right as rain

I write a lot when it’s raining.

It is just something I do – along with writing in coffee shops, about the coffee shops, while it’s raining.

No, this post is not being written at coffee shop, but it is raining.

So yes, it kind of fits in the theme.

I am sitting in my bed.

For those of you who have just caught on to this sensation, or for those of you who forgot, my bed is located underneath some else (it’s a bunk bed. I’m not literally sleeping underneath someone’s bed) and that bed also occupies a room with three other beds. I am the only one awake, which is a surprise because usually computer screens light up the small corners of the room way passed this hour.

It’s raining outside, rather hard actually. I can tell by the blur of the orange light on the building across the road and can hear the deep sloshing of fast paced vehicles on the busy streets. I wish I could throw all the windows open and write this while sitting in the middle of the room with the only light being the criss cross stripes of light from the windows on the walls.

My roommates do not believe in fresh air.

They also do not believe in opened blinds passed five o clock.

I think I write when it’s raining because the rain makes me nostalgic. It doesn’t make me sad.

 It makes me remember.

Remember the good times, the rough patches, the moments I wouldn’t change anything, the times I wish would have gone differently. This nostalgic feeling makes me feel like I need to share something. I don’t really want to share those memories though. So I come here, to this public domain, and describe in detail the objects around me. (We all remember the coffee garden posts where I pick apart the tastes, the smells, and the sites. Or how about me sitting at the dining room table talking about the lights and how bright they are against my parent’s studious faces.)

Posts like these are not really for you.

They are not informative about my life or the latest tunes those cool kids are listening to these days.

Posts like these are really for me.

They are something that the minute I start to write, usually introducing it with a poorly executed introduction, I cannot stop. My fingers constantly clicking keys, pressing onward quickly, not thinking about what I am going to write next, just writing down the thoughts as they present themselves no matter what shape or form.

My spelling is even more atrocious in these posts than usual. The page of text, first written in Word Document, is lined with red and green squiggles under misspelled words and unorganized thoughts. As my spelling gets worse, my vocabulary heightens and I randomly through in words like “executed” and “atrocious,” These thesauruses like words are often used wrong, kind of like my speech when I am nervous or not thinking before speaking.

It takes longer to spell check the document than to actually write it.

There is no music playing, no headphones on, no bar’s stereo turned up to loudly, but yet a song is tuning through my ears. It’s not a particular artist, chorus or key, but a combination of the rain, the street side laughter, and the quick click of the keys.

I hope my music isn’t disturbing my roommates.

I think this post that was originally brought on by the rain, which brought on the nostalgia, was also brought on by the idea that I will not be home for thanksgiving.

In Italy, I didn’t really notice that I missed it.

Yes, I took in the fact that my entire family was joining together to eat and laugh and unbutton their pants secretly at the table. But I was in a country who didn’t know what the holiday was and the time difference made the at home celebration seem like something that happened while I was sleeping and I just missed it.

That I just didn’t wake up in time.  

Not here. Here I see everything. Plans about where everyone is going and whom they are spending it with. I understand the reasons for me not going home – I don’t have a break from school and it isn’t worth it. But I still feel a bit homesick. I miss the company and warmth my family contributes. Even Skype sometimes can radiate their heat just by seeing their smiles.

Rain is my favorite weather. It is cleansing, simple, illuminating, and crisp. It is new. It is familiar.

I like to write when it’s raining. To me, it is inspiring.

Goodnight/Good Morning.

Have a wonderful Sunday.

I miss you.

Xo 

It is wallpaper for the creative and the A.D.D.

Slowly the apartment is packing itself into little bags and suitcases. Books have been removed from our shelves and the refrigerator has an empty glow. A sense of sadness, but excitement lingers in the air. We are ready to go home, but now we question where home really is.  I want to see my family more than anything. I want to live in my house. But why is it so hard to leave paradise? I have to stop thinking about it, because I know, one day, I will be back. It is a promise I am making to myself right now. You are the first to witness it.

It rained today. I know talking about the weather is something I cannot seem to let go, but really. It rained hard today. The last week has been one day of rain, one day of pure sun, and so on. It is the perfect balance.

I had my Italian Language Final today and I am expressing good vibes on that one. It was so much easier than the test at midterm. Maybe I actually learned some Italian. Fancy that.

Tomorrow is packing day. It is also clean the apartment so it looks like how we first got it day. Both should not be too difficult. Just a little depressing, you know?

Verbaledudette’s Gift Guide Item Number 14 is: Blik Wall Decals

Now I never had these (don’t worry mom, my life is not ruined because of this) but my sister did. She had fairies or flowers or something.  But I think these are a fun idea for any age, any room. This site has so many to choose from. Giant stickers that go on your wall and peel off cleanly when you outgrow that design, how cool this that? It is wallpaper for the creative and the A.D.D.

Where to find this: http://www.whatisblik.com/shop/explore

Price: Ranges based on detail and size of chosen design

Have a great night. : ) xoxo 

I truly do love the rain.

It rained hard all day today. The sky was dark and thick drops poured down heavily. It was magical. I woke up to the sweet sound of the water’s ping against the windowpanes. (Okay, I lied, I woke up to my neighbor beating her children, but then I fell asleep and re-awoke to the surprising sound of my alarm clock, then I hear the rain.) It was beautiful.

I truly do love the rain.

I have not felt good all day. I feel run down, my stomach hurts, and I have a chill. Maybe I am unconsciously stressing myself out about going home. I hope I feel better tomorrow.

Verbaleudette’s Gift Guide Item #12: The Under full Tablecloth

I am an artist. I like to create designs and images out of the things you least expect. This is why this tablecloth is so perfect. When you spill ANYTHING on it, a pattern appears beneath. No need to cry over spilled milk when butterflies appear under the stain! “The table cloth that turns spilling into poetry.”

Where to find this: http://kristinebjaadal.wordpress.com/duk/

Price: YOU CANNOT BUY IT YET

So in he midst of writing this, I just discovered that those wonderful tablecloths are not for sale. That is right, they are still in production mode and cannot be purchased. What a joke!? I guess that means I owe you another one. Hmm.. Let me see what I have in my Santa gift sack.

Introducing Verbaledudette’s Gift Guide THE REAL item #12: We Are Handsome Swimsuits

Okay, so I know it is not swimsuit season, but you can always plan ahead. Maybe fellas, you buy your gal a nice trip to some paradise beach and get her this as a way to “break the news.” All I am saying is that these suits are unique and to die for. Whoever you give this too, will be the wildest thing on the sandy shores.

Where to find this: http://wearehandsome.com/

Price: I do not know, they are too classy to put prices

Hopefully that one is buyable. : ) Have a wonderful night.

xoxo

December Rain

do you believe in what you see?

Today was another wet, beautiful, grey day. I woke up to the sound of rain rattling the shingles on the neighbor roofs. Hopefully, I get the privilege to fall asleep to natures sweet sound. I only had Italian class. We reviewed for our upcoming final. It was not very exciting, but I taught Nicola how to pound and explode (the handshake) and now he is the king of it. He even corrected Joanna on how to do it. Made my day.

I just finished dinner with Joanna and now we are sitting in the kitchen being creative. I painted my nails pink and edited photographs. Joanna is painting a sugar pot for a gift. I love artists and sharing creative space.

Today’s gift is for the handyman in your life. Weather than be your Father Fred, your Brother Bill, or maybe Grandma Sue. It is uniquely designed, but still works wonders (so I have been told. Not really. But it looks like a wonder worker.) Paul Bunyan would be proud! Introducing Axes by: Best Made Co.

Where to Find: http://www.bestmadeco.com/collections/axes

Price: $100-400

Ciao. 

Title: "In the Waiting Line" by Zero 7

"we make decisions in three dimensions."

*The title of this post comes from a school's website that I just stumbled on while accidentally Googling the wrong name. I found it entertaining. 

I have stared at this bright screen for the last five minutes trying to think of something witty to write. Most people would quit and call this writers block. They would walk away and eat something in hopes of it inspiring them, but I am not hungry and I really want to write. The only thing I can think of telling you right now is how much I love the band “The XX” because their songs are playing and engulfing me within their lyrics like a baby swaddled in a blanket.

I mentioned earlier of a press conference I was asked to photograph because I am in charge of documenting photographically the art show, in celebration of Giorgio Vasari’s five hundredth birthday that is taking place at my school this Saturday. (I think I have failed to tell you that I am studying in his studio. His frescos are where I learn Italian. It is just another reason why I am so lucky.) The press conference was held in the city council building about a five-minute walk from my school (honestly, everything is only a five minute walk away.) I was introduced to a few of the artists that have pieces in the exhibition. They looked like they should be Italian artists with their squinty eyes and crazy hair. All of them had charismatic smiles and I am excited to see what each one is capable of artistically. The four of them, including Melania who is not only an art professor at my school but the curator of the event, sat in front of rows and rows of interested journalists. It was evident that I was the only photographer because I was the only one who was not seated and the sound of my camera’s shutter echoed around the high-rise ceilings. I could not understand a word said, but facial expressions spoke clearly as excited but nervous hand gestures guided a stroll through their own artistic biographies and reasoning for their involvement in the show. I took a total of two hundred and fifty photographs in a forty-five minute period. No one was surprised. All in all, my images turned out well and I am now in anticipation for the big night on Saturday where I get to dress up and am in charge of “capturing the moment” all night (no pressure.) 

These are some images from the event. 

This is Charles (my photography teacher, also he is married to Melania.) It was funny because he stopped to tie his shoe on the way over. I asked if I needed to document this and if it was part of the show. He said yes, joking, but of course I took a photograph. Then we get inside the building and he points to this poster. I ask if I need to take a photo of this. He says yes and then poses. Oh Charles. 

The beautiful, flawless, Melania getting interviewed. 

The book this man is looking at is what Melania put together for the show. It is quite adorable and is on sell for ten euros. I am really thinking about purchasing one for memories and to show off in Salt Lake.  This is also my favorite shot of the day. 

This is Nicola, my Italian teacher. He came to the event to support, but also his father is some amazing artist. 

Overal shot of the room. Notice the balding heads of all the men. Those Italians have hair everywhere but their heads, obviously. 

Again, Melania looking dazzling and puzzled in the sunshine. 

Italian was freezing yesterday which made it a little bit of a challenge to pay attention. I never told you this, but we learned the alphabet last week. It was strange because the Italian’s do not have five letters that we use commonly in English. This wasn’t apparent to me until we asked how to say each letter. Now I want to teach you. Here is your Italian lesson of the day: L’alfabeto

A (aw)

B (bee)

C (chee)

D (dee)

E (eh)

F (effay)

G (gee)

H (aka)

I (ee)

L (ellay)

M (emay)

N (enay)

O (oh)

P (pee)

Q (koo)

R (array)

S (essay)

T (tee)

V (voo)

Z (zeta)

Obviously the words in the (parenthesis) are how you pronounce them. Interesting, eh? I find it strange how they just neglect a few letters. It makes sense why Italian’s cannot spell my name correctly, because there is no Y!

Last night Joanna left to meet Ricardo and she sprayed something near me so much that I could taste it in my mouth. (Is this how my family feels when I spray my “sexual almond” spray?) Rachel went to the library and I had the entire apartment to myself. It is times like those where I get lonely, but it is nice because I can play whatever music I want and read in pure quietness. Speaking of reading, I finished reading The Perks of Being A Wallflower for the fourth time yesterday. I love that book so much that I do not mind reading it over and over again. It is one of those that you can relate to in some way or another and makes you think about your first few high school years. I know I just graduated, but freshman year seems like it happened forever ago. I have begun to read Lunar Park by my favorite author Brett Easton Ellis. I cannot tell if it is a biography or part fiction. So far he has been talking about how he started his claim to fame and also his introduction to seductive life of the real “brat pack.” His writing is so addictive to me that I had a hard time putting it down.

Also last night, around nine o clock, I did not feel good at all. My head felt kind of a balloon and my stomach was dancing around inside of me. Rachel made me some English something tea that kind of helped, but not enough to make me feel like doing anything. I went to bed at nine and fell instantly asleep listening to the entire Florence and the Machine’s “Between Two Lungs” album. Today I did not wake up until nine thirty. Twelve hours of sleep and feel great! I ate a banana for breakfast along with a nice cold glass of water. Sometimes I think I just get to caught up in the moment of being here and do not let myself rest!

It is raining pretty hard today. Walking to school, I slipped on a cobblestone and almost fell. Luckily I pulled out of near disaster with a graceful bend of the knee. The city is darker, covered in a grey blanket, but is still glowing. The lights are fogged creating a ominous atmosphere. In the studio, where I am sitting now, the ceiling is made of glass. This amplifies the sound of the rain while you watch the drops splatter on it. I have a slight chill because my shoes are wet.

I discovered today that all those photographs taken on my pinhole camera did not work because the film never rolled. I have to shoot it all again. But that is okay.

Well I talked you ear off long enough, I am going to go get a sandwich from Pino’s because I deserve it for being such a nice person. Why am I a nice person? Well today I smiled at everyone I saw and picked up some woman’s scarf and returned it to her as she was walking away. I think that deserves a panini. I hope you are having a great day.  : ) I really do. 

xoxo

Ciao Ciao. 

the ordinary mind is broken, you did it and you don't even know

Good morning. This post is being written from my kitchen table on an absolutely rainy beautiful day in Salt Lake City. Everything is so green. (Except for the section of dead grass over the fence and on the hill. It could rain all it wanted on that piece of dry straw, but there is no hope for grass to be its natural color of golfers green. Oh well.) I was celebrating this rain fall in the title of this post. I know it has nothing to do with rain, but it is indeed lyrics from the song "Rain" by Mika. Thus proving my point that it has something to do with anything.

I went to the gym this morning. It was a pretty typical morning for the ol'Body Wise work out center. 9:00 A.M. is "old people who should not be seen in spandex doing aerobics in neon spandex listening to the Black Eyed Peas while breathing heavily day because there spandex is too tight" time. I do not participate in this lovely event (although I did have my spandex on) but watching it while I sweated on the elliptical trainer gives me up most motivation and delight. (I did almost come to a puking point when the instructor bent over to stretch giving me a view of old, sweaty, saggy, old people bottoms.) I guess the moral of this paragraph is: the gym is a great place for me to get my morning sweat on AND for old people to get dates, work out and wear their spandex from the 80's.

This is a big week for me. Today I am going to finnish painting the kitchen. We (being my mother and sister and I) painted it a nice Tuscan Sun Yellow. (My mother calls is "Baby Poop," my sister calls it "Pooh Bear," my father calls it "Squash" and my Grandmother calls it "Different.") I will also clean my room and the hallway. It's a big day. On wednesday I will go to the dentist so they can knock my front tooth out and glue a fake one in its place. On thursday, I have nose surgery. See I cannot breathe through my nose, at all. I can smell (that seems to be the question everyone wonders when I say I cannot breathe, so i saved you the time from asking.) My nose is too small (ecspecially my nostrals,) I am allergic to everything that grows, and these little things that line my nose (they start with a "T" but I am too lazy to find out the precise name) are all swollen clogging my breathing passages. So this doctor is going to get his tools out and drill me some bigger holes up my nose and play around in there until I can breath correctly. Doesnt that sound delightful? Its like we are paying some guy to pick my nose for me for 45 minutes while I am unconscious until my nose is clear and air flowable.  

Now it has come to that time of the post where I do this Song Challenge thing. It used to be fun, but now it has become something kind of tedious and predictable. Take lasts posts for instance "A song you can play" and "a song you wish you could play" and then there is the "a song you like" "a song you don't like"  and "a song you want at your wedding" "a song you want at your funeral." We are just going down the list opposites. Do you really think someone is going to go back on to this site to find out what song I wanted to be played at my funeral? I think not. Its been real, but it has become real boring. But I will finnish the challenge.

Day 28: A song that makes you feel Guilty (not to be confused with "a song that is your guilty pleasure")

"Tempted By the Fruit of Another" by Squeeze

Now I personally love this song and it doesn't make me feel guilty at all, but I am sure it makes someone else feel guilty and it makes me feel bad for those who do feel guilty. (I guess? haha.) 

Happy Music Monday! I leave you with this fun song called "Whirrling" By: The Joy Formidable