Saturday, June 25, 2011

This, for no reason, is Pieraccioni the great Tuscan film director who is making a commedy in Lucca as I write.
CDMAL Rocks!

CDMAL stands for Cittidini del Mondo a Lucca which means citizens of the world in Lucca. I am so happy I could cry. I am also tipsy, so don't take me too seriously. I have finally found an expat group that appreciates Lucca but feel empowered enough to bitch about Italy; and the women know how to drink a cocktail, speak about art and politics, are totally bilingual and know the ropes a lot better than I do.  You don't understand how cool this is.  I went to an expat meeting once where all of the negative nellies talked about how they couldn't wait to get back across the pond; I went to a different expat meeting where a guy with crazy eyes gave me the creeps; and now I have finally found a group that has deciphered CODE Lucca and know all the stuff that I have always wanted to know.  I get misty eyed when I think about all of the concerts and Campari and gallery openings and cosmopolitan dish I have missed out on up until now.

Highlights: The sister- in-law of the Tommy Hilfiger twins showed up and cautioned me about moving too fast with our new business venture and about trying to use these kinds of groups as some kind of business platform, both of which are certainly sage advice.  I liked her; she was straight forward and honest.  She used to be the president of this group, but now has so many exciting work challenges developing these IT ready pre fab accomodations that she doesn't have time.  I don't know what I just said either if I'm being honest, but I just drank a white wine and a Campari on an empty stomach.
 
Anyway, she had to step down and now this woman who leads the Music Together groups of Lucca is in charge.  We fled the pre-school Music Together groups in Park Slope because T when she was two had a really hard time being forced to give up the shake-a shake-a eggs by a militant overall wearing hippie named Chava who was otherwise nice and earth-mothery but who insisted upon the prompt return of these attractive props. The shake-a shake-a eggs are blue plastic filled with organic plastic rice or something that fit neatly into a toddler's palm and can be used as a percussion instrument, but they are as addictive as baby crack and we had to leave the group in disgrace.  Thus T continues to struggle in music class. Damn you shake-a shake-a eggs! But anyway in Lucca they are much more humane about this practice. She used to be an opera singer and she knows everyone who I would ever want to know and she speaks Italian the way I don't even dare to dream of speaking it ten years from now. And her favorite bar is right across the piazza from me which means that when no one else more exciting than me is available, she just might invite me for a coffee.

This, for no reason, is Amy Winehouse.  Anyone shocked that she  canceled her concert in Lucca? Even in the publicity poster you can practically see the several pairs of hands that are holding her up for the photo. . . Sadly, she was the only artist in the summer festival that I was tempted to spend big euros for a ticket on. . . since I can hear all the concerts from my bathroom window.


Back to CDMAL: There is an elegant English woman who runs a book club and seems to know how to enjoy life a lot better than I do. And that is why, friends, I am going to read the whole book on Kindle tonight and possibly even find crib notes just so I can go to the book club discussion on Wednesday.

Speaking of books, there was this woman who is half from Florence and half from New York and she speaks both languages with the perfect native inflections.  She gave me a book from this shelf in the lounge of the Hotel Universo, where we had even more drinks. She made something called a Book Crossing where you can take a book, give the desk guy the code for it, and then when you are done leave it on a train or something so that it can be tracked along its journey from one mind to the next. I've been trying to tell you how cool Lucca is, but that there is proof. She has a white, scruffy terrier who is also bilingual. My favorite moment is when she had to pretend not to be laughing at a joke so that she could scold him with an authoritative Caesar the Dog Whisperer tone of voice. She is definitely BFF material because I can tell you right now that no matter how raw I can be, none of it would scare her. Not one little bit.

Now if I can just sell something we have in the apartment to come up with the 49 euro it costs to join, we are golden. . .
This, for no reason, is Elisabetta Canalis. Finally, Elisabetta is mine, I tell you, all mine -- K

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