Cartolina

Hey, y'all!

I know, it's been awhile. Just wanted to write a brief postcard to let you know that no news is good news: there's too much to do, too much to see, for me to sit down to report it all, much less reflect. I have seven more weeks here with the family in Turin before I take off for my month of travel in July. First week I'll fly to Paris to meet up with a good college friend and we'll go together to Taize. After that I'm coming back to Turin just long enough to meet another friend for a two-day long voyage to Marrakech, Morocco, via Milan and Madrid. (The recurring Ms are completely unintentional, an amusing coincidence.) We'll stay in Morocco for seven days and six nights, then fly back to Milan together on July 20th. I'll bum around Italy some more until a good friend gets married on July 26th, then on the 28th I leave Italy for Denver. Denver, Colorado Springs, and a road trip back to the Bay Area. I'll probably be in my own bed sometime around August 4th.

I've been up to the usual shenanigans of late, with some old characters and some new. There are two newbie au pairs on the scene, the first being a tall bearded creative writing major from Ohio who drinks wine like water and speaks English to his Italian family with a curious accent, as though they are more likely to understand an English that sounds somewhat like their native tongue. Seeing how unusual a male nanny is, he coined a new term for himself in celebration: a Manny. The second newcomer is a hip hapa Hawaiian who wears flat sneakers with black tights and thick eyeliner under thick glasses. After a year of odd jobbing in Korea, she nannied in Germany for several months before coming to Turin. Restless, easily distracted. "I'm running away," she says matter-of-factly, lifting the tiny espresso cup from its tiny saucer. "From just, you know, everything."

I just started to read Jack Kerouac's "On The Road," whose rugged, ragged prose eggs me to stay up later, write more furiously, and generally care a lot less about anything than I usually do. Can someone please explain to me the difference between careless and carefree?

Am feeling self-conscious about writing a blog, feel that to spit out so much unedited reflection is somewhat pompous of me. I hope someone out there (besides you, Mom, because I know) is getting something from this.

Anyway, will be back in the Bay soon enough, with thirteen months of European living behind me. Forward all mail to Oakland.