2:08

I feel like a stalker. I am sitting in the car, waiting for a more appropriate hour to enter Eva's nursery-school/daycare. Approaching the school from outside always reminds me of an insane asylum- you hear nothing but screams, yells, crying and wailing. Today she stayed the longest stretch thus far 9-230. It allowed me some time to go to the embassy and get some things done around the house. Such accomplishments without guilt give me a false sense of hope that on Monday when I finally go back to work, things won't be so bad. Who knows how it will turn out, whether I crumble after the first day or whether my sense of duty to work and family will spur me on. A thought occured to me today, if I can stand working and being away from Eva for so much time, we'll be able to save money for her; for college, a car, hell even her wedding! Maybe this is just my way of justifying being away from her.

Little America?

Until today I had never been to the American Embassy in Rome. thankfully i had no reason to go there- i.e. no lost/stolen passport. Though, I must say, I wouldn't turn down a job if they begged me to come.

I went to the embassy, checkbook in hand (I had read that the fee for citizenship is $460!), forms filled out and with two 2x2 photos of a little person with blue eyes and light brown hair who somewhat resembles me. I went to apply for Eva's American citizenship. I expected (and strangely looked forward to) a little island of americana (men with kakhi pants, polo shirts, and blackberries on their hips, people with American coffee breath)removed from the reckless roman driving and glitzy hotels and cafes of Via Venteto inside those great walls; and it started out that way: I had to take off my shoes and go through a metal detector before they let me in. But I can tell you now though, that I did not speak to one American (not that there is anything wrong with that (Seinfeld anyone?))and the forms I had filled out were all wrong and whole new set of forms was given to me. When I finally finished getting the information I needed I went back to security to pick up my cell phone and ipod (such things are not allowed in the embassy)and what do you know, both security guards were on their cell phones! I had certainly never left Italy.

Little Eva will have to wait just a little longer for her blue passport with the birdy on it.

leaps and bounds

eva is growing by leaps and bounds, or rather by kicks and swats.

today i have the innkling that eva will grow up to be a champion soccer player. i presented her with a ball (red, blue, green, and yellow with a happy face on the yellow quarter of the ball, that rattles when you shake it) on her three month birthday and now a week later she is interested in it. i propped her up on the bed after her late afternoon lunch and 'gave' her the ball. she grabbed for it in earnest and (with mommy's help)pulled it to her mouth for a taste before it fell from her uncoordinated little hands. we repeated this several times; she was getting more hyped up each time i placed the ball in front of her (yes, grandma, i gave it to her midline) making little yelps of excitement until the unthinkable happened. The ball fell down right in between her stretched out legs, not to the left or the right but directly in front of her. She looked down in amazement, stretched her arms out to the side and with great concentration began kicking the ball back and forth between her legs- of course we are talking about a distance of a few centimeters but nevertheless she was juggling the ball. I started to wonder after the 10th ball drop from hands to mouth to legs, if I should be worried that she seems to have much more dexterity with her legs than her hands, but the thought disappeared from my mind as quickly as it came because Eva was demonstrating herself to be something like a three month-old Mia Hamm.

today was the eighth day of nursery school for eva. it seems like she is already growing up and the great abyss that grows between mother and child (until the child finally accepts the parent as just another person in the world who pro-created and not an all-perfect-all-knowing being)is widening too fast.

i'll never know what the right answer is to the question, should i stay home or should i go back to work?

stealing time

eva is napping her way through a growth spurt. so here i am.

i swear every time i go in to check on her, she is longer. she is filling up the crib that we put her in only two weeks ago. being a new mother is trying at times- i can't get eva to fall asleep on her own, she finds comfort only with her face buried in my collar bone (i can't imagine that being comfortable at all) and i am convinced she will have a flat head all her life since she is strongly opposed to 'tummy-time' during playtime- but the moments when after a nap she tries her hardest to speak to me, saying things like 'mao' and 'ayo' i forget all about how much my back hurts and how crazy i am making myself with internet research and reading baby's-first-year books.

the next three weeks are going to be a prelude to torture. i'm going back to work at the beginning of october and, at three and a half months old eva will start daycare. boo. for now i am stealing time.

one month on the outside

Today is Eva's one month birthday. I woke up happy, told her several times it was her birthday( though she can't understand the words I say and can barely see me), optimistically breastfed her (i have a waning milk supply apparently)and put her down for a morning nap- which she did so most dutifully. This one month old thing is starting out great, I thought to myself.

Two and half hours later she woke with little cries- nothing crazy- and I so checked on her. There was evidence a major diaper change needed as I felt her mushy diaper..and I was right. The poor kid had filled the diaper up with 'pupu liquida' (as the pampers package describes it). A baby bidet was necessary, so I did it, got through it ok as I introduced Eva to herself in the mirror while wiping the the poop off her bum. I got her dressed again and it was time to eat- and boy, did she eat. A 20 minute breastfeeding session, 100ml of formula, and then she cried for more with her beguilingly cute frown and her little chicken looking rooting reflex. I didn't have the heart to deny her anything on her birthday so I made her a bit more formula. She didn't drink too much of it but it did the trick and soon we were off into staring-contest-land where we stare into each other's big blue eyes and wonder what the other is thinking. Actually, I know Eva is not thinking anything. Babies don't have thoughts at this age, they don't have a sense of self, nor do they know who the people are that are taking care of them, i.e. mom and dad. In any case, during our staring contest, strange sounds erupted from below and I knew there would be yet another liquid brown present waiting for me at the next diaper change. I took Eva in to change her- she was her normal docile self when she makes a big poop, waiting patiently to be finished with the change, sometimes trying to stick her foot in it. I was so pleased with her that I wrapped her up in a blanket afterward and bounced her to sing happy birthday. The next thing I know that extra milk I could not bear not giving her was spewing out of her mouth and nose Exorcist-style. It scared the hell out of me to something come out of my little alien's nose. I took her to the bathroom for the second baby bath- it wasn't even 1pm.

Note to self: no over zealous bouncing after over zealous feeding sessions.

It is now 2:30pm and Eva has finally fallen asleep, I can now wash the smelly baby barf off me and eat some lunch an ponder my terrible mothering skills. Happy 1 Month Birthday, Eva.

three weeks and six days

On June 16 at 6:37 pm the waiting ended. After a much more painful than I expected, but short labor, Eva Marie Tomassini came into the world. It was worth every scream, pain, contraction, morning sickness vomit, and sleepless night of the last nine months. She is beautiful- even if I am partial in being her mother I'll say it anyway. More importantly, she is healthy. Max and I are still tripping on the fact that the two of us did something so amazing and beautiful and our love for her grows everyday.

On Friday, Eva will be a month old. Her month in her new world has been eventful. Grandma and Grandpa came from California to stay with us and we all came down with a terrible stomach flu on Eva's one week birthday (except for Eva, thankfully), we celebrated Eva's cousin Tamara's 18th birthday and we are now having our first visit from one of Eva's uncles: Brian. Aside from the big events, it is the small things that amaze me still more. Eva's little noises, her cuter-than-you-can imagine yawns, and her heart-stopping cries from hunger, tummyaches, and dirty diapers. She is growing before my eyes and has already grown out of her newborn clothes. I felt a twinge of sadness as I snapped the buttons last week on a t-shirt that had already gotten tight on the long and slender body of the little alien that now sleeps beside my bed every night. This may only be the beginning of her growing up and becoming independent of her mommy and papa' but I can't wait for all of the days in between in which she'll amaze us without end.

Rome is hot in the summer, especially this summer. Our pediatrician warned us against letting the baby sweat. I have never put the question to myself before, 'what is the physiological meaning of a baby sweating?' but apparently it is bad news. Thank god for air conditioning. Brian and I decided to take Eva on an adventure yesterday morning- on the bus into town for lunch. I over packed Eva's bag with diapers and bottles and toys and blankets, we put her in the carriage, attached the umbrella I had bought the day before to shield from the sun and we were off. But by the time we got near the bus stop 15 minutes later all three of us required a second shower of the day from the sweat that was soaking through our clothes. I called our trek off to avoid the 'systemic collapse' of my daughter (as the pediatrician put it) and decided it was best to take Brian and Eva in the air-conditioned car- it was 90 degrees at 11 am- in to the city. We didn't end up going to lunch for fear of more sweating. I dropped Brian off for some Roman site-seeing and took Eva straight home. This was our first trip alone in the car together and I was scared (this was marginally lower on the fear scale than making her suffer in the heat). What if she chokes? What if she gets sunburned from the sun beating in to the car? What if she finds a way to strangle herself on the straps of the carseat? I had to will myself just to keep driving- telling myself it was better to just to keep going and get home asap.

The harrowing 20 minute journey through the gauntlet of Roman traffic, tight windy roads, and crazy motorini drivers finally ended and we go home safe and sound. I amazed myself with all the things I could carry up to the house in one trip with only two arms, in addition to Eva, and still succeed in opening the front door. Once in the house, I cranked up the AC fed the alien and we both passed out. The day had ended and it was only 1pm.

the hospital

we went this morning for the third time to have the baby's heartbeat monitored. this time we met the obstetrician who hopefully be delivering our little bundle of joy. its funny how you can feel so singular at a time like this, like your experience is unique, and then you hear the screams of other people's newly born kids and you realize there is nothing unique about it at all. people have kids everyday.

the obstetrician left me alone in a room with a fetal heart monitor for about 20 minutes and i watched my belly move in waves up and down while the baby enjoyed herself inside the womb- or at least that is what i'd like to believe. who knows if she is enjoying herself- she'll never be able to tell me what it was like to be inside by uterus for nine months, just like i can't tell my mother. in any case, the obstetrician returned and upon examination of the print-out told me that her heartbeat was perfect, "by the book" were her exact words. i somehow felt proud, like this was something the baby meant to do, that she was already an over-achiever...

and so the waiting begins...

today is may 31, my grandfather's birthday. he would be 99 years old.

today also marks the beginning of waiting for the little one inside of me to make her big entrance into the world. my last day of work was friday and through exhaustion and swollen feet, i was relieved. now, only three days later, i wonder how i am going to stand the suspense until it finally happens. i am also starting to feel guilty about just being here at home, not really doing anything except for what i want to be doing...especially when i don't really know what that is.

i have all of the worries and fears anyone could have, and more. have i prepared enough? have i taken good enough care of myself to insure that she is healthy? did all of those months of blood tests and ultrasounds really prove anything about how she is? is she really going to be fine? max continues to assure me that she is.

i do know that her presence in my belly these past nine months has brought tremendous joy to us and our families: my parents becoming grandparents for the first time, max's dad becoming a grandfather for the fourth time perhaps when he least expected it; these account for only three of the many lives our child has touched and she hasn't even been born yet. she'll have aunts and cousins to dote on her, uncles to teach her about life and tell her dirty jokes, and a father and mother who adore her. i can't wait to meet her. exactly 14 days separate us from our meeting her (if all goes well that is) and i don't know how i'm going to stand it!

Nonno Manlio's beautiful drawings start to fill up the room...and tiny little clothes hang out to dry...waiting for someone to come home and put them on.

12 weeks

i worry constantly. is this going to make the child neurotic too? probably. i won't rest until i know he or she is safe. at this early stage, though i am still getting used to no aperitivo after work, no sharing fantastic bottles of wine over romantic dinners in strange and new cities with my love, no staying out late, and no more being irresponsible; i am getting used to the idea that i am going to be someone's mom. i want to teach him/her everything there is to know. i want him to be curious about the world and go out and conquer it and save it. i want her to be the strongest woman she can be and never back down from a challenge. and most of all i want to hug her and kiss her and make her feel safe when she is scared. i want him to know that no one else on earth loves him like his mom and dad love him.

in the meantime i worry. we have accepted the doctor's offer to be guinea pigs in a project making a video of the growth and development of a child inside the woman. i am ecstatic. this means i get to see the baby even more often and learn things about him or her that perhaps any other mothers might never know. papa' approaches the situation with trepidation. his love for me perhaps has allowed him to accept this adventure that perhaps he might have shyed away from.

let's keep our finger crossed and get some food. i am starving.

a new day a new life

with every new day we are offered new opportunities and new ways to live life, to appreciate it, to enjoy it. on oct 17th, after a roller coaster 24 hours of fighting and loving, i took a pregnancy test. as i saw the second pink line come into view, my life flashed before my eyes. this, is what i had wanted since i met him- the biological need to re-create had gotten the best of us- but it scared the hell out of me.

since that night, life has been filled with joy, fear, happiness, anger, tears and love. i wanted it to happen but could/can hardly believe it is happening. kind of like when something else major and life changing and positive happens and kicks you up a notch into a world you always imagined but only in the present reality find yourself in.

when i look back, my adult life has been one risk after

rediscovering my adopted city

its corny and unoriginal, my experience, but it is nonetheless important.

four years. four years can seem like and eternity or a millisecond in which the eye blinks 100 times. my life has changed immensely but some things still remain true.

i work with people who are new to this city, every four months they come, stay, live, and then leave. my cynical, sarcastic side was at first less impressed with this turn-style phenomenon, but in the last two weeks I have rediscovered my city through their eyes. they are wowed every single second by it, but will leave it soon and continue their lives in another land and look back on this place as a magical one.

things you just don't see in the united states

ok so i just got back from a quick run to the panino and frullati shop for lunch where the guy behind the bar flirted-slash-was nice to me for the first time- i have been going to this sandwich shop intermittently for the last year and a half and the guys who make the smoothies are always super gruff. so, i get my sandwich and my smoothie only after waiting a short while and having five more pushy people get their smoothies before me.

the thing is, on this normal day where i skip out for fifteen minute lunch, on my way to the sandwich shop i saw something which to me has become incredibly common but simultaneously disturbing. i saw a guy sitting on skateboard padding around with a pair of shoes on his hands and a crumpled paper cup in his hand. why you ask? the answer is personal. i was born with what are called 'club feet', who knows what they are actually called, but I was born like these 'gypsies' (otherwise known to civilized people as 'Rom') riding around on skateboards. my feet were turned in and my heels basically did non exist. Without the operations as a small child, I would have never walked, let alone run, dance, or skip.

Democrats Abroad

Feb 11 2008

I watch from afar the race to the whitehouse. Sometimes, thankfully so and most others longing to be involved somehow. I have a b grade degree and a b average in political science, but I can still think. Anyway, I am here in Rome and happy 'as a bug in a rug', although i don't know however that meant to describe something happy, couldn't a bug be killed that way, hiding in a rug? boh. in any case , i have a love hate relationship with american politics and the american media machine for the moment. without the media i wouldn't get to see anything that is going on but at the same time, i am tired of seeing hillary clinton's face and hearing about mccain's dirty campaign dealings. i want more barack. can we have a barack news network only?

22 may 2008

if you haven't read either of barack's (yes we are on a first name basis) books go buy them, borrow them from a friend, download them illegally- whatever you have to do and find out why this man should be president. he really should.

in italy there is racism and xenophobia. to some extent the nationalist, albeit fascist, leanings of italians have not yet begun to fade, since the departure of mussolini. Although it sometimes offends my American senses, I understand it perfectly. This is Italy, the country of Italians, and it should continue to be so, otherwise what is the purpose of existing as Italy. This is not to say 'no-immigrants allowed' but, a country should preserve itself- be a realist, but not a hater. I am an immigrant, a voluntary immigrant at that. I do not belong here, but nevertheless I am here. I do not want to change Italy. I don't want American stuff, American stores, American pop culture or anything else to undermine the Italian-ness of Italy, otherwise I could have just stayed in America and ate pasta everynight. This suggests to me an idea about my own country- but America is built on diversity. Not a free-wheeling do whatever the f you want diversity but one that says, 'hey come to this country, be yourself, but adopt this idea of treating everyone with respect, obeying our laws, working hard and succeeding.' Nowhere else in the world to immigrants have the right to protest but in America. This is major, but shouldn't be taken advantage of. I can't complain to the Italian government about anything about my life, because frankly I shouldn't be here and it shouldn't change for me because I want it to. I don't deny anyone a better life if they want it and are willing to work and color inside the lines for it, but I don't expect a free lunch either.

i don't know what this all means; this stuff pouring out of my head. i just know that i want everyone to have health insurance in America. That being able to live a healthy life shouldn't be a business that pharmaceutical and insurance companies get rich on- that's just sick. People should be given opportunities but should also be held responsible. i want to pay my taxes and i want to be honest. I want all kids to have a good education. I want everyone to have at least the opportunity to go to college (Italian public universities are free by the way). And I want everyone, no matter the color of their skin, the lilt of their accent, the amount of money they make a year, to be treated with equal respect and dignity. We are all different, let's revel in it, let's learn from it.

7 Ottobre 2007

Il giorno in cui una nuova vita è cominciata. I miei genitori non sono d'accordo ma non me lo diranno mai. Ho paura, ma con lui sento sicura, serena.

The first day of the rest of my life with the man that i love and adore passed with out much fanfare. i got in the car and said, ' well i guess i won't be sleeping there anymore.' he turned to me with a smile and the sparkly eyes that i live for and said, 'really? wow. ok. we'll have to celebrate.'

i miss you

this is no longer something crazy and ridiculous that i have 'gone off and done.' yes it's bloody hard here and sometimes i feel like just giving up, but then i remember that i am in one of the oldest cities in the world, i have my own office, and i love someone. not necessarily in that order of course. :p this is my life and not some crazy whim.

i wrote to a friend earlier this week in desperation telling her that i felt that i had lost part of myself. life has changed immensely, but almost without me knowing. how much i miss my friends and the comfort of their companionship, their silly jokes, and hearing about their lives dawned on me this week. true, it's not fair to a place like rome or a life like mine to say 'i give up. this is just too hard.' but sometimes i feel like saying it. maybe not necessarily doing it though. this life is my life now , my reality and although some may not agree, i am stuck with it. no more running away from the hard stuff. plus, anytime things get too hard, i have an amazing man to push me to keep going, to remind me how i got to where i am, and to make me laugh. laughter is important.

his professional life is getting more complicated as the days go by, and i am doing a job that i never imagined myself in. in any case, it's time for me to remember me. i have given myself this past year to us and almost nothing else. i don't see anything wrong in this, because there is no sense in only loving someone half-heartedly. now, though, i have to learn how to be a person and love him and be there for him at the same time. all of this in a country where i am still learning the language and can count my friends with three fingers. there is no one to blame here but myself, and in fact i can't even knowingly do that. i have found in him everything i need in someone else, so why should i not give every ounce of myself to him?

so yes. now i will write an article for my best friend's new magazine, i will send my resume to my brother in hopes of starting translation work, and i will write, finally, to the subtitling company to see if they have any openings for translators. it's time. i'm putting on my shoes, let's go.

Second year, third january

here i am finally writing again. it seems impossible, unthinkable, but yes i am still here. if it is possible to be in love with a place, rome is the place. last wednesday, january 3rd i celebrated a tiny anniversary that only i can celebrate. two years in rome. yes i have been home in these two years but, nevertheless rome has been the place where i hang my hat for the past two amazing, glorious, tumultuous years. yet rome is still more beautiful and old and crazy than it was the first time i came here in 2002. jesus almost 5 years ago.

i wanted to write about what happened in 2006 and how my life has changed tremendously, because of the presence of one person, but i recently confirmed a suspicion i've had about myself for many years: i am selfish. being selfish and insensitive, even without meaning or knowing that you are, puts you at risk of losing important people. so how can i write about what happened to me this year without sounding or being selfish? boh. i haven't figured it out yet. but being someone who has never been a resolution-maker, i know i will find it difficult to make myself become less selfish. but i will do it dammit!

in any case i can at least say that i spent a very special new year's in ljubljana (the capital of slovenia), christmas in milan, and many many amazing days and weeks in rome in 2006. i wrote in july when i 'graduated' from grad school and had just started an internship at the world food programme. i felt fortunate and lucky. but as of today, i feel even more blessed. i have just started a job working at the penn state study abroad office in rome. the job came to me through a series of serendipitous coincidences and the help of someone very important, nevertheless i am here. of course there is a three month trial period, 65% of my day is conducted in italian, and the job itself would be a challenge in english, but i am so excited about it. it is the most i could have hoped for, and if i succeed at it, it means that i will be here for a little while longer. so, i am praying.

so i have succeeded in talking about myself yet again, and thinking about myself yet again. so, in the interest of more selfless way of life, please let me know how you are doing especially if we haven't spoken in a long time. i really really want to know. if i can't stop being selfish, maybe i can convince others to join me in selfishness!

the first person on earth

i am the first person on earth to be smitten. or so it seems. everything i say, everything he says, is hilarious. everything we do together is the most fun, exciting, meaningful thing we've ever done in our lives. everything i feel or he feels, has never been felt before by another person and the depths to which we feel these things is more profound than we ever imagined ourselves capable.
ah yes it feels good to be unique. perhaps though just another trick the chemicals in your brain do to you when 'in love.' you are the best thing that has ever happened to this person and they, well, they are the best thing that could have ever happened to you. it feels nice. i never want to know what the opposite of this feels like. but i do not want to be blind or lost in a fog.

wait geez, who am i kidding, of course i want to be lost in the fog!

of course i am the first person on earth!

haha ok enough of this ridiculousness... i just learned how to put pics on my blog...finally. so get ready, soon you will be sick of seeing my face. above is photo taken in san benedetto del tronto/grottamare on the adriatic coast of italy.

A closing of some sorts

here i am, after many many months. it is friday july 21st, i have just put my mother on a train to Fiumicino Airport after a week here with me in Rome to celebrate my graduation from graduate school (although i do have two more papers to write before my degree is conferred). but since school is over and i am a fortunate girl, i find myself this morning in the world food program ( a un organization for those of you who don't know it) starting an internship passed down to me by a very dear friend. at this point,the only way i could be more fortunate is if i were making enough euro to survive on my own. i love my family and my friends and miss them like crazy but i am not ready to go back to the states. life is just different here, all the social rules are different and people are different, and it suits me for the moment. sure it's the summer and it's hot as hell here and the trains don't run on time, but if that is the worst part about life here, i'm in a good spot.

the closing i'm speaking of is my education. yes i do have two incompletes to write. one on the eastern european experience acceeding to the EU and the other on the 1994 zapatista revolution. if anyone knows any good books on these subjects, be sure to let me know. i'm struggling here. in any case, before i decide to go back to school yet again for an mba, i'm going to take a good long time off. for one, to pay my bills and two, a little free time. i loved doing this master's for about half the time, but got burned out very quickly. my advice to anyone looking to go back to school after having worked a few years...beware. don't blow all your energy at the beginning and don't get 'senioritis' at the end otherwise you'll be in trouble...

that's all for now...

i hope you've all seen the grad pics, if not send me an email and i'll gladly forward the link.

To: The People in My Life....

Here goes: People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person. When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a God send and they are.They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrong doing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done.

The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on. Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant. Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you were a reason, a season or a lifetime..

When Friends Leave

I've been in Rome for a little over a year now and have met many many people and have made many many friends. Some friends I'm sure I'll keep for many years to come and some not. One of the hardest things to get used to in this dream life in Rome, is the leaving of friends. Maybe you spend three or six months getting to know someone, and then one day they have disappeared from your everyday reality.

Helen, I only knew for four months before she returned to the land of reality. We met at orientatoin last January and it had just so happened that I had known her sister in a class at Hunter College in New York. We were fast friends and not only did we come to depend on each other as if we had known each other much longer than four months, but we also had great times together. We are totally unalike, I grew up in suburban LA and she in Queens. Helen comes from Phillipino roots rich in the tradition of family and Romanian background rought with Cold War mystery. Compared to her my life is a tragic straight line, from one point to the next. In any case, although I am terrible at keeping in touch we still manage to talk every few weeks. I miss her and wish her the best.

Next to leave, about ten months after I met him, was Matt. One of the savviest individuals I've met in a longtime, Matt is the bearer of more useless knowledge than I could have imagined existed. It was always a running joke with us, who has more Trivial Pursuit knowledge? In addition to Matt's intelligence, there is also his heart. He always amazed me with his way of making someone laugh when they didn't want to or didn't think they could. He knew how to look at situations analytically and his spin on things was always either helpful or so totally ridiculous, you forgot you had a problem...

Then there are L and K. I have to mention them together because they are total polar opposites, or as my academic hero would say 'they are diametrically opposed.' K a sensitive, lost in the clouds, positive thinker and L a realist with very few soft spots for anything were ying and yang. I think what drew them together was their common history. K an only child, grew up in privilege in Hong Kong and at the early age of 13 left her family and country for Britain. She attended a boarding school, complete with etiquette courses that still puzzle me today: introductions should always be carried out by introducing the woman to the man, not vice versa. After boarding school, K traveled even further from her roots and ended up in Connecticut for undergrad. After a few years of being a Manhattan wage-slave she came to Rome to do an MBA. L too was born into, what I would label as privilege, the only child of a well-off Croatian couple during the Cold War. Growing up, she was constantly at the top of her class and during the Balkan wars of the 90's developed a political sense not shared by many of her countrymen. One summer she traveled to Rome and met a fabulous Italian whom she believed she was in love with. By the next year she had enrolled in my program here in Rome and thought her future was cemented complete with Italian boyfriend and American master's degree. After a certain amount of time however, he managed to break her heart. All the sensitivity and idealism about romance left her heart. I don't believe she's been the same since. L is a pragmatist and sees postivity only when it's outside of herself (she refuses to recognize, at times, all the wonderful things about her own person). For this I know that we were always meant to be friends. K on the other hand is a dreamer and an emotional analyzer, and for this I know that we were also meant to be friends. It may be strange that these two women, so completely opposite could share a profound friendship, but what is more strange is that I identified with both of them and at some points in our friendship, bridged the gap between the two: a little realism and a little dreaminess always seemed to be the right balance. Very recently, both L and K completed their two and three year journeys in Rome. I was fortunate to know them each for a year and share some unique times with them, that I would have not otherwise experienced.

This school, this city, and my experience here has changed completely with the departures of these four friends. I'm glad though that our paths crossed for even the shortest of periods. I am a changed person because of their presences in my life.