May 6, 2009 at 8:36 PM
I returned home in December, cioe’ New York.. I departed Tuesday the 2nd… at JFK, took a cab, wishing that part of my life (airport arrivals) was more like the film ‘Love Actually‘
And re-realized that my life is not like in films.. but maybe one day it will be the storyline FOR one.. with my luck, I will be dead and will not get to see a dime…
I arrived and my mommy was downstairs waiting for me… this part I live for… she is my constant factor, bene o male, my common denominator, my security blankey, the one that knows what buttons to push, because she was the one that installed them, but lets move on, (She’s a whole other blog)…. she had my cab fare in hand.. what? did you think she would be downstairs in the cold waiting for me out of the goodness of her heart??..
HA!!..
I dragged my suitcases upstairs and realized that ALL of the plans I had, from the second I arrived were all ‘ralentate‘.. (to slow down).. If I keep stopping to think of the word I want in English, I will be done when it’s time to fly back in July.. I wanted to see so many people but didn’t have the time, and to make things worse, I got a head cold..
Moving on..
For the first days I stayed mostly home, I spent more time with my mom this time around, and I don’t regret it..
I saw Andrew again, he has gotten so big.. he called me ‘Annie’ cause I guess ‘Rosie’ was harder to pronounce.. I had bought him a coloring book, crayons, and markers at the Munich Airport.. and I saw how he loved to sing and dance to commercials on the Hispanic channels and how he would say ‘one, two, four, five…’
His father says he doesn’t like the number ‘three’… He’s so beautiful
Thursday came and I get a call around noon…
‘Hello’…
‘Hello, una sega…’ (literally in Italian : a hand job, kinda-like when we recapitulate ‘my ass’ when responding; ‘Hello’ – ‘Hello, my ass’)
right then and there I knew who would be so refined as to answer in such a way my morning Hello… Matteo Tucci… and the country boy from Florence it was.. he was in New York City.. too
I remember inviting him to lunch when I was in Italy and knew more or less that I was either going to take him to Smiths or to Danny’s job…
I never went to Danny’s job but I wanted to go and in as much as it was on Park Avenue I figured, Why Not?.. and so it goes..
We went that same day.. reservations for two at Park Avenue Winter.. I went to where he was staying on Sullivan Street by West 4.. took a cab and headed to lunch..
It was BEAUTIFUL… absolutely beautiful.. the whole place.. Danny pulled out all the stops.. is that how its said?..
We ate soo much.. from a simple entree to filet mignon, to salmon tartar.. and I had mimosas all the while.. and afterwards Danny took us down to the kitchen.. awesome as well.. there is a private room with a round table where you can sit and eat while viewing the kitchen..
He was impressed.. the usual question came up.. he asked.. ‘Rosa, what the hell are you doing in Florence?’..
aside from his initial reaction to when we entered the restaurant
‘Rosina, ma questo e’ un posto serio‘.. (Rosina, but this is a serious place)
DUH!! country boy, where did you think I was going to take you?..
It is funny how we perceive people.. how we think that they are above us when in reality, we are on the same wavelength or maybe sometimes we are higher without even knowing it.. and that’s how it was.. between him and I… the only thing that separates us is money.. the amount of money.. because when you look at us, I have studied and have achieved more than a degree, have more than 20 years of work experience that was NOT obtained in my father’s company, know and speak three languages and depend only on me.. He can’t say the same
But it’s funny how that it was because of his ‘simplicity’ that I loved him so..
Moving ON..
I spent some time with myself.. I walked around Chelsea, discovering Barnes and Nobles is no longer on 6th and 22nd.. and had to walk to Broadway and 17th.. and stopped at EXPRESS and bought an undeserving Asshole some gifts.. and H&M.. 
and went to Fashion High.. why not? My steps always take me there.. I saw Ms. Barnett and Ms. Riviere and Ms. Trottman.. my old high school teachers.. and while I love re-seeing them.. it makes me feel old.. or rather it sets me back into my reality.. that it has in fact been ‘sixteen’ years since I graduated high school… SIXTEEN YEARS.. shit!! and I am happy to think that I have accomplished MORE than what I thought I would have by now… but maybe… or rather I have EXCHANGED experiences for others.. the important thing is not to regret.. and I keep asking myself… will I? The important thing for me was to finish my year in New York City.. among my family and friends, and I did..
I ended my 33rd year at home.. and I began it there..
I went to Smiths and ate ceviche, made by my littlest brother Alexis…
met Friends from the past.. David and Rafael.. and the most important people of my life.. Tiesha, Ralphy, Steve, Michelle and the beings that are now a part of their lives.. and Hugo and Victor, all on the 13th…
NOT to speak of the beautiful get-together hosted by Ms. Lovell herself.. and my seeing my handsome prince again… but that’s another BLOG…
Its 4 a.m. here in Italy.. I am watching ‘QUIZ’ in Italian… and I have to go to sleep..
But I will continue this one..
I’m not done.. because this is not all of it..
Written while living in Florence
Lessons learned 