It’s been quite the trip and we’re going back to the States on Monday. Vincenzo never adjusted to the 8-hour time difference, and he even got sick with a high fever and we had to take him to the Children’s Hospital Bambin Gesù. He’s all better now, but we’re going to need a vacation to recover from our vacation! To start with the 15 hours in flight I spent with him all by myself to bring him over, since Alessandro had already arrived a couple weeks early.

We’re bringing back a ton of stuff in our luggage, not the least of which is a nearly 11 pound slab of shrink-wrapped prosciutto.

The arrotino passed by this morning, the one that has the recording trying to lure the “donne! donne!” out of their houses and down to sharpen their prosciutto knives. Remember when I caught my neighborhood arrotino in the act below my window?

Turns out his name is Michele Muzio and here’s a really fantastic little film about him. It’s a fascinating story of a dying trade and beautifully done. Take a look:

I went back to Trastevere last night for the first time in eight months and ate dinner with a dear friend at Enzo’s. Heavenly. I had missed the olive ascolane.

Did some shopping and saw that Amarena Chic moved over to Via del Corso.

See what I mean? It feels like all I can do anymore is just link back to what I’ve already said.

It’s strange when you live in the country for nearly a year and come back to the city. Everything seems totally different and I feel completely out of place! City living is something else and once I stepped out of it, I feel like I don’t really belong anymore.

It’s been great seeing family and friends that had become photos and blurbs on Facebook. It’s been crazy trying to get everything in.

Who knows if we’ll actually come back here to live? The tide seems to be turning more towards staying in the States, but of course Rome is our home as well so we’ll always be back.

I brought my camera but forgot the battery charger! Just as well I guess. Although I would have really liked to have shown you the sheep crossing the Via Appia Antica the other morning. Shepherds! In the center of Rome! Who would’ve thought?

I’ll go have my Italian breakfast now, caffè latte and fette biscottate. And try to figure out how to wedge in the remaining suitcases the two bottles of amaro and jars of Brioschi among the bags of caffè and chunk of speck. !! And that’s just the start of it, trust me.

If I ever move back I promise I’ll revive the blog! Wish us luck for the long trip back home.

She’s baaaaaack!

I woke up at 1:45 am with jet lag and was unable to fall back sleep. This gives me ample time to mindlessly surf the web and ponder the important mysteries of life.

Such as last night’s big news on the telegiornale: scratch n’ sniff figurines have “intoxicated” several children and their teacher.

I shouldn’t make fun.

But I will.

These figurines, called “Skifidol Puzz” (my best guess is it’s some kind of play on “schifo” which means disgusting, and “puzza” which means stink, so something akin to “stinky disgusting dolls”, fun marketing, no??), were basically, well, stinky disgusting dolls. Actually from what I can understand, I think it was like little figurines that came with stinky cards, or something along those lines. As the above-cited article reports:

Le carte emanano odori nauseabondi come vomito, uovo marcio ed escrementi quando vengono grattate e, anche se sulla bustina è scritto che il prodotto è consigliato ai maggiori di 12 anni, neanche gli adulti ne rimangono immuni

“When scratched, the cards emanate nauseating odors like vomit, rotten egg, and excrement, and, even though the packages said that the product is recommended for those 12 years of age and older, not even adults were immune to them.”

Apparently the symptoms were burning eyes and sore throats, and I guess the kids, at least some of them, ended up going to the hospital.

The manufacturer? They’re claiming it’s all just “autosuggestione,” which basically means they were psychosomatic symptoms due to the scope of the game, which is basically to gross you out. In fact, on last night’s news they played a clip of a commercial and the slogan was “strofina e svieni!” which means “scratch and faint!”

Hey, don’t say you weren’t warned.

Personally I’ve always wanted to play with cards that smell like vomit and rotten eggs, haven’t you? (The excrement part is handily taken care of by my 13-month old.)

Viva il marketing italiana!!

This is also the first time in 7 years that I’ll be visiting Rome instead of visiting the States.

When I would go back to the States for a visit after 6 months to a year away, I did what I think many expats I know do. I would bring an empty suitcase and fill it with what appeared to the untrained eye to be a variety of nonsense. Examples? Oh, how about toothpaste, for a start? Tired of having to buy a new tube every 3 weeks (do Italians just use less toothpaste, or what?) due to the miniscule size of the tube, I’d stock up on “American size” (read: huge) tubes of toothpaste. And all kinds of other toiletries for that matter, contact lens solution, deodorant… it was all cheaper and more abundantly sized. Ziploc bags, yep, love those and strangely still haven’t been able to find an equivalent in Rome. Books in English. Random food items like Oreos (although now you can find those in the supermercato), Hot Tamales, and whatever seasonal candy item was available (candy corn, candy canes, Sweethearts… you get the idea). Sigh. Just thinking about how excited I used to get for my US shopping sprees brings a bit of nostalgia to my heart.

So, what the heck? Now it’s in reverse! Things to get, things to do, people to see… all backwards.

Still bringing the empty suitcase. Here’s what I think I’ll fill it with, for starters:

1) Italian reading material. I probably won’t really get around to reading it, but there’s this need in me to “keep up my skills” although, let’s face it, I barely have time for English reading material nowadays.

2) Marvis toothpaste. One of my best expat buddies recently sent me a care package with some of this and it’s like how I viewed peanut butter after I moved away from the States. Didn’t really use it too much while I was in Italy although I liked it, but grew to appreciate it more once I couldn’t get it. Which I realize totally contradicts my above rant about toothpaste, but hey, that’s my poetic license.

3) Geffer and Diger-Selz. Two of the OTC cure-alls that I most ridiculed and now most desire when I feel sick to my stomach.

4) Chocolate Easter eggs. Only in Italy. Guess that fulfills my reverse craving for seasonal sweets. I want to bring them back as souvenirs for some friends and family here, but I have no idea how to accomplish that without them getting totally crushed in the process.

5) Macine, those heavenly cookies from Mulino Bianco. Nothing like Macine in a cup of tea or a homemade caffè latte. Unfortunately I no longer have the 60 steps to get to my front door to keep me in shape, but that’s another matter entirely.

I guess that will do for getting the list started. On to places to visit:

1) Some place called Bir & Fud? I got tipped off to a new pizza place in Trastevere and I will don my old blogging hat for this one. Beware Bir & Fud, I am coming! I’ll be the margherita with pepperoncino.

2) Fior di Luna and Gelarmony. Say no more.

3) Er Trasteverino. This is that bar with the cute bar boys, about whom I wrote a post but that would be found on my now-defunct “Almost Roman” blog. I lost my steam. I lost my mojo. (I just always wanted a reason to talk about “my mojo” as if I have some of this mythical quality… like Muddy Waters… now I digress.) RIP Quasi Romana, but viva Gianni e Alessandro! Mi siete mancati tanto, non sapete che sto arrivando, ragazzi, arrivo!!!

4) My favorite pizza al taglio, which shamefully I can’t even remember the name of at this moment, help me out here, that one by Piazza Trilussa, vicolo del R something? O Gesù. This is bad. I could look it up on a map but I’m too lazy. We’ll come back to this one.

5) Vizi Capitali, maybe. I kind of like this place for a girl’s night out. Speaking of that, let’s throw in a few aperitivi. My dear, where shall we meet? Freni e Frizioni? You know all the great places, so I’m counting on you. Mojito mojito!

6) Alberto! Alberto! Alberto! And also because: Alberto! So that I can go back to being a redhead. A red henna head.

Oh, enough of my rambling. I guess I’m a bit giddy and nervous about my first time back. I promise I’ll take my camera and my blogging eye and hopefully I can dig up a couple posts for those of you who have stuck by me on this side of the ocean.

P.S. Bonus points if I can score a picture with the sparkly red top-hatted mago of Trastevere or get a video of him with his bullhorn yelling “A-O, A-O, na na na O!” because that would really cheer me up on a gray Seattle day. Bonus points if I go drop in on my (former, how sad) ob/gyn at Fatebenefratelli, because I still have a mad crush on him that, like the peanut butter and toothpaste, somehow didn’t really exist until I didn’t get to see him once a month anymore. Bonus points if I lose some of these extra pounds (I gained 10 when I moved back). Bonus points if I get insulted by a grocery store clerk. Bonus points to the first person who wants spicci. Bonus points if anyone says “copriti bene” or gives me unsolicited advice about how to raise my son.

Rome, I guess I really do miss you after all… have you missed me too?

So here’s the deal. A couple months ago I was trying to print out a PDF from the ENI website (ENI supplies residential natural gas and electricity), of my accounts for the utilities at the apartments we are renting in Rome. Should be simple, no? But every time I clicked on the PDF symbol, it was grayed out and wouldn’t print, or wouldn’t even open up the statement I needed to print.

Lo and behold, there was this “email us” type of icon and I thought, oh, why the hell not… I mean, they put it there, let’s give it a whirl.

Actually to be honest, it was Alessandro who encouraged me to send an email while I gave him a hearty dose of my “you’re quite crazy” laugh and typed out my humble request. The funny thing about living in the States is that it has rendered him completely amnesiac to the way things don’t work in Italy, so comfortable has he become with the “then may I please speak with your manager, get that for free, and will you serve me breakfast in bed while you’re at it” customer-service-with-a-smile philosophy here in the U.S. of A.

Well, of course you can easily predict the rest: I never got a response and I forgot all about the damn PDF problem, and I just copied down what I needed from the screen that same night, knowing full well my email had drifted off into the land of forgotten emails, some dungeon warehouse deep in the ENI building. Because you just KNOW, in true Italian efficiency, that those bastards are receiving the emails, printing the damn things out, and cataloguing them in big archive boxes down in the basement. Right? I mean, how many of you who have worked in Italy have emailed someone for something pertaining to a business transaction (like hotel reservations or something of that nature) and once everything is confirmed online, they then ask you to PRINT your email, SIGN it, and FAX it to them? Oh, people. Don’t EVEN get me started. This happens way too often.

But wait! What is this that I spy in my email inbox today? A mere two months later??

Look at this, people, just look at it! If you read Italian, then have a good laugh in advance before I translate it:

R: Servizio Clienti Richiesta nr. 1-259815581

Gentile Cliente,

la informiamo che il problema relativo alla funzionalità PDF è già noto:
stiamo provvedendo a renderla disponibile per le nuove fatture che verranno
emesse nei prossimi mesi.

Per la Sua richiesta, La informiamo che dovrà compilare
il form “Altre Informazioni” nell’area “Contatti” del sito
www.famiglia.eni.it, al fine di poter inoltrare la Sua richiesta
direttamente alla funzione competente, che verificherà e darà
corso a quanto da Lei richiesto.

Scusandoci per il ritardo, cogliamo l’occasione per porgerle
Cordiali saluti.

Servizio Clienti

Oh my God this is so awesome I can barely contain myself.

Not only did they find it in their hearts to respond to my request just a couple months after I wrote via email, they also thought it would be cute to respond by saying that they are already aware of the problem, they’re working on it (just for future invoices however), and what I really have to do to get a printout is to fill out some other online form WHEREIN the “competent official” will then bestow upon me “that which I have requested.”

By the way, “sorry for the delay and let us take this occasion to send your our most cordial salutations” (this is the usual sign off, I love it, that’s how I like to translate cordiali saluti, not sure how you would really say it, but it is just so fun, cordial salutations). Sorry for the delay? Ha!

Oh Italy, sometimes I really do miss you, for these bureaucratical farces that make such a mockery of the simple things in life. My humble request got a number like 1-259815581? Oh for the love! I’m sure it took longer to assign the 10-digit email request classification number than it would have for them to just fix the silly PDF problem.

And as far as “Fill out another online form” goes? As if!

God bless them! They’re online and ready to serve your needs!! Now all we need is online customer service with Poste Italiane. Ah, yes, that’ll be the day! Hell, for all I know they already have it. They’re probably working on requests from 2001 as we speak…