May I Present

Hey readers-

So, I'm back in Canada, but I still have opinions. I also have stories. I want to keep writing and apparently others want to keep reading.

But, I cannot continue writing Italian Adventures when I'm not longer in Italy, so may I present my new blog: The Surrian Life.

Because what could be more fun than reading about Adventures in Surrey? I know everyone wonders what life in Surrey is like. I'm here to expose it.

Read it. Bookmark it. Love it.

Because I'm a people pleaser

I'm back in Vancouver. After a uneventful trip home, in which I had no seatmates on either of my flights and an awesome personal television on the 9 hour flight, I've returned to Surrey and ponder the rest of my life.

For those that care, I watched three movies on the plane. "Nick and Norah's infinite playlist," which was a cute movie. "Pineapple Express" was not good at all and I was peeved I missed out on sleep to watch that crap. Finally I saw "Wall-E" which was cute and a pretty good social commentary from the good people at Disney/Pixar.

As for my blogging future, I'm not sure where I'm going with it. I want to keep writing and both my mom and Kim have told me they want to keep reading something.

Stay tuned to this space for some kind of future announcement I guess.

"if you're not willing to be changed by a place, there's no point in going."

“And now, the end is near
And so I face, the final curtain
My friends, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain
I’ve lived a life that’s full
I’ve traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way”

And here it is, the end of my time here in Italy.

Everyone keeps asking if I’m sad to leave or if I’m happy to be going back to Vancouver. I think it’s both.

I am sad to be leaving behind earlier than scheduled and to leave behind my family and the friends I’ve made while here. There are other things I’ll miss as well, such as fresh bread, heated towel racks, bird polenta and the numerous cultural differences I find here on a daily basis.

At the same time I’m happy to return to Vancouver, I’ve missed my family, friends and the familiarity of the city- there’s something I never thought I’d say. I also feel like it’s time, because while I know I said I wanted to stay here a year, it’s becoming more and more apparent that moving to a country is a lot different – and harder – than visiting it.

I will be back though, I have so much more to see and do here that I wish I had more time and money to do it with. I have thoroughly enjoyed my time here and would not trade the time spent here for anything. I think, looking back at myself when I first came and now, that I’ve learned a lot about myself, where I’m going and what I want to be.

I think most of all I’m excited to be returning with a plan for the future, I was worried that when I left here I was going to return and would be lost and unsure of what I’m doing. But I think my time here has made a lot of things clear for me and maybe cemented some ideas in my head for the future.

So arrivederci Italy. I will miss your museums, architecture and fashion, I can’t say the same about your bureaucracy or dial-up internet.

When old ladies attack

February is soon upon us. And every February comes one of the biggest events in fashion… New York Fashion Week.

Celebrities, socialites, hanger on’s and models flock to NYC to get a glimpse of this years biggest trends.

It never fails at these fashion shows that some celebrity or magazine editor shows up in fur. It’s cold in New York and understandable I suppose.

We’ve all seen it in the past. Lindsey Lohan has been dosed in red paint, so have some of the models in the shows. Heck, even Anna Wintour herself, the real life devil in Prada, aka editor of Vogue and fashion’s biggest critic, has had paint thrown at her.

It’s all the doings of good ol’ PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), my dad’s favorite animal rights group (heavy on the sarcasm). They like to send out people to throw red paint to represent the blood shed in procuring such furs for the garments. Harsh, if you ask me.

(as an aside, I’m not a fan of PETA, while I do agree with treating animals ethically, I guess being a meat-eater myself I can’t really say that I agree with everything they do. Also, I think they’re slightly maniacal and unethical towards humans who quite honestly are participating in a somewhat diluted circle of life. Also, Pam Anderson is one of their most famous spokespeople, by subjugating humans to her preaching about their cause is clearly a cruel and unusual punishment to mankind and thus making me want to send PETH after here… if you’re wondering that would be a newly formed group by yours truly – or I assume it is – called Pets for the Ethical Treatment of Humans)

Anyways… I seem to go on a lot of tangents here… my point is PETA likes to target Fashion Week. Sure, it’s because it’s a big event with millions of people watching and it’s good publicity for the PETA cause. But, I know a place where PETA is missing out.

Italy.

Seriously. This place is crawling – crawling – with fur coats. Every woman over the age of 60 is wrapped in some kind of animal carcass. I have no problem with this by the way, I kind of like to see these older ladies wandering around in their furs, dressed up to go to the markets in the morning. But part of me also thinks how awesome would it be to see a PETA member run up and throw paint on these women. Frankly I don’t think they would take it. They’d probably clobber them with their purses (and those are some big purses). These are some feisty ladies. And I’m sure their friends (because they travel in packs) would join in on the beating. Imagine, PETA members getting a beat down by older women… priceless.

After they’re done in Italy they could head to Berlin. They too enjoy their fur there, although much of it is of the hat variety.

Fun with language

Canadese:

I thought this word meant Canadian in Italian. And it most certainly does.

There is a second meaning to it thought.

Apparently canadese also means “small tent” in Italian.

Question to my fellow Canadians: are you insulted? I kinda am.

Why? Dammit… Why?

Why is it whenever I find a concert I really, really, really want to go to somehow it never happens.

To continue where I left off yesterday in my happiness about Fleetwood Mac:

I phoned my dad before 6am his time to share the news, apparently they were coming to Vancouver, he had known this and was planning on trying to buy tickets when they went on sale at 10am Monday. There was actually many people involved in this ticket buying scheme. I ruined the surprise I guess.

But… when I phoned later in the evening to find out if the tickets were bought, he said no. They apparently charge $199/ticket.

I love me some Mac, but no. $199 is too steep.

So here I am, sad and without Mac tickets. These guys are on my must see list, the concert I have to see before… well… they die, because that’s more likely than me dying first.

First Spice Girls, then NKOTB and now Mac.

But as with NKOTB (whom we’re all still praying returns to Van-city right?) I will not give up hope. I’ll search online for cheaper tickets and maybe find something cheaper through craigslist closer to the date… or I’ll resort to buying from scalpers.

For reals people, my love for Fleetwood Mac runs so much deeper than that of NKOTB.

If U2 tours this fall I swear to God, Allah, Buddha and all things holy that I will not let that one pass me by.

You can go your own way

I'm hyperventalating with happiness.

Happier than when I thought there was an off chance that I'd see NKOTB.

I knew there was some kind of destiny why I was heading back to Vancouver.

FLEETWOOD MAC

Only my favorite band ever. Playing in Edmonton, Calgary and Tacoma (what no Vancouver? sigh)

Guess whose about to get an excited 5am wake up call Mom and Dad? I don't care, I'm going even if it's alone.

Tickets are on sale in a few hours. Must move fast.

Less than a week…

And I’ll be back in Vancouver.

I’m pretty much packed, I started Saturday after my dad warned me Friday night that it was going to take me forever. It took about 3 hours on Saturday… so ha ha dad.

I have two of my three suitcases packed and ready to go, just under their weight limit.

The third should come in under the limit as well, or at least I hope.

I’m obviously out of things to write about on this here blog since I’m writing about boring things like this. But I hate to not write, I might get emails from my mom again complaining that I’m not entertaining her.

AKA: YVR

We got into a discussion after lunch on Sunday. Or maybe it was just Christian just talking and all of us arguing with him, this sometime happens.

He asked me if the Vancouver International Airport had another name. I said no, although we often refer to it as YVR.

This upset him. Because every freaking airport here in Italy, if not Europe, has a name. There are plenty of examples: Heathrow, Charles DeGaul, Malpensa, etc.

Even outside Europe there is JFK in New York and I think Toronto is called Pearsons.

It bothered him that YVR didn’t have another name. I like to argue that it’s easier to refer to a airport by it’s city, unless said city is big enough, like London or Milan, to have more than one and thereby needing more than one name.

I mean would the average person know where I was landing or leaving from if I said I was leaving from “Marco Polo?” Probably not, so I’d have to waste more time and say that it’s the Venice airport. What about Schirpol? (sp? I could look it up, but that requires work you know). That’s where my layover in Amsterdam is (ok, this maybe a bigger airport, but really, Amsterdam is so much easier).

But, apparently this isn’t good enough for Christian, so we need to find a name for YVR. Christian suggested Bryan Adams airport. I said I liked Michael J Fox International better. Anyone have any good ideas? Leave them in the comments (a sneaky ploy to get people to comment, I know) and the best one will not become the official name, but you know, I may refer to it in this blog at some point when writing about my return to Vancouver.

Ask and you shall receive

My mom complained to me (via email) that I had been lacking in the blog department lately and apparently the fact that she’ll be seeing me in less than two weeks isn’t a good enough reason for this.

I’m just lazy (but also busy). Plain and simple. I’m working weird hours lately and haven’t been arsed to write and then post anything. For example, I’ve been working on a post on Berlin museums for about a week, I left it when I realized I had to look up how to spell Pergamon, the info was in my agenda as well as in the pictures I took, but you know, that would require effort. I did finally look it up, but then realized I had to look up other things to do with it. So I lost interest and gave up.

Today I’ve posted a bunch of things I’ve been working on and thinking of. Enjoy.

Admit it, you’ll miss his brilliance

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWuIEIBN3sY

Sorry, it wouldn't let me imbed

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

Rejoice. Rejoice. Rejoice.

We survived Bush. Welcome Obama.

(PS: anyone else love Michelle and the daughters, they're an adorable family)

Venetian Adventures

I went to Venice last Saturday. My only disappointment was that I didn’t go sooner. The train there is 4.25 (euro) each way, so I certainly could have gone more often, but I was always under the impression it was more expensive.

I have been to Venice in my three previous visits here, but I was too young to remember it or truly appreciate it. I do remember it raining each time I went, so I was really happy when it was a clear, sunny day on Saturday (a nice reprise, since it rained all Friday and Sunday and continues to pour even now). I also remember a lot of pigeons, this time there were many, especially in St. Marks Square, but not as many as I remember. There are two theories I have for this, one being the obvious that they probably flew somewhere warmer for the winter, the other is that they’ve started eating each other… the pigeons are quite obese, so I wouldn’t put it past them.

I made my way to Venice in the wee morning hours, I left home to catch the first train out and arrived in Venice by 8:15. I wandered along the Grand Canal and walked over one bridge after another. I made it to St. Mark’s square before the crowds showed up and enjoyed the quiet early morning. I watched vendors set up their booths, pigeons crowd around people with bread crumbs and a few tourists, like myself, taking pictures of the beautiful architecture.

I took a walk and came back to the square later, when things had opened up and I was able to go into the cathedral. It truly is striking inside. They were holding confession and I was tempted to go, except they were only offering it in Italian, French and German, because you know if it weren’t for that minor detail, I would have been in there. :P

After the cathedral I made my way onto the ferry (which costs 6 euro, more than the train, and the ticket is only good for an hour, luckily they don’t check tickets so I didn’t bother buying more than one). Once I figured out how they worked I went to the Peggy Guggenheim museum, which featured pieces from her private collection (Picasso, Dali, Klee, etc.) as well as her grave and the grave of her many dogs.

Once I felt decently cultured I made my way back down the grand canal and did some shopping in the stores, wandered aimlessly and looked wishfully at apartments, trying to figure out how much rent was and whether living in Venice is as much fun as visiting it (various people here, who have never lived in Venice, tell me that living there is probably not all it’s cracked up to be).

I finally made my way back home in the evening, tired and with sore feet, but pleased with the city and happy with my trip there. Only wishing I spent more time there in the few months I’ve been here and now wanting to visit even more cities. Oh well, I’ll be back Italy. There are far too many museums, churches and piazzas that I have yet to see.

What I know for sure

(Bloggers note: How have I not done one of these before? Oprah “writes” a monthly column in her magazine called ‘What I know for sure” where she dispenses advice about what she is sure of in life. It’s all very narcissistic if you think about it, because can we ever know anything for sure? But then again, it’s Oprah and thus we should probably trust that she knows, because aren’t we screwed if she doesn’t. Anyways, I thought this was an appropriate title for this blog entry because I do know this for sure… right now).

Last week I started teaching English at a nursery. That’s right, I mold the minds of children, toddlers really, if that even. They’re all generally under the age of 2 and until today, all girls. I use the term “teach English” very loosely, because I basically just repeat key words in English after the teacher says them in Italian, for example if we’re painting with white paint, I say “white.” Tuesday we played with rice, so I repeated rice a million times. Last Thursday I sang Mary Had A Little Lamb about 100 times. This week, one of them finally repeated after me when I said cat. This was a breakthrough, although when I asked her again what the picture was, she couldn’t remember cat.

They are adorable, I do know this for sure. At least for the first 15 minutes, when we’re playing with paints or wool or whatever craft project that has been set out for them. But they have short attention spans, just like me. So they get bored and whinny and cry for their parents as lunch and nap time looms. By the time I’m leaving they’re all crying or screaming and I’m running for the exit.

By the way, I spend an hour with them.

So, what I know for sure (aside from the before mentioned adorableness)… my mom is not getting grandchildren from her daughter anytime soon. Aside from the fact that I can’t afford to make one life happen right now- let alone two- babies aren’t so much my thing right now. Screaming, crying, whinning- it’s not cool. Even though they are kind of fun for 15 minutes and there are 2 of them who are pretty smart for being just under two and another one who squeals in delight when I get there, I figure that fifteen minutes of cuteness isn’t enough to sell me on them yet.

And that is what I know for sure.

Hanging Tough

For those wondering, I was not in Birmingham, England last weekend and therefore did not bare witness to the greatest concert on earth (NKOTB, as if I needed to tell you). It goes without saying that I was trying to make it happen up until the last moment.

They are doing another North American tour in the spring, but unfortunately it’s not in the west. I am hoping they come to their senses and swing back towards Vancouver, even Seattle.

Pictures, pictures, pictures

I've posted some more pictures over at Facebook, go check them out with these links below. They're just random pics taken over the 9 days I was there. It looks like Kim and I never changed our clothes, but I promise we did. We just had to layer more and more as the days went on that it constantly looked as if we never had time to rest or return home.

Culture makes you tired. We did make it home to sleep and change. Trust.

Album 1
Album 2

What I’m looking forward to…

There are a few things I’m looking forward to when I get back to Canada, things that just aren’t available here and I find myself missing. Like drip coffee with flavoured cream in the morning.

I’m also looking to end my addiction to Fox News. 2 months after the election I find myself still watching. It could be because they’re the only station stupid enough to air Anne Coulter and I enjoy yelling at her idiocracy and the other stupid people that the network feels are entitled to airtime.

I think I just enjoy arguing a lot. And no one here will argue with me. So I yell at the TV and I really enjoy the fact that it doesn’t yell back. Although it does continue to spew it’s right-wing b.s.

I suppose that’s reason #347 why I should continue this law school path. Sigh, I guess I’m just destined.

I can’t wait to get back to Canada for the mere fact that I can watch other news networks (they have CNN and BBC here but they always seem to only show lame world sports- today I watched horse jumping… Canada won!- or money watch- which is depressing when you have no money to watch).

I also look forward to the dog and Wii. In fact returning home and playing with my mom’s Christmas present, a Wii, is a pretty exciting for me since I see commercials for them everywhere here, but have yet to experience it.

And I suppose I look forward to seeing all my friends and family, but you know, perspective people, have some perspective.

Maybe a late-in-life career change is in order?

I’ve found a second movie with John McCain in it. As I reported last month John McCain was in Wedding Crashers. Sunday night I was watching the Dixie Chicks documentary “Shut Up & Sing” (not a bad documentary actually… but I love most documentaries so I don’t know if I’m the best critic) and John McCain was in a scene in which they’re discussing radio programmers boycotting the Chicks. Oddly enough, he sided with them and thus I may have, for a mere second, found him endearing.

Again, if he had only brought out the movie credits in his campaign, I believe he could have garnered a few more votes (or maybe it was tactical with this one since a few Republican voters would have instead voted Democratic because his affiliation with the Dixie Chicks?).

From Zio Miraldo’s kitchen…

Before I got to Italy I didn’t really like polenta. I tried it on a few occasions and decided it was too mushy for me. Those not in the know, polenta is a type of corn bread, it’s basically corn flour, salt and water. I had tried my Nonna’s, which I didn’t like, but here, when it’s grilled or fried it’s not mushy and actually quite tasty.

Saturday evening we had some people over for dinner. When people are over we generally grill some meat, have potatoes and polenta. Sometimes we grill it, but lately it’s been fried. And although Jessica and I have both questioned the caloric count in each piece of polenta (it’s best not to think of it) it’s too good to pass up.

On boxing day I began questioning how it was made, I mean at first I thought it was fried in butter or oil and spices, but I started finding clues and today I was given the “secret ingredient.”

It’s birds.

The buggers, I was convinced I wasn’t going to eat any here, but I’ve been eating this dang polenta while it’s been coated in bird guts. When I was told this, my aunt questioned if I would stop eating it just because of that, even though I like it. No, I replied, I would not.

Apparently some of the “special bird sauce” may be smuggled back to Canada with me. It’s a present for dad from Miraldo. It makes good polenta dad, I’m just saying…

Theoretically spending New Years at the worlds best place

First off, let me say I haven’t posted any pictures, aside from the few I’ll add to this entry. My previous experiences with posting pictures were when I would sit out and post using the free wireless in the square by my work. It’s too cold for that at this point and while I may try to do it from an internet café, I need to figure out some logistics first. Technical Difficulties R Us, but depending if you’ve read the big announcement yesterday, you would know that high-speed internet in the comfort of a heated home is three weeks away and I can guarantee them at least at that point.

Click here for the link to my facebook photo album of New Years


Anyways, New Years in Berlin. We were informed by Kim’s mom, who had apparently seen this on the news or something, that Berlin, specifically the Brandenburg Gate, is the best place in the world to spend New Years Eve. Considering I always thought that Time Square always won that distinction, I was quite impressed that we happen to be in Berlin at this time of year, so celebrating there was a must.

As I mentioned before Berlin was cold. I cannot express this enough. Being that the celebrations were outside and Kim and I not being one’s to have patience or forthright thinking that this would be a popular spot, we opted not to spend hours in the cold. Instead we went to dinner with her boyfriend, Jesco, where he warned us about crazy Berlin New Years celebrations and tried to explain why he wouldn’t want to join us. Apparently not only was this going to be crowded but he told us about the desire many a-Berliners had to throw firecrackers out on the street, from apartments, from the sidewalks, from train stations- anywhere. We thought he was exaggerating, so we bundled up in many layers and made our way to the gate.

We walked to the U-bahn station and noticed that yes, there were many, many firecrackers being lit in dangerous and inappropriate ways. As we climbed the stairs we noticed some American guys throwing them off the stations platform to the street below, scaring pedestrians below.

It became clear that maybe Jesco was right, from every direction people were setting off firecrackers. We joked that if one closed their eyes they could imagine themselves in WWII Berlin, firecrackers could be mistaken for gunshots and Jen could be seen running for her life.

But we trooped on. We got to our station and ascended onto the street only to be faced with even more firecrackers as well as many displays of public drunkenness. We refused to let go of our goal, and with New Years only half an hour away, we proceeded to the gate. As we reached the main street leading to it we became educated in the rules of firecrackers, on the street, which cars were blocked from, was where you lit firecrackers and fireworks, stay on the sidewalk and you were safe… well, safer. Except one family was not aware of this and had taken up residence on one corner to throw firecrackers at anyone passing by, what was more fun was that their young children would walk around freely, often narrowly being missed by a firecracker.

As we continued to our goal we came to a crowd and were stopped behind a police barricade. With only 10 minutes to new years we were going nowhere. We would find out later that apparently the park had gotten full and they were letting in no more people, so we spent New Years behind the gate counting down with people of many different nations, counting backwards in different languages and saddened that we did not reach our goal. I must admit, although we missed the official fireworks display of Brandenburg Gate because it was hidden behind a building, the display put on by those walking the streets was quite nice as well, definitely a better way to spend the new years than the lack of fireworks we get in Vancouver.

About 5 minutes after midnight they let us through the barricade, only to stop us about half a block later by another one. We tried to charm some police, but that didn’t work, so we worked our way back through the crowds, dodging fireworks and empty bottles, back to the u-bahn and into the apartment.

Although we didn’t technically spend our New Years at the official Brandenburg Gate celebration, I do think we did theoretically since the gate and the fireworks were in view while we hugged each other a happy new year.

And that’s the story of how I spent my New Years 2009 at one of the best places to celebrate in the world.