stella

I’ve been giving this a fair bit of thought lately and I think that I’ve finally come to this conclusion. I will move to a small town in France or Tuscany by the time I’m thirty. And by small I mean under 5000 people and the roads have not been paved over just yet. Cobblestone is a plus but I can deal with dirt roads as well, it’ll have to be rich in culture too, not diluted by the outside world. I don’t know, I just have this mental image of me being Diane Lane in Under the Tuscan Sun. Buy an old house and hire a butt load of Polish builders, one of which is young and adorable and likes the pretty Italian girl that lives at the villa across the… dirt road. Hopefully he won’t bring her up to my bedroom and bang her on my bed as the virgin Mary looks down upon them, but if I’m not going to be getting any in it, someone might as well. I’ll just leave them a note to change the sheets, I’m cool like that.

Learning Italian or French will be easy enough, I’m a quick learner and I’ve always been interested in foreign languages. I already know one but it doesn’t count as we all had to learn it to talk to my bunica because she refused to learn English. Well, she understood it and I have the sneaking suspicion that she can actually speak it but the woman absolutely refuses to, which is fine. This is the woman who tried to marry me off when I was twelve, it’s probably a good thing that she doesn’t speak in languages that people can understand when she visits but it would be good for a laugh. I digress. Italian and French will be easy, Spanish might be too but I don’t want to move to Spain. Men there look like Rafael Nadal and that would be distracting as hell, I would like to go to La Tomatina though. See that’s just it… I think I just love their festivals. Like Tuscany has that festival with the flower petals where they make art out of it on the roads and then everyone goes out in it and makes a mess of it and for the better part of the week there are petals floating around in the air and it’s gorgeous. France has… French people. Which might not be much of a draw for some, but anyone who can appreciate a good piece of fromage and wine are alright by me. Plus, they let Van Gogh live there, Starry Night changed my life.


I should get back to work instead of contemplating my departure from Providence because it won’t happen for a while and it’s bound to get depressing, plus… I’ve only just met my cousin’s daughter and having a little person around could be great. So thirty.

Au revior. Ciao. Ect…

PS- I went to get vodka on Saturday night and the people at the liquor store attempted to confiscate my ID and called the police. Once they confirmed that I am the age I say I am, I didn't even want the damn bottle any more. My life is so hard.