I realize
that I don't really have an "about me" page like everybody else in Blogland seems to have . And as I am a tiny bit sick and wish for nothing more than to stay in bed and not think too much, this post could be that page.
So here goes.
I'm danish, female and 34 years old. I have been living in Italy for 14 of those years.
My mum says I'm almost Italian, but I know she says so because of my temper, not because I've been here for most of my adult life. I came here to work (hoping for model jobs, got some but realized that I'm not cut for that/not beautiful enough/not ambitious enough - it doesn't really matter anymore) and fell in love with an Italian. After two years we fell out of love, became very good friends and we still are.
He reads this blog and leaves sarcastic, flattering and funny comments on quite a few posts of mine. Hi Nix.
When I left him I had fallen badly in love with Italy, the food, the language, the culture, the climate, the wine and the whole chaotic meltin' pot of life that it is.
In Italy we have the following to say about living in Italy: "Anche quando si sta male, si sta bene". I can't really translate that but it means that even when life is bad, it is good.
And it makes sense.
When all the politicians turns out to be corrupted, doublefaced turncoats, when the government is raising the taxes yet again, when there's nothing in tv but old-should-have-been-forced-into-retiring-men flanked by stupid bimbos, then there's still that Spaghetti Carbonara to eat, that Barolo to drink, that painting to swoon over, those ruins to take for granted while you're walking your way 'round Rome, the handsome Italian men to court you (and yes, they do speak about Amore), those endless summer nights to live, countless aperitivi to enjoy and white beaches to frolick on.
We're going hellwards yeah, but f*ck it, we know how to do it with style in Italy.
I am getting carried away. Very appropriate; that was exactly what happened when I first came to Italy. I love it here. I miss Denmark once in a while, the seriousness of the Danish people, the sincerity, the organization. But it bores me to death. I miss the chaos, the life that thrives here in spite of, or maybe because of, that chaos.
Anyway.
Failing to be a model I took weekend dancing jobs in the discoteques and lived handsomely off that. I have had dancing jobs in Denmark as well, I worked on Blitz in Aarhus and X-Ray in Copenhagen. And by dancing jobs i *mean* dancing jobs, it sounds a lot worse, people expect lapdancing, sex and nakedness. We were good dancers, a happy bunch that enjoyed a good time and knew how to party, very often without alcohol and drugs. I stopped dancing for money 4 years ago but took a more appropriate job, hostess in the same discoteques where I worked before. I have a list with names on it; people that reserved a table. I take them to their table and wish them a good evening. I get good money for it and I get to stick around the discoteques i love so much.
At the same time I started to muck around with Photoshop, Illustrator and later Flash and After Effects. I became a graphic designer, and have stuck to that for... what... 10 years now ? Which means that I have worked a lot, doing a daytime job and working in the weekends as well. I like to think of myself as a passionate person, I love to do the things I love and I don't save myself. For the last two years I have been working as senior multimedia designer in Prato, close to Florence. And I love it. It's inspiring, creative and hard work but it is what I want to do, even though work is where i miss the Danish seriousness most. If I am ever considering coming back to Denmark, i think about it in terms of work.
Ok, and for my family as well. I have both my parents (in love as ever, i actually think that it influences the way I see *my* relationships - I tend to want perfection, I won't settle for nothing less than what my parents has got), I have 2 brothers, one older than me by 4 years, he's in love and cutely so. And then I have a younger brother who is married and have 2 beautiful and smart kids. I'm a lucky godmother to both.
I have a handful of very good friends, loads of acquaintances and one man.
I think he's here to stay. I realize that the perfect love doesn't exist of its own accord. I wake up every morning to an OK love, and I'm lucky as to have that. But it's up to me to make it perfect every day.
I think I'm learning.
And if I'm wrong, then I'm becoming a better person in the process for even trying.
So here goes.
I'm danish, female and 34 years old. I have been living in Italy for 14 of those years.
My mum says I'm almost Italian, but I know she says so because of my temper, not because I've been here for most of my adult life. I came here to work (hoping for model jobs, got some but realized that I'm not cut for that/not beautiful enough/not ambitious enough - it doesn't really matter anymore) and fell in love with an Italian. After two years we fell out of love, became very good friends and we still are.
He reads this blog and leaves sarcastic, flattering and funny comments on quite a few posts of mine. Hi Nix.
When I left him I had fallen badly in love with Italy, the food, the language, the culture, the climate, the wine and the whole chaotic meltin' pot of life that it is.
In Italy we have the following to say about living in Italy: "Anche quando si sta male, si sta bene". I can't really translate that but it means that even when life is bad, it is good.
And it makes sense.
When all the politicians turns out to be corrupted, doublefaced turncoats, when the government is raising the taxes yet again, when there's nothing in tv but old-should-have-been-forced-into-retiring-men flanked by stupid bimbos, then there's still that Spaghetti Carbonara to eat, that Barolo to drink, that painting to swoon over, those ruins to take for granted while you're walking your way 'round Rome, the handsome Italian men to court you (and yes, they do speak about Amore), those endless summer nights to live, countless aperitivi to enjoy and white beaches to frolick on.
We're going hellwards yeah, but f*ck it, we know how to do it with style in Italy.
I am getting carried away. Very appropriate; that was exactly what happened when I first came to Italy. I love it here. I miss Denmark once in a while, the seriousness of the Danish people, the sincerity, the organization. But it bores me to death. I miss the chaos, the life that thrives here in spite of, or maybe because of, that chaos.
Anyway.
Failing to be a model I took weekend dancing jobs in the discoteques and lived handsomely off that. I have had dancing jobs in Denmark as well, I worked on Blitz in Aarhus and X-Ray in Copenhagen. And by dancing jobs i *mean* dancing jobs, it sounds a lot worse, people expect lapdancing, sex and nakedness. We were good dancers, a happy bunch that enjoyed a good time and knew how to party, very often without alcohol and drugs. I stopped dancing for money 4 years ago but took a more appropriate job, hostess in the same discoteques where I worked before. I have a list with names on it; people that reserved a table. I take them to their table and wish them a good evening. I get good money for it and I get to stick around the discoteques i love so much.
At the same time I started to muck around with Photoshop, Illustrator and later Flash and After Effects. I became a graphic designer, and have stuck to that for... what... 10 years now ? Which means that I have worked a lot, doing a daytime job and working in the weekends as well. I like to think of myself as a passionate person, I love to do the things I love and I don't save myself. For the last two years I have been working as senior multimedia designer in Prato, close to Florence. And I love it. It's inspiring, creative and hard work but it is what I want to do, even though work is where i miss the Danish seriousness most. If I am ever considering coming back to Denmark, i think about it in terms of work.
Ok, and for my family as well. I have both my parents (in love as ever, i actually think that it influences the way I see *my* relationships - I tend to want perfection, I won't settle for nothing less than what my parents has got), I have 2 brothers, one older than me by 4 years, he's in love and cutely so. And then I have a younger brother who is married and have 2 beautiful and smart kids. I'm a lucky godmother to both.
I have a handful of very good friends, loads of acquaintances and one man.
I think he's here to stay. I realize that the perfect love doesn't exist of its own accord. I wake up every morning to an OK love, and I'm lucky as to have that. But it's up to me to make it perfect every day.
I think I'm learning.
And if I'm wrong, then I'm becoming a better person in the process for even trying.
Comments
beijos... i mean Italy, not Brazil... the stuff with corruption, mess and climate it works there as well,
although the climate is much better... he he
yes the Italian sense of style isn't what it used to be =).
Just kidding; I know it's getting harder, I guess my writing just reflects the way I tend to focus on the positive in periods. And then hurry up to write about it, while I *am* positive.
And I think you're right. An OK love means that it is really up to you to make it perfect.
Once you get there, you'll get there.
Compliments are even greater when coming from you, thanks.
Funnily I don't think of this post as being romantic. I think I paint a picture as I choose to see it, I like to focus on the good stuff while not missing the bad stuff.
I like to keep my perspective, at the end of the day, it's important (for me) to remember that (my) life is made or unmade of the small things.
The comment from stensamler is interesting because she lives in Italy as well, and seems to see another picture.
thanks. A lot. It's important to me and funnily enough this is one of the few posts that came spontaneously and with no concern as to grammatics. More content and less style indeed.