Category — Italy

We haven’t had vocab in a while, so here’s a special one:

Today’s vocab word is zia. It means aunt. Here it is in a sentence:

“Kristin sarà la zia migliore di sempre!”

Happy translating!

This post is dedicated to my friends in Italy. The ones who put up with my English and force me to speak a little Italian every time we talk. Thank you for your patience…you’ll need it with this one.

Le parole sono iportante. Io dico lo tutto il tempo. Che è l’unica cosa che mi rende nervoso per il mio ritorno in Italia e l’avventura oltre. Le parole.

Sono cresciuto con una madre che era un insegnante di inglese. Ho studiato legge e ha scritto per una vita. Le parole sono i miei amici. Essi sono i miei strumenti, le mie difese, le mie armi.  Più di ogni altra cosa, parole significano humor.    Io sono una persona divertente. In realtà, io sono abbastanza divertenti.

Ma, il mio umorismo è in gran parte dipende dalla intelligenza e tempi comici. E ‘qualcosa che ho coltivato in modo da utilizzare per rompere il ghiaccio con persone nuove, come strumento diplomatico nelle situazioni di tensione, e altrettanto divertimento generale. Senza padronanza della lingua, dovrò ricorrere alla comicità fisica.

So che questa avventura mi permette di imparare molto su me stesso. Sarà strip via quello che penso io e mi lasciano con il mio core. Sono pronto a lasciarsi alle spalle il consumismo. Sono pronto a lasciarsi alle spalle “l’avvocato “. Io non sono così sicuro che io sono pronto a lasciarsi alle spalle l’umorismo. Suppongo che mi dice qualcosa.

La settimana scorsa, la mia mamma mi ha chiesto se ho paura. Le ho detto che io non sono – e sono davvero no. Mi sento come se fossi pronto per conoscere me stesso. Credo che non solo mi aspettavo l’apprendimento avrebbe cominciato così presto.

Last week, I sold my house. Well, I signed the acceptance papers, so I count that as selling the house.

Don't we look happy together?

It might not seem like much, but it’s been a long, long journey. After living there for 5 years, I let the house sit empty for almost two years, unable to tear myself away from it. Unable to even rent it. Unable to move on with my life. It took a lot of time, an energy clearing, and a major life change to get to the point where I’m finally ready to hand the house to the next owner.

When I first moved out of the house, I had a really hard time. I cried every time I went back, which made it hard to pack up, clean it out, or do any kind of maintenance on the house. It took a toll on my finances. It took a toll on my relationship. My inability to move on has kept me in a holding pattern, circling my “successes” and pondering my “failures”.

You see, I bought the house right after law school. In fact, I made an offer, sight-unseen, while I was on vacation in Hawaii, one week after taking the bar exam. I lived there the entire time I practiced law – while I worked at the Court of Appeals, while I worked as a Hearings Officer, and when I opened my own practice – in my house. I lived there when I was a political organizer, doing the work I loved.

That house was a symbol of everything in my life I had decided to be. A symbol of the success I had worked hard for. It was part of my “five-year-plan” – the smart investment I’d decided on in my college financial planning course. And, that course was part of my business major, the marketable degree I’d decided to get.

Yay me! I planned my life out at age 20! What’s crazy is that I lived my life according to that plan for the next 12 years. Wow.

Even after I moved out, it took me a couple of years – the time the house was empty – to figure that out. It was a painful two years. Even once I saw the reason I was paralyzed, I wasn’t able to change it.

It’s amazing how effectively we can fool ourselves. A three-bedroom ranch in the suburbs filled with furniture and consumer debt. That was the pre-packaged experience I chose.

I realized something today when I was talking with my boss about my decision to pick up my life and go traveling. For quite some time, I’ve been trying to figure out what I want. I’ve made myself truly miserable searching for the life I want. What do I want to be? What do I want to do? How do I want to live? That’s a hell of an overwhelming series of questions. I’ve been searching for the entire life plan/path/experience that I want, instead of just doing what I want to do today, in this moment. I was so absorbed in the giant task of figuring out my life that I couldn’t see the little things that I wanted. For the first time in a very long time, I know what I want. I just want to go back to Italy. I know nothing after that. I have thoughts about what might happen. I have ideas about what I could do, but the only thing I know I want is to go back. Next to years of agonizing over what life I want to live, deciding to go back to Italy seems like one of the easiest things in the world.

Last week when I was at the house, I had a remarkable moment when I looked around and saw the house as someone else’s home. It’s a great house, and I loved my time in it – but it belongs to someone else now. It will always mean a great deal to me, but perhaps now I will think of it as less of a symbol of my “success” and more as one of my greatest teachers.

I just wish my teachers didn’t make me cry so much. It’s kind of how I imagine Catholic school.

One of the best dirty Italian exclamations I’ve learned is “cazzo!” It literally means “dick” but is used anywhere we’d say “shit!” It’s pronounced “catso!” It’s super handy. I always think of cats when I say it.

It came in handy this week. I’ve been sleeping on the sofa-bed, which means there is no bed-side table, or lamp. The closest lamp is a floor-lamp about 6 feet from the bed. This is very inconvenient for my night time ritual, which is reading Harry Potter until I’m drooling, and then reaching over to turn off the light.

This weekend I tried a new tactic: headlamp. It works perfectly when camping, so I thought I’d give it a go at home.

All was well for the first couple of minutes. I could read the book, and aside from blinding Libby, everything seemed cool.

Then I noticed one of the cats, Juniper, staring at me. Cat owners will know that this is not odd cat behavior. What was odd was that her head started swaying and she moved toward me on the bed.

Then I saw the bug.

A little green bug, attracted by my headlamp, landed on my chest and then darted up toward the light on my forehead.

“CAZZO!”

Fortunately, I realized what was about to go down just before Juniper lunged. I tossed the headlamp and got out of bed to turn on the floor-lamp.

Better to have my face than to have convenience.

Today’s vocab word is grassetto/a. It means “bold”. Here it is in a sentence:

“La grassetta, pòrta un erba Merkin.”

Happy translating!