Saturday, December 17, 2011

Purple Rain
Yesterday we had the kind of thunderstorms all day that render umbrellas completely useless. Therefore, after teaching my class for one whole person who was brave enough to come out in that wet mess, I limped home with my umbrella reversed, cursing under my breath with all of the Old McDonald had a Farm animal-centered Italian curses I could come up with.

Finally in bed, after a day of waking up early to visit our accountant/ commercialista, only to find out that tax season is in May not in February like I had heard, and bringing Christmas cupcakes to our florist friends and my friends at the hair salon, I was not too keen on getting dressed up to go to F's new friend Alessandro's dinner party. T, my unpaid stylist, got me dressed and did my eye make-up. I did just inherit a bunch of clothes from my friend Adonella that I have been dying to try out. I may have been a bit overdressed in the end, but you never know here if they mean informal when they say informal. On our way to Alessandro and Barbara's, we saw that the church of San Michele is now lit up in purple with beautiful stars like a Prince MTV video from the 90s. The party was in a cool loft style apartment and the food was delicious, and, thankfully, not a sit down affair.

There were 2 Alessandros and 2 Marcos. This makes things more & less confusing.

To give you an idea of how small Lucca life can be, it turned out that one guest is a relative of my boss at Happy gym and the other who is the hostess' cousin is the niece of our neighbors around the corner.  Ironically, my intensivo is now cancelled at Happy Gym, but at least the rehearsal for the show at the high school is now pushed back until noon Saturday. I have a less insane number planned that the other teachers will do with me to Justin Bieber and Busta Rhyme's version of The Little Drummer Boy.

There was one guy at the party with long sideburns who F admitted to me he could not understand at all.  It turned out that this guy's Italian came out of his mouth without his ever changing the shape of his upper lip. When he opened and closed his mouth it looked like two straight lines slapping together over and over again. We decided he was the Italian judge muppet from the Muppet Show who used to sing the opening number. This made us giggle uncontrollably.

The moral of this story is that everyone is tired, but if you get invited to a party you should go, go, go.

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