il soldatino di spagno

i'm sure many of you know of the story of the tin soldier. a hans christian anderson classic. i was recently reintroduced to said tale, but a slightly different version from the one i am used to.

boy (without leg) meets girl (with leg under tutu). - so far so good.
boy falls out window and is found by some boys. - still lo stesso.
boys make boat and send the soldier down the river to the sewer. - right.
soldier gets eaten by fish and sold to the very same household he came from. - the same!

and THEN.....the soldier is reunited with his one-legged love and they live happily ever after! NO. that is the story i knew only too well. in fact, disney included the story in fantasia 2000 with that very ending.


the REAL ending to the story is: the soldier gets blown into the fire when the window is opened. the ballerina falls right after him and the two burn up together in the fire, leaving only a tin heart and the flowers from the ballerina's tutu.


why on earth did we change the ending? it is so sad, yet gratifying at the same time. we love our happy endings in the U.S. and i agree, they are wonderful...but hans wrote the ending this way for a reason! i'm gonna spread the word of the REAL ending, and i hope you all appreciate it as much as i do.

my new jam.

everyday. on the bus.

la bella lavanderina
che lava i fazzoletti
per i poveretti della città.
fai un salto, fai un' altro
fai un gira volta, fai un' altra volta
guarda su
guarda giù
fai un bacio chi voli tu!

in english..more or less.
the beautiful wash girl (?..the best translation i could think of)
who washes the handkerchiefs
of the poor in the town.
jump once, jump again
turn around, and one more time
look up
look down
give a kiss to whom you wish!

love transatlantic style

Autophobia: the fear of being alone.

before i came to italy, i was pretty confident that i suffered mildly from autophobia. when i first moved into the kater street house, i remember calling to rachael at night like a child, because my room was so big, and empty. i rarely go anywhere alone. the grocery store, CVS, for a walk, for a run. i like to be with people. in fact, i would go as far as to say i was dependent on being WITH people. and i'm sure my friends will attest to this..

part of my intentions on going to italy alone, was to test the waters of my solidarity. now, only two months into my journey, i am overjoyed at the ease of my transition. i have been showered with love from all over the globe. i have learned in these past two months, how much i am truly loved, and cared for. i am desperately trying to put into words how grateful i am for you all. i was close to tears today after recieving a THIRD package...this time from sarah and liz, complete with halloween goodies, hello kitty, and a HOT new winter coat (which i was in need of desperately).

at this point i'm pretty much close to spontaneous combustion from all this lovin. god has shown me so much about love. i'm sure you have all heard my stance on relationships on this point...and why i am so content without one. and after a long conversation with a DEAR friend, we concluded: love does not have to be found only in a romantic setting. certainly, there is something to be said for the profound love of a romantic relationship. love is simply love. whether it is a sisterly love, friendly love, or romatic love. all love is god's love. i see that more than ever. i have a love that will never fail me. and this i know for sure with all that god has blessed me with here in rome. i know this from the constant reminders from all my loved ones back in the states. thank you all for your sweet lovin. (i know...i need to stop before you run for the tissues.) but please know you are the loves of my life.

''American''

everday, i meet people from all over the world; dutch who speak italian, germans who speak british english, french who live in switzerland and speak german and russian, just to name a few. europeans are made up of an intricate web of history, some having family lines that they know date back to the middle ages.

what then of the americans? our country is a baby in comparison to the history that europe holds. most of us only know our family roots back three generations. and most of us are content with that. i have a german friend studied in the states a few years ago. a frequent conversation she had with americans living near by was similar to this:
american - oh you're german, cool so am i.
vera- oh really, where abouts are you from in germany?
american - oh i have no idea, but i know i'm german!

thus, europeans are quite confused as to what we actually mean by our ethnicity. to an ACTUAL german, germany is the country of their birth, and their heritage. to americans with german decent, it is an identity. a more complex version of the basic ''american'' which so many of us are. what do you define yourself as? i usually say my mother's family is from poland, and my father's from ireland. do i actually know if %100 of my father's side of the family is Irish? no, of course not. i am embarrassed to even admit, that i too have no idea what city my ancestors are from, or if i have distant relatives in Ireland or Poland. then there are those of us who are a number of different ethnicities. which ones do you choose to identify with? i've never met someone who has identified themself with more than 4or 5 ethnicities, and what traditions do you choose then to keep? i also have two adopted aunts. they are both blood to me, but in actuality, they may not be irish at all. the ethnic web of america is very complex. maybe that's why so few pursue their past.

we live in an american bubble where most history doesn't exist before 1776. europeans find it strange that we connect ourselves to a country, but know nothing of it's culture, history, or most importantly, language. i try to explain that it was essential to know english to be successful in the early 1900's. therefore, immigrants refused to speak their mother-tongue with their children, in hopes that their children would rise to a higher social status. funny enough, we have now done a 180 and try to raise bilingual children for that same reason. they knew nothing of raising bilingual children in the eighteenth century, and out went all other languages in the United States.

americans most certainly know how to be passionate about ethnicity. everyone is a little bit irish on st. patrick's day, and we all know the infamous ''everyone loves a .... girl'' t-shirts from urban outfitters. but we limit our passion to holiday traditions and flags in our homes. we are quite proud to acknowledge our ethnicities, but yet so ignorant as to pursue our past. but i encourage you all to really discover who you are, and where you are from. if for nothing else, do it so that when you are approached by a european of your same ethnic decent, you can actually name more than one major city in their country.

food for thought

when i was in the states i would often get the ''what's does this mean?'' question for pretty much any word that is in italian. i remember one time in particular when a new fab restaurant was opening on fairmount, ''osteria'' got asked that very question. it urked me that i was 1. stumped at an italian word and 2. stumped that i didnt know the answer to a restaurant question (god forbid!). and now, after a few months of slowly eating away at my italian and food snobbery pride, i have an answer!

did you know that 'back in the day' the town inn that offered food was called the osteria? [stress on the IA pizzle...i know how that plagued you.] it was never anything special...think dirty English Inn where they spit to clean out your mug. and the food was very basic and cheap - poor man's food. they were called osterias because the owner or 'host' was called an oste (from the latin hospite of course..)

Now the trattoria is one step up from an osteria. (italians add 'ia' to almost any shop. a latteria = a milk shop, a tabacherria = cigarette shop) you could find better quality food, and hopefully no cockroaches in your bed. the owner or host of a trattoria? a trattore (a cognate of traiteur in French, essentially meaning take-out. you could take your midprice meal home too!)

Finalmente, il ristorante. ristorare ''to restore'' is the original derivitive of the word, and it also comes from those clever french, who opened the first restaurant in 1765. It served hearty soups in which to restore your body...okay i think you get it.

Actually, now that i have all this information, it's kind of funny that the lavish italian antipasto bar on fairmount charges $18 for a pizza, and is named (essentially) the mcdonald's of italian restaurants..

basta è basta

i have had it with all the negativity an election brings. i praise god every day that i wasn't living during the civil war, or the civil rights movement, because i can't stand to see people (who are supposed to be united) so divided. the news reports, the youtube videos, and the facebook messages make me so sad.
where is people's passion? are people passionate about bettering our country and our lives or are people passionate about degrading others that might disagree with their point of view? what do you suppose our country would look like if we all starting focusing our passions in a positive way? i literally had to stop watching a youtube video last night because the narrator was so angry he made my stomach sick.
a friend overheard someone call sarah palin a ''stupid bitch''. so she retorted ''is she REALLY stupid? she is the govenor of alaska. and why is she a bitch all of a sudden?'' we automatically use coloquial phrases like this to justify our opinions...getting us nowhere. i can't say that i'm not to blame either. but it reminds me how much we all need to release this negativity from our lives. nothing good will evercome from negativity. please remember this when you vote tomorrow. whatever the outcome, our country is going to change. and if you don't like it, you can always move to italy with me. :)