Such Great Heights

I don't really have much to say about my time in Carmel or Monterey. Both places are so beautiful, but I feel like such touristy towns are almost harder when you're by yourself. Besides, I had bigger and better things to do. 

Let me tell you, the drive from Monterey to San Francisco up Route 1 is hands down one of the most breathtaking things I've ever experienced. I stopped a couple of times to just stand on a cliff and stare out into the vast blue of the ocean. With the waves crashing against the craggy rocks in a relentless, punishing rhythm, I was overcome by a sense of peace that has been missing in New York, where occasional glimpses of contrived nature clash noisily with the concrete jungle. It's a consistent cacophony of sounds and sights that assaults the senses and makes it near impossible to think straight. I have been looking for a place where I can breathe, and the dizzying cliffs at the edge of route 1 are damn near perfect. 

I arrived in San Francisco, finally turning on my GPS to take me to a Holiday Inn near Fisherman's Wharf. I had a little bit of sticker shock at the price of a night, but my desire to begin my exploration of the city won out, so I checked in. Quick change, then I was off to the Wharf, where I had a lunch of oysters and linguine with clams at one of a thousand seafood restaurants. It was actually really good, though it didn't hold a candle to Maialino's spaghettiini alle vongole, but then few others do. After walking around for a little bit, I went back to my room to relax because I was meeting Ian (former coworker) for dinner. 

In New York, if something is less than a mile away, you walk. I learned the hard way that you don't do that here. I was meeting Ian just about a mile away, so I set off...and upwards. THIS IS NOT A WALKING CITY. Those breathtaking vistas from atop San Francisco's hills are best reached via cab or cable car. However, at this point my stubbornness kicked in, and I pushed on, arriving at Ian's SoulCycle studio panting and sweaty, with a vague sense of accomplishment, not quite as great as climbing Everest, but maybe one of its foothills. Had a nice dinner and some drinks catching up with Ian, who relocated here from New York about a year ago, and has nothing but great things to say about living here. 

Day one in San Francisco was amazing. I love this city so much! The photo below is a view of one of the vertical streets I climbed.

Suuuuper-Smalltown, USA

Image of 'the steel rodeo'

I've been absent from posting for a couple of days because I spent those days in the middle of nowhere, with no internet access besides what 4G service I could get on my phone. After the hustle and bustle of LA (and a great night staying at Susan's house), Springville was a welcome retreat. Located 3.5 hours Northeast of LA, Springville is a tiny town in the Sierra Nevada foothills where my friend Kendra lives. Friday night it was raining, so we ended up going bowling, which she said is a common night-out activity in neighboring Porterville, which is the 'big' town. That was fun times, and gave me a chance to meet some of Kendra's friends, as well as get a feel for the nightlife. I did get into a heated debate with a guy at the bar over politics, but I need to learn to pick my battles in Republicanville...the next day was the main event: the Springville Rodeo. This thing is a big freaking deal. What seemed like the entire population of Springville (around 1,000) was there, as well as most of the neighboring towns. It was a pretty awesome rodeo, though rodeo will never be my favorite form of entertainment (poor animals). Kendra said that calf-tying doesn't hurt the calves, but I just don't see how that's possible when you're being jerked around the neck at top speeds. 

Some highlights from the rodeo:

- Denim on denim on denim, as far as the eyes could see. 

- A young boyscout half-heartedly selling sunflower seeds in the stands as his father followed him around.

- Churros and $4.00 beers 

-The Steel Rodeo, a high-flying BMX show that happened after the horses were put to bed

All in all, it was a great experience, and I'm glad I went out to Springville. The weather was a bit colder than I guess it usually is, but I'll just have to go back. It reminded me of all the things I loved about going to college in a small town. Kendra actually has a river going through her back yard, so I'll have to go back so we can go tubing. However, after eating like smalltown America for 2 days, I was pretty psyched to hit the road in search of some crisp, clean seafood. After a disappointing lunch in Carmel, I'm still looking.........Better luck in SAN FRANCISCO!!!

That's so L.A.

I had written this long post when I arrived the other day at Rick and Mich's house about our beautiful drive down to LA, and our (and then my) nights at Allison's, but I accidentally deleted it. I was so angry about it that I couldn't bear to try and write it again. Here are the main points, then I'll talk about the last couple of days:

-After the wedding brunch on Sunday, me, Oliver, Kinnon, Tee and Jess all drove down from Ojai to LA, along the Pacific Coast Highway whenever possible. 

-I can never get enough of the ocean, just staring at it. Sitting on the shores, whether East or West, I can stare into the ocean and see everything and nothing all at once. The horizon presents the promise of something on the other side, we just have to trust/know it's there (there's a metaphor there but I won't insult anyone's intelligence by belaboring the point).

-Oliver and Tee are crazy, and we stopped so they could jump in the freezing ocean. 

-After lunch in Venice, we went to an indoor-outdoor bar in Santa Monica, which was PACKED. We wondered if anyone actually had jobs, as this was a Sunday afternoon.

-We took a $25 Uber cab that lasted 4 minutes to go meet Allison's friends at a bar. We walked back, upon our insistence. Apparently everyone takes cabs here.

-Had a lovely dinner at Eveleigh. Our server had just moved out here a year ago from NYC, where he had worked at my favorite late-night joint, Blue Ribbon. 

-The next morning, we drove up to the Hollywood sign, so we could take some touristy photos. This accomplished, the others piled in the car, it wouldn't start, then finally got a jump and drove to the airport. 

-Monday night, Allison and I went to the Hot Tub, a comedy showcase at the Virgil in East Hollywood hosted by Kristen Schaal (she played the really weird page in 30 Rock who dated Kenneth). It was surprisingly funny, given that it was mostly experimental comedy, as well as a forum where comedians could try out new material. 

 Tuesday, Rick picked me up and brought me to his house. He and Mich live in this beautiful residential neighborhood that is perfectly serene, especially given how close it is to Hollywood Boulevard (more on that in a minute). He had a meeting, so I went shopping unsuccessfully, then after his meeting we went to Buffalo Exchange, where we both had a lot more success. After that, he had to go out for a bit, so I sat down and wrote the aforementioned doomed blog post, then when he came back we went out and got sushi. Yesterday morning, I got up and after looking at a map, realized how close they live to Hollywood Boulevard, like less than a mile! I spent the morning doing the touristy thing, walking up and down the Boulevard, looking for stars, then I went to the Hollywood Museum. It's in the old Max Factor building, where supposedly stars like Marilyn Monroe and Lucille Ball got their makeup done (in the same rooms that were preserved for people to gawk at now). A few highlights: the pill bottle found with Marilyn when she died, Elvis's tattered, peanut-butter-stained bathrobe, and a replica of Hannibal Lecter's cell. It really is the little things for me. Last night, we had a little dinner party with their friends from Australia and their roommate Dan, which was really fun. Today we are puttering around a bit, then I'm off to Susan's for my last night in LA!!! More later, miss everyone!  PS the picture above is of Pam Anderson and David Hasselhoff's swimsuits from Baywatch. I texted Oliver a picture. 

Here I Go Again On My Own...

Well, four years later, here I am again. One chapter closed, doing my best to figure out the next one. Having spent the last three years getting my Masters degree in Food Studies and working full-time at Maialino restaurant in NYC, I'm exhausted. I'm proud to have gotten my degree while working in an industry that is, arguably, one of the more challenging, both physically and emotionally. I come away from my time there with a stronger sense of how to manage people, as well as a continued love and passion for food, especially Italian. One of the greatest things that Maialino gave me, however, was a group of people who were both a joy to work with and to get to know individually. Leaving them was the hardest part of leaving the restaurant, but we had a baller going-away party and I look forward to crossing paths with them in the future. 

 What am I doing now? Having come out to California for my friend Tim and Erkia's wedding, I decided to stay on and explore this state that I don't know very well at all. Right now I'm in Los Angeles, staying with Allison. Oliver, Kinnon, Tee and Jess just left for the airport to go back to Boston, and I feel like my trip is really starting now. I look forward to seeing hopefully all the people I know and love in California, but I'm also excited to spend some time alone as I drive. 

 Los Angeles is like a foreign country to me. I speak the language, fortunately, but that's about as far as I can go. Shiny, happy people doesn't even begin to describe it. The one thing all of us were asking yesterday was, "don't these people ever work??" The East Coast is so career-driven, and people are almost defined first and foremost by what they do, where they went to school, etc. Not here. Allison confirmed my suspicion that a lot of friendships are forged by gauging what another person can do for the other, who do you know who can help me get ahead/get famous, and the like. This is certainly not to say that real, true friendships aren't forged here, but it seems to me that you have to work just a little bit harder to find the genuine ones. Also, coming from New York, the need to drive everywhere is insane to me. 

 I'm writing this from Allison's living room, sunshine pouring in from the sliding doors that overlook her pool, having just returned from a drive to go see the Hollywood sign, and even though I"m nervous about my time here, and I don't know what the future holds, I am convinced that I made the right choice. How could all this sunshine be wrong??

Spring is Here!

After a more-than-a-little-slow start to the spring, and a massive hiatus from yours truly from blogging, it seems that the famous Roman weather is finally in swing. That Icelandic volcano has apparently been behind the poor weather, which will probably continue to be gross through at least August, but at least for now (and the last couple of days) it's sunny. Nothing too new has happened in the last few weeks, we've just been enjoying the spring. Our team finished 2nd place at the last Pub Quiz, and fourth in the league overall, which we're pretty proud of. The picture up top is of me and my team. Work is going well, it's nice to have a source of income, at least! I have 2 weeks off in August, and we are planning a little trip around Tuscany, for which I am so excited. We stayed in Tuscany 3 years ago as a family, and I can't wait to revisit all the little hill towns and eat the delicious food. Even though Rome is in Italy, it is such a tourist city and the food is not as great as in the rest of the country. Which is not to say that I haven't had some fantastic meals. We had dinner the other night, 5 of us, and went to a little place in Trastevere that I've been to before, but the gnocchi was just fantastic. You can really ruin gnocchi. If it's too dense, it's really bad, but these were perfect fluffy pillows covered in a tomato sauce with mozzarella. Fantastic. On another note, today I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of my Rosetta Stone language software. After visiting me here, and seeing how poorly my Italian has been progressing, my dad generously offered to foot the bill for the program, and I'm so excited. It's my summer project, to become at least functional by the fall. I'd like to be able to get myself around by the time we go on holiday, because I don't like having to have someone always speak for me, so here's hoping. I'm sorry I've been so lazy in posting, maybe the Italian lackadaisical quality has rubbed off on me!!! Much love to all.

Senioritis

I feel like I owe it to the elderly of Italy to give them a shoutout. For a country that so values physical appearance, "La Bella Figura," it is more than marginally shocking that people age the way they do here. It's as though all of a sudden they reach a threshold, say at 60 or so, and all of their prior careful primping and coiffing and meticulously chosen wardrobes go flying out the window. To put it bluntly, the old people here look, well, OLD. It's like they wake up one morning and acknowledge the passing of time, and resign themselves to spending their twilight years in a world of shapeless, blandly colored outfits and orthopedic shoes. My mother has always believed that age is nothing but a state of mind, and that you are only as old as you feel, and I agree with her. I don't think I would be alone in giving a nod to my parents, who are in their 60s and could run circles around most people in their 50s, and probably some in their 40s (and me, in my 20s, but that's another tale). What, then, has caused the decline of Italy's elderly? Should this even be worth mentioning? Or are Americans conditioned to fear old age? Popular celebrity culture, most rampantly prevalent in the United States, has essentially made aging a cultural faux pas. Botox, collagen injections, and face creams made from placenta are all footsoldiers in the army against Mother Nature. And maybe that's not right, either. There is certainly something to be said for aging gracefully, but what about the sunset of life screams, "MY OUTFITS MUST BE DRAB AND MY SHOES PRACTICAL?" Granted, I understand the need for the shoes, but the kind favored by the Italian grannies is the kind that gives people cankles. For those who don't know, a cankle occurs when there is no distinction between the calf and the ankle- they are one and the same. And orthopedic shoes cause cankles. Alright, there are a few resilient members of the Golden Girls set who simply refuse to don the uniform of seniority, and instead still flaunt their "Golden Girls" in tight sweater sets and short skirts with fishnet stockings, as though they were teenagers on their way to the sock hop. But that's not graceful either. I guess you just have to know when to say when, but I sincerely hope that when I get to the magic age of dressing 'old,' that I have the strength and courage of conviction to throw on a pair of jeans now and again.

Toilet Humor

Contrary to what the title may lead you to believe (and given my often crude sense of humor, who could blame you?), this post is not about poop jokes and the like. Rather, it's a bit of a rant on the conditions of toilets, not just in Rome but in the world at large. As part of my Christmas stocking this year, my mom gave me a small box of disposable toilet seat covers. Clearly, I laughed, and she just said knowingly, "you never know when you might need one". Well, I haven't needed one yet, because THERE ARE NO TOILET SEATS IN ROME. Okay, to be fair, there are some, but at a vast majority of places, it's just the bowl. So many things that we in America consider to be necessities (dishwashers, drying machines, triple-grande vanilla soy lattes), are considered mere luxuries here, not for the average Giovanni. This attitude towards certain amenities begs the question in light of today's post: Are toilet seats a luxury? Or are the Italians so lackadaisical about everything that putting a lid on the porcelain throne was too much work? I have this theory that they put in all the toilets in Rome at the same time, and then decided that the effort would be too great to outfit them all with seats, so they just didn't. Am I being too harsh? There is no law anywhere that states that there needs to be a buffer between my derriere and the toilet bowl, it's just something I've become used to. As I write this, however, I think about the benefits of not having a toilet seat. Men don't have to worry about putting it down (not that they do anyway)...women don't have to touch it when men forget to put it down. One of my least favorite things about public restrooms is that space on the U-seats, where you can see the edge of the bowl under the seat, and without a seat, this problem no longer exists. I guess that one of the reasons that I'm baffled by the universality of subpar toilets, is that going to the bathroom is one of the most basic human functions, that all humans must perform in order to survive. Why then, has this necessity been relegated to some of the dankest, most disgusting places? I guess the world may never know.