Sunday, January 22, 2012

Scema
scema is basically an idiot. And I was scema when I described the part about meeting with my friend the erborista's guru guy because it turns out that he helped her through a really hard time and they have been friends for twenty years. With my luck he really is super tight with Jesus and Buddha and Krishna and all of the omnipresent sources of love and I have been making fun of him in my blog out of my sheer badness and superficiality. Occasionally my NY sense of paranoia comes into play when I confront the Lucchese defensive poker mask faces and I think the worst of people or think that they think the worst of me without really having any proof one way or the other.

Here is a random picture of our friend Fabio who lives in a convent and has a rainbow on his face.
Anyway, I believe her a hundred percent that he was trying to help me and that probably I didn't really get the full gist of a lot of what he said. So I officially apologize for being scema.  In fact, my erborista told me that I should take care of myself by going to take a walk in nature. And, going for Lucchese directness, I told her that she should know better than anyone that the last thing a depressed person wants to do is taking a f--king/fottuta walk in nature. Then she reminded me that I had encouraged her to do just that and, despite being full of reluctance, she did it. So anyway that was basically me being loved by some really Italian people and me loving them back. Scema.

P.S. Isn't it the most Italian thing ever that here people say Ti Voglio Bene or I want you well instead of I love you most of the time? T goes by just the initials nowadays as all the young people do: T.V.B. I can't help thinking if you don't love someone anymore in Italy does that mean you don't want them well anymore because that's kind of deep.

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