergio for dinner because Miles wanted to give bistecca Fiorentina a try, and I’m pretty sure he approved. We spent the rest of the night at the wine bar by The Borgasm and barhopping with Cary and her friends, who live nearby. The Porcellan Dolls.

Saturday 2+7=09

Saturday was pretty chilled out because I don’t remember much of it. I’m pretty sure we all slept in.

Adrian, Miles and I went out for lunch – sushi and tempura. Now anyone who reads this probably knows I don’t like fish that much but love sushi because it’s light and subtly flavored and I can eat a lot of it. And I really enjoy it for lunch after a heavy night of drinking, which is a habit I picked up at Tulane. And I don't eat tempura as often but I love it even more because it reminds me how much my parents love me. [When I was really young, I used to love tempura like crazy. My parents, being fresh out of college, didn't have all that much money so they'd bring me to Union Station to gorge on it at a reasonably-priced place there. And only when I'd finish, they'd eat the leftovers.]

So jumping ahead to the next meal before get teary-eyed, Sergio took Adrian and I out to dinner to a nice restaurant he used to work for. I got some smoked goose breast for an appetizer, a grilled young rooster alla diavolo, and for dessert some sacher torte (which I theoretically know how to make because of chocolate class last semester).
Adrian wasn’t feeling well and went home, but Sergio and I went out with some other girls. I don’t know if we’ll see them again and I don’t know where they live. So they don’t get a nickname.

Sunday 2/8/09

Adrian and I went to Sunday mass and then afterwards picked up Miles to go last-minute grocery shopping. (Practically everywhere here is closed on Sunday afternoon/evening.)

We picked up some merenda in the form of kebabs from a place near our house. Our friend Mustafa actually owns it.

The roommates of Pergotory (including Emo!) all had a nice dinner that night – beef/pork meatballs with balsamic reduction and risotto alla Parmigiana. We spent the rest of the evening playing card games. We taught Miles and Emo [Presidents &]Asshole[s] and more importantly RUMMY500. Anyone from The Borgasm knows this game took up approximately 75% of our sober time and probably at least 25% of our drunk time. We use the whiteboard in our kitchen to keep score. If Kyle were still our roommate, it would have been great for Pictionary.

Monday 2/9/09

Miles and I went to school this morning to reserve some spots on a few trips for the semester, but neither of us did because the lady in charge trips was out sick. So we went to the market instead to buy groceries. But we were distracted by our hunger, so first I introduced Miles to Our Lady of Lampredotto. And he now shares in my passion for those meaty, spicy sandwiches.

I spent the afternoon just chilling out because I wasn’t feeling that well. We had a merenda of dried kiwis and raw cashews that we’d bought earlier. We played rummy with the roommates again. And Miles made a great dinner tonight too. Red-wine braised rabbit and roasted squash and figs with truffled honey. Miles and I have decided we want to learn to make a main course from every protein possible before the end of the semester. Dessert was a yellow melon mostly because Miles and I saw them at the market and couldn’t remember ever trying one.

I went to our neighborhood Irish pub to hang out with my friend Michele, who bartenders there. A few pints later Miles and his friend Jacky showed up, so we taught her how to bomb a car. When Sergio and Adrian showed up, all six of us did a few shots. We went barhopping again. Saw Antonio, Joe, Marc, and Ciccio. We ran into Gianni, the owner of a trattoria we frequent. He gave Miles and me their recipe for trippa alla Fiorentina, so that’s probably going to be on our dinner menu in the near future. When the bars closed, we hit up a late-night kebab place and then called it a night.

In closing
If you’ve made it this far, thank you. I’ll try to write both more often and more briefly in the future.

first weekend back

Wednesday 1/28

So when I got to my new apartment, which is nowhere near the heaven known as Borgo Ognissanti 23, Adrian and our new roommate Miles were already there. It’s pretty nice, bigger than my first one but not quite as large as the one in the fall. I’m tempted to christen it “The Pergasm,” but we’ll see. Miles is from Alaska. He’s a culinary student, Adrian’s age, and in agreement with us that Sarah Palin is hot. (PALIN/ONEY ’12!!! Sorry, Jesse.)

That first night, the three of us met up with Sergio and eight girls he’d met the previous night. We went to a trattoria near Santa Croce and gave the girls and Miles their first taste of real, Italian pasta. And of course some wine. Kelsey, one of the girls, actually went to college with a Gonzaga guy I know named Mac. The small world syndrome in Italy continues.

From there, we hit up the bar we regularly haunt. So it was great to see Angie, Mateo, and Antonio. Johnson, everyone’s favorite Chinese South African, was around also. Domenico, one of my other Italian friends from last year who moved away, is back in town for the weekend, so I finally got to introduce him to Adrian. Shots. Drinks. Shots. Drinks.

Around 11, Miles (or “Kilometers” as he will hereby be referred to, KM for short) and I left to go back to the apartment and let our other roommate, a strong-silent type Bulgarian named Emanuil. I’m sure, smelling of alcohol and smoke, we made a great first impression.

“Emo” was tired, so he went to bed. Miles and I polished off a bottle of red that he’d had handy. (Apparently all there is to do in Alaska is drink and smoke?) And then we went back to the bar. There, we met some other girls who we thought were the ones we met earlier. Our bad. But then we went off to the club to find the girls, Adrian, and Sergio. Drinking, dancing, secret bakery, and then walking the ladies back to their apartment by Piazza Signoria.

Thursday 1/29

I spent Thursday just running random errands. Outdoor market, grocery store, picking up the Borgasm leftovers I had stashed in my lockers over break (some of random junk, Jesse’s spices, baking supplies, and Aeri’s Korean goods).

That night Sergio, Domenico, and I went out for pizza and beer. That felt like a time warp, and I remember now why I sort-of spoke Italian last year. The owner gave us Jager as a digestif (or something, haha) after dinner. What a mistake that was.

From there, we went out barhopping where Albie joined us. Albie. Now we’re really in a time warp. If Miko was in town, I would have all my Italians back. More shots. More too much Jager. So much for not drinking that night.

I hung out at the bar, got to see Megan and Lorenzo again, but skipped out on the club. (I hadn’t been feeling that great already since dinner.) I passed by the Irish pub on the way and stopped in to say hi to Michele the karaoke maestro. Which of course led to shots of sambuca, my original Italian weakness. He looks forward to meeting “The junior Borgasms,” so I hope to start recruiting people who like to drink, dance, and most importantly, sing.

I got home and got online – I now have semi-reliable Internet – and Jacque was on! So we caught up a little bit. Apparently she’s failing at her 50-year plan, which is why I never wrote one. But failing in a good way. I was telling her that Tara and I wanted to go to Miami this summer and visit her, but my summer schedule is kind of busy because PEOPLE KEEP GETTING MARRIED. (Who started that trend again? Oh right. Jacque.)

Jacque also informed me that babies with Jason are in her new 50-year plan. So once little Jacqsons start running around, I’ll feel really old. She approves of the Tara/Andrew old-and-single “beautiful babies” plan and noted they’d be quite photogenic. And she doesn’t want Tara to move to Texas even though I noted that she’d fit the “Everything’s bigger in Texas” stereotype.
Tara if you’re reading this, write me sometime. I miss you madly! So does Florence. There’s a larger-than-life (and I’m not just talking about your boobs) portrait of you hanging in Ganzo.

Friday 1/30

I got up the next morning to find Alaska and Bulgaria gone off to orientation. Adrian was still asleep, so I made lunch using Aeri’s very peppery but delicious Korean canned tuna and bag of sushi rice. I took Sal’s advice and showed Miles all of Jesse’s baking supplies and said, “You know, my old Alaskan roommate used to bake. All the time.” Apparently, he’s not a pastry guy. But here’s hoping.

I talked a bit online with Carly, a master’s student at Apicius who came here last semester and used to date another Gonzaga guy who was my year. Small world. I’m really enjoying having Internet again.

Then somehow I slept away all the afternoon and got up just in time to be late to our school’s official “welcome party” at Space Mountain. Which by the way, is nowhere near as fun when you’re not there with thirteen good friends who are drunk. Also apparently, the DJ stole the karaoke list from the Irish pub because most of the music was 90s pop and 80s dance music. So, let’s see, who can we possibly substitute in as dance partners if the Borgasm crew is away? Oh yes. The school staff. Cristiano, Francesca, Kandace, Luca, and Grace were all there in full force and cutting a rug. Good times. Eventually the music shifted to present-day tunes. I called Diedre during “Low” and, with Cristiano in tow, called Tanji for “Circus.” I also got to meet a few of the new Stony Brookers, and they seem nice. But Francesca is right, I’m not sure if we’ll be able to love them quite the same way. And Cristiano wants to know when the next Sangria Party is. We’ll see.

When Adrian, Miles, and I left, we stopped by the nearby wine bar. But proprietor Cristian was apparently out. The rest of his awesome bar staff was around, so that was nice little reunion. Shots. A promise to come back despite not living in the neighborhood.

When we got back to our usual Santa Croce haunt, Samba was there. Just barely missed his birthday celebration last week. But I’m sure we’ll find excuse to party sooner or later.

Eventually everyone I know so far, old and new friends, staff and students, regrouped at the bar. And here comes the ultimate small-world encounter. Cary, a girl who Adrian went to grade school with, and the little sister of an old friend of mine, was there to meet up with us! I swear Florence has some kind of secret St. Mary’s Magnet. Between her, Adrian, Alicia and Tristana last semester, and of course Hilary and myself, the originals.

The club was packed that night. Unsurprising as how it’s the first weekend everyone is back and no one has classes yet.

Saturday/Today 1/31

Adrian and I were both up surprisingly early, so I took him to the market. (I can’t believe he’s never seen it, but he was, like everyone, awed and slightly overwhelmed by the large and fresh selection of ingredients.)

When we got back to the apartment, Miles was in the shower, so we made a breakfast of champions… scrambled eggs, green tea, and toast with cream cheese (or “Philadelphia” as the Italians call it) and berries (blue, black, and straw).

Happy weekend, everyone.

back to Florence

Time to resurrect this thing.

To all you loyal readers: I’M SORRY.
Some people (e.g. Shanaynay) brought it to my attention during the fall semester that I’ve been severely behind in updates.

But even more people, including some who I didn’t even know read this, mentioned it over winter break.

No more excuses. Even if my life becomes completely boring, I will keep y’all in the know. And like I told a certain Shannon the other day, if there are any really good stories from the fall, I’m sure they’ll make some sort of appearance eventually.

So I’m leaving last semester behind for now.

Break went by very quickly but was lots of fun. Looking back, I guess a lot happened: a few what’s-new phone calls with former Florentines; Christmas in Jersey with the aunts and cousins; Kara’s wedding; Chipotle burrito lunch before the Visi girls skipped down; Gonzaga alumni networking meeting; New Year’s at National Harbor with the family; Ryanne’s third 21st birthday; lots of miss-you phone calls with members of The Borgasm; Irish pub draughts and dinner with Fiorella; video game sleepover with Ludovic and Kairos story exchange with Stephane; dinner at Max’s with him and Ryanne; Union Station reunion with Steven; ciao dinner with Ona, Claire, et al; lots of catch-up phone calls with old friends; and of course lots of quality time with Bella (aka my little sister, aka the bitch, aka my family’s pet dog), Mom, and even Dad.

Sorry, Shan. I’m not over the “rote lists” yet. I’ll take this time to write you a shout-out for being so good at keeping our phone dates.

So, I was seated next to a very interesting person on the flight to Frankfurt. (Adrian and I traveled separately.) Does anyone remember the story about that time I flew back to New Orleans for lagniappe semester after Adrian’s graduation and decided to pound several beers back with the generous gentleman next to me? Yeah, it was like the opposite of that. The man sitting next to me, let’s call him John, was on his way to Japan to give a talk about missionary work and then going to the Philippines to do medical missions there. How crazy is that? His original flight plan got cancelled, so he got flight got rerouted through Germany. Which didn’t faze him because he speaks German. And Japanese. And Portuguese. And Spanish. And Italian. And Spanish. AND APPARENTLY TAGALOG?

Believe me, I quizzed him on the last three because I was somewhere between being very impressed and very skeptical. I'm sure there are more, but those are the only ones I heard.

But yeah, he works in Virginia, has a wife, four kids who he’s teaching these multiple languages, and still finding time to spread God’s word and love across the world.

Now I’m not going to get all preachy or anything but... kind of person who makes you reconsider your life and life plans, eh?

We only started talking after breakfast, but I had noticed how considerate and polite he was earlier to fellow passengers and the flight crew. I didn’t sleep at all the whole way, so I wish I had abandoned the subpar movie selection and struck up a conversation earlier. (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2, anyone?)

But yeah, that last hour flew by. This is the kind of thing that I consider too fortuitous to be just chance or luck. It’s that trend that every time I’m completely lost in my life, the right, and often most unexpected, person (sent by God?) comes along. So I’m pretty grateful for that.

At this moment I have a rather long layover in Frankfurt and then back to Firenze without my biological family (save for Adrian) and without my huge Borgasmic family. And I miss both dearly. So whether you’re from one of those groups, a Tulane drinking buddy, a Gonzaga brother, a Visitation lady, or someone who’s known me even longer, I hope not to disappoint you any longer. Props to you if you’ve made it through all this.

And Shannon, don’t expect to get mentioned this many times ever again until we reunite. I HOPE THIS ENTRY’S CONTAINED ENOUGH RAW EMOTION FOR YOU.

(I apologize to everyone for the caps. People shouldn’t write when they haven’t slept.)

I'll do another update sometime this weekend regarding move-in and the first night and my new roommates.

For all you travelers and stalkers, here’s my schedule for the year.

January 28 to May 17: Firenze, Italia
May 17 to May 20: Washington, DC
May 20 to May 27: New Orleans and Lafayette, Louisiana
May 27 to July 16: Washington, DC
(June _ _ to _ _: Long Island and/or in NYC, New York?)
July 16 to July 21: Nashville, TN
July 21 to August 5: Washington, DC
August 5 to August 10: Chicago, IL
August 10 to ___________ _ _?: Washington, DC

If we haven’t already planned to meet up sometime in there, I hope to see you sooner rather than later. Feel free to send me e-mails since the phone rates are kind of atrocious. Ciao for now.

Saaandee Bangs!

An excerpt from a letter from Shanaynay:

So i just updated myself on your giornale. Actually I was a bit disappointed. The entries seem like rote lists of where you went and what you ate. Where's the passion? Where's the drama? Where's the comedy? Where are the internal struggles of dear Andrew Marin? I have two conclusions: 1) your life has become boring or depresising. 2) you're leaving out the juicy details on purpose. I refuse to believe number one. So Give Me The Juice!

Apologies to all. I think the degradation of the quality of writing in my journal is due to us not having the internet and our pirating a choppy signal out the window, so I have to type incredibly fast and don’t have time to linger and ponder. Plus I have twelve roommates, so I never have time to write because someone ALWAYS wants to do something fun like eat, play gin rummy 500, play drinking games, go out drinking, talk, or etc. And as usual, I try to respect people’s privacy to ensure they, unlike me, will be able to find employment in the future.

But I’ll work on all that.

The past few weeks have been busy with my parents visiting, the drama and near-schism of our precious Borgasm, and now it's the holidays and the last two weeks in Florence.

I'll work on all this. I promise.