The Plagiarizing Blog
This is my friend Cat's latest blog. She was swept away by an italian man (seriously) and now lives in Roma,which I think is the most amazing thing ever. She posted this blog that I loved so much I'm taking. My plan is to then comment on it:
It's been about three months since I've entered the world of Italia. It's been quite an adjustment, but I think I'm doing a-OK. My italiano is improving, thank god. The other night I said something to my Gio and I thought his eye-balls were going to explode. "You just spoke Italian! You just spoke Italian! And I understood! Ahhhh!" So apparently, I'm speaking Italian. It's about damn time, I suppose.
There are three important M's of Italia: Mangia (Eat), Moda (Fashion), and il Malocchio (the Evil-Eye). Let's begin:
Mangia: Oh. My. GOD. Italians are a bit obsessed with eating, but no one is really fat. It's interesting. I don't get it. It's like, how can one person eat pasta every single day, with rich sauce and meat and potatoes and bread, and not gain weight? It's really weird. I think I've gained like, 3 or 4 pounds in these three plus months, and I'm freaking out. Nonna is always asking, "What do you want to eat? What do you want to eat?" Morning, noon and night. While I'm eating lunch, she asks me what I want for dinner. And if I don't eat her food, she gets really really sad. So I have to eat it. I feel bad if I don't. She's always saying, "You're wasting away, why don't you eat, you'll die of starvation", to which I reply, "Nonna. I could hibernate for months without eating and emerge in springtime with the same GD belly." (This, of course, said in English, as my vocab is still not up to par.) And the combinations are strange: always pasta, and then meat and potatoes. Or meat and beans. I can't handle it. I eat about two bites of pasta, and then say, "Basta, finito!" (Enough, finished!) And Nonna looks as if I've stolen her new born baby and put it on an airplane.
Moda: The fashion. Oh my god. If you heard in the past that Italians were great dressers, then please show them to me. Because all I see is ridiculous, non-sensical creations on these poor, innocent souls. Take sparkles, for instance. Isn't it safe to say that the Be-Dazzler craze went away in the 90's? Not here, it didn't. I believe every Italian owns a Be-D and uses it on everything. Shoes, jeans, denim jack....ah yes, the denim jacket. You know it's springtime when the Italians pull out the "Tennessee Tuxedo." denim jacket with jeans. And it's ALWAYS the worst combo. Especially the men. Stone-washed blue-jean 80's jacket with stone-washed, black AC Slater jeans. Crazy. And the women. Sketchers with skinny jeans, sparkly tops, tight clothes that are three sizes too small, and the ever-popular BE-D'd "Pinko" bag. Don't know what Pinko means, but apparently, bags like the word because it's all over the bag. In jewels. Also, the makeup. While I prefer clean and natural with just a touch of Burt's Bee's, these ladies go all out: mascara, black eye-liner, blush, heavy lipstick with dark lip-liner. I swear to god Tammy Faye's Italian sister was on the metro with me the other day. It was awesome.
il Malocchio:The Evil-Eye. I get this often from Italian women. You thought we were bitches..oh no. Italian women are bitches. it's really hard to make friends with them, and as soon as they lay eyes on you the judgement begins. Similar to us American gals, but a lot bitchier. I get the evil-eye more often because I'm a "bad American that has come to take away all the Italian men." Ha. I also give the evil-eye often, when I catch Italians staring at me, or talking about the "American." I've gotten really really good at it, needless to say.
Italia is good, Roma is good. To tell you the truth, it's just like living anywhere else, except they speak another language. Not so different...
Okay, so it's true. Big cities are essentially the same everywhere. There are different icons (Coliseum, Empire State Building, Eiffel Tower) but in general you have the same feeling of thousands upon thousands of individuals literally living on top of each other. For me, that is nothing short of heaven, beyond having a large horse farm in the country to retreat to on weekends. That's the first thing. My biggest regret is not studying abroad for a complete year and missing out on living in a foreign city for cheap. Sure, I can do it now, but who knows how much more the American dollar will drop in comparison with the Euro.
Mangia: it's more than that place on 57th and 5th. Mangia is a way of life in all of Europe and for that matter most of the world. While Americans fear food and are perpetually dieting, you'll find that Europeans are drinking coffee and eating white flour all the time. I still haven't figured out how sample sizes can remain a size 2 while European women supposedly eat croissants for breakfast.
Moda: Okay, so I'll admit that European fashion isn't always the same as American fashions (I remember thinking that I couldnt' believe carpenter pants were back in style in '05). My question is... how is it designers like Prada, Versace, Gucci and Pucci come out of Milan? I'd love for someone to explain that to me.
Il Mallochio: 'Nuff said.
I'm not sure if this blog made my desire to get out of town worse or not though. I'm sitting at work pricing plane tickets and wondering how many hours I'll have to work to cover one!
It's been about three months since I've entered the world of Italia. It's been quite an adjustment, but I think I'm doing a-OK. My italiano is improving, thank god. The other night I said something to my Gio and I thought his eye-balls were going to explode. "You just spoke Italian! You just spoke Italian! And I understood! Ahhhh!" So apparently, I'm speaking Italian. It's about damn time, I suppose.
There are three important M's of Italia: Mangia (Eat), Moda (Fashion), and il Malocchio (the Evil-Eye). Let's begin:
Mangia: Oh. My. GOD. Italians are a bit obsessed with eating, but no one is really fat. It's interesting. I don't get it. It's like, how can one person eat pasta every single day, with rich sauce and meat and potatoes and bread, and not gain weight? It's really weird. I think I've gained like, 3 or 4 pounds in these three plus months, and I'm freaking out. Nonna is always asking, "What do you want to eat? What do you want to eat?" Morning, noon and night. While I'm eating lunch, she asks me what I want for dinner. And if I don't eat her food, she gets really really sad. So I have to eat it. I feel bad if I don't. She's always saying, "You're wasting away, why don't you eat, you'll die of starvation", to which I reply, "Nonna. I could hibernate for months without eating and emerge in springtime with the same GD belly." (This, of course, said in English, as my vocab is still not up to par.) And the combinations are strange: always pasta, and then meat and potatoes. Or meat and beans. I can't handle it. I eat about two bites of pasta, and then say, "Basta, finito!" (Enough, finished!) And Nonna looks as if I've stolen her new born baby and put it on an airplane.
Moda: The fashion. Oh my god. If you heard in the past that Italians were great dressers, then please show them to me. Because all I see is ridiculous, non-sensical creations on these poor, innocent souls. Take sparkles, for instance. Isn't it safe to say that the Be-Dazzler craze went away in the 90's? Not here, it didn't. I believe every Italian owns a Be-D and uses it on everything. Shoes, jeans, denim jack....ah yes, the denim jacket. You know it's springtime when the Italians pull out the "Tennessee Tuxedo." denim jacket with jeans. And it's ALWAYS the worst combo. Especially the men. Stone-washed blue-jean 80's jacket with stone-washed, black AC Slater jeans. Crazy. And the women. Sketchers with skinny jeans, sparkly tops, tight clothes that are three sizes too small, and the ever-popular BE-D'd "Pinko" bag. Don't know what Pinko means, but apparently, bags like the word because it's all over the bag. In jewels. Also, the makeup. While I prefer clean and natural with just a touch of Burt's Bee's, these ladies go all out: mascara, black eye-liner, blush, heavy lipstick with dark lip-liner. I swear to god Tammy Faye's Italian sister was on the metro with me the other day. It was awesome.
il Malocchio:The Evil-Eye. I get this often from Italian women. You thought we were bitches..oh no. Italian women are bitches. it's really hard to make friends with them, and as soon as they lay eyes on you the judgement begins. Similar to us American gals, but a lot bitchier. I get the evil-eye more often because I'm a "bad American that has come to take away all the Italian men." Ha. I also give the evil-eye often, when I catch Italians staring at me, or talking about the "American." I've gotten really really good at it, needless to say.
Italia is good, Roma is good. To tell you the truth, it's just like living anywhere else, except they speak another language. Not so different...
Okay, so it's true. Big cities are essentially the same everywhere. There are different icons (Coliseum, Empire State Building, Eiffel Tower) but in general you have the same feeling of thousands upon thousands of individuals literally living on top of each other. For me, that is nothing short of heaven, beyond having a large horse farm in the country to retreat to on weekends. That's the first thing. My biggest regret is not studying abroad for a complete year and missing out on living in a foreign city for cheap. Sure, I can do it now, but who knows how much more the American dollar will drop in comparison with the Euro.
Mangia: it's more than that place on 57th and 5th. Mangia is a way of life in all of Europe and for that matter most of the world. While Americans fear food and are perpetually dieting, you'll find that Europeans are drinking coffee and eating white flour all the time. I still haven't figured out how sample sizes can remain a size 2 while European women supposedly eat croissants for breakfast.
Moda: Okay, so I'll admit that European fashion isn't always the same as American fashions (I remember thinking that I couldnt' believe carpenter pants were back in style in '05). My question is... how is it designers like Prada, Versace, Gucci and Pucci come out of Milan? I'd love for someone to explain that to me.
Il Mallochio: 'Nuff said.
I'm not sure if this blog made my desire to get out of town worse or not though. I'm sitting at work pricing plane tickets and wondering how many hours I'll have to work to cover one!
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