I’m writing with a heart partially broken, I’d been working on a draft for DAYS and I was about to publish and guess what happened- it disappeared! So you’ll have to forgive me for the fast and furiousness of this post as I am having to write it all over again. Curses to you, wordpress!
Maybe this is symbolic? In the draft which is no more, I had delved into how I feel about starting over in a sense in regards towards my next step in life, which will involve more of San Francisco (stay tuned!) So perhaps this is a taste of what is to ensue over the next several months. Putting energy into something new only for it to dissipate into thin air. Picking yourself up despite the discouragement, and muster the energy back to the drawing board. Good ol’ trial and error, lesson learning and all that! Continue Reading →
Vogue’s Fashion Night Out is basically the night where I realize how much I am not “with it,” my outfits probably make no sense and that I should eat rice cakes and fat free yogurt for the rest of my life. It also painfully reminds me how much I cannot wear heals and how Florentines put the icing on the glitz and glamour cake. I may sound like an embittered Daria, but let’s face it- Italians and their well-dressed immaculate put-togetherness makes us question our outwardly presented existence. Unless you are one of those people who moved here and learned how to emulate the well-dressed gods who grace these Renaissance streets, you probably know exactly what I am talking about. To be diplomatic at best, it is a night filled with flashy events, openings and shows, albeit shoving along the jam packed boulevards getting from one palazzo to the next. Continue Reading →
Ah! Yes! The craft bar scene is finally making a decent presence in Florence! Since I moved in 2012, I have noticed craft brew pubs pop up and that made my Seattle soul glimmer with hope. Hope in that this over-termed “Renaissance Pearl” is getting with the times. In Seattle, I was constantly charmed by craft cocktail spots like Canon Seattle and Knee High Stocking Co. and that love affair with bitter imbibements came to a screeching halt when I arrived in Florence. I missed my bitter old man drinks for my tortured gluttonous soul. Little by little, I discovered bitter bars but only to be heartbroken when one of my favorites (THE Bitterbar, where I actually practiced performing a wedding at) closed their doors to a likewise closed city of Chianti sluggers. Florentines have their habitual ways and it has been my observation that they are not very warm to anything beyond the ordinary. Unless they are the artsy, hipster type. Even then, these kids got lots to learn about living “avant-guarde.” Pardon the extremely opinionated banter, I warned you of my bitter old man ways. Continue Reading →
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