These are my pajamas

Artist rendering of my hospital room...My room DID NOT look like this.

During my four days of confinement at San Bortolo I was the source of curiosity for the staff. It started off with Ryan and I getting separated. He dropped me off at the entrance and went to park the car. The Army has Patient Liaisons to assist Americans from the base. None of them were in the office when I arrived.

This is a good place to note that Italians do not have a sense of urgency about most things. Perhaps it has to do with their flair for the dramatic. They do not get excited in the moments you would expect. For example, an impatient pregnant woman in line at the OB section of the hospital (me) There was a woman in line in front of me. I was definitely breathing down her neck. She moved closer to the desk, and I was still there, breathing down her neck. Italians do that to me all the time. She whispered whatever her ailment was and walked away.

The intake lady wanted to know if she needed to wait for the Patient Liaison to interpret for me. I politely said no and handed her my ID card. That is when the contractions started to come back. The heavy breathing started and I gripped the plastic partition that separated us with my sweaty hands. She looked at me slightly concerned but, continued to ask me demographic questions. Then she told me to have a seat, but I could not stay seated for long. I was trying to walk off the pain and soon I was panting again. I remember seeing a few nervous faces staring at me. I looked down the hall hoping to see Ryan, but he was lost somewhere in the facility. All it took was one guttural  moan for the examination room doors to slide open. Suddenly, the Patient Liaison was in the room with Ryan and I was being admitted.

My first stop was the delivery floor. I think if I knew that then I would have freaked out, but I was oblivious to my surroundings. Although I do think I heard one woman give birth. The nurse started an IV and things began to calm down shortly after. Once I was stabilized they moved me to another floor and I changed into my pajamas. The nurses kept asking me if I would be more comfortable in my pajamas. I kept saying these are my pajamas. One nurse asked why my leggings had sparkles. Another referred to my snoogle as a snake. When I realized I would be there for more than one night I had Ryan bring in rugs for the bathroom and my bedside. That seemed to surprise the staff the most. Did I mention there was no tv? I was bored so I did a little decorating, well Ryan did the decorating.

Four Days in Lockup

This could go down as the worst Christmas ever, but I am pregnant with my first child. Being pregnant trumps everything else. How I ended up in an Italian hospital for four days goes back to a few weeks ago when I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. The diagnosis was a surprise and a disappointment. The irony is that before the pregnancy I ate whatever I wanted without much consequence. Now that I am pregnant I have to watch my carbohydrate and sugar intake. It has been stressful trying to get accustomed to the new diet. I have never dieted in my life!
After a visit to the dietitian, I decided I would make more of an effort to be active to help burn off the excess sugar in my system more effectively.

I strapped on my support belt and started waking up earlier, doing the the grocery shopping, running around to office celebrations and of course looking for the perfect gift for Ryan, which I found. By Saturday I knew I was pushing myself, but I thought this is good stuff. I have my heart rate up, I feel energized and I am getting stuff done.

With Ryan's gift sorted it was time to find my Birthday/push prize. It took sometime to find parking at the mall and I ended up much farther away from the entrance than usual. The hike included a short flight of steep stairs. That is when I felt the first sign of trouble. It was a sharp pain in my lower back. I never felt anything like it. Sort of sharp, hot, pulling pain. I headed home.

We had dinner and were deeply entrenched in our nightly routine of watching TV and lamenting over all the shows we love that are currently on hiatus: Sons of Anarchy, The Americans, Mad Men, Homeland, Game of Thrones and Hannibal.  I felt a mild Braxton-Hicks contraction. Those have been common in the last few weeks, but over the course of the evening they increased in severity. Before long I was panting and moaning like a grizzly bear in heat.

The pain subsided a bit and I went to bed, but tossed all night. In the morning I called the Army clinic. They advised that if I could not talk through the contractions I should go to the Italian hospital. I was in pre-term labor, and the doctors administered medication to stop the contractions, as well as steroids to help develop the baby's lungs in case he insisted on making an early appearance.

They were able to stop the contractions with medication, but it took three days to run its course and then they wanted to monitor me off the medication. I was released last night with strict orders to rest, including NO SEX...

My experience in the Italian hospital deserves its own post, which will require reflection first. I can say for now that they were thorough, attentive and kind to me. The rest will have to wait.

Not the Baby Shower Type

If and when I can I avoid baby showers like the plague. In general I used to find most events that involve pregnant women and babies boring, icky or some combination of both. Over the years I got over myself and grew up, but the baby shower aversion clung to me like a bad cold. My friends began the baby shower chatter a few months ago. The idea made me very uncomfortable. There were a few baby showers at various offices that I could not avoid in my past. They were strange events with cakes made of diapers, and silly games that left the mother-to-be resembling Little Bo Peep.  The guest of honor always ended up with paper plates on her head and streamers wrapped around her body. Once I watched in disbelief as the the guests made dress out of the wrapping paper and made the soon-to-be mom wear it! I wanted no part of that. I finally confessed my fears to a friend, and she gave me a bit of sound advice. She reminded me that the process of preparing for and the raising of a child is a community effort. She said it was an important "rite of passage" to let my community shower me with their support. She added that I would need many of them in the months ahead.

Her words stimulated me and I realized I could have a baby shower on my terms. I discussed my fears with the friends I trusted the most. They assured me that my shower would be a tasteful event. Once assured of their promises we set a date: 23 November. The next important decision was the location. With holidays almost upon us it would be difficult to find the appropriate venue. My apartment was the obvious choice. The other details were easily the best part: the menu. We selected all of my favorite dishes. Some were purchased at the Commissary and others were homemade, but all were delicious.

The games were fun and mostly for the guests. Although at some point I did start tying ribbons around myself...The best part was support of my friends. It was just as my friend said. The women in my community rallied around to support me. It was beautiful and heartwarming. We had a few guys over to keep Ryan company. They stayed in the kitchen where  Ryan was frying up batches of his delicious hot wings. By the end of it I did feel like I had crossed another threshold. One that brought me closer to motherhood.

My history with pickles

I have had a thing for pickles since I was kid. My childhood best friend and I would plan our entire afternoon around finding the perfect pickle and taking it back to my house to eat it.

Somewhere along the line we decided my neighborhood had better pickles than hers. The truth is probably closer to we had more privacy to enjoy our pickled delights at my house.

She had an annoying older brother that messed up the vibe. We would go to the store select our pickles, then float back to my house in a thick fog of anticipation. I would sit on the couch and she would sit on the love seat. We would look at each other, then give each other a deep nod before tearing into the pickle. She was way ahead of the pickle game than I was. She started adding salt and pepper to hers. I followed suit, but she lost me when she she bit the head off and buried a peppermint inside of the pickle before devouring it. I have my limits.

Everyone knows the mythic status pickles have around pregnant women. I think the sour taste helps with the nausea. Cravings are just one of the amazing facets of pregnancy. I only began to crave pickles a few weeks ago.  Up until then I was fairly obsessed with grilled and boiled meat, preferably rib eye steak and turkey. Fried deli turkey is my favorite snack and recently I discovered if you wrap a pickle in fried deli turkey, you find new meaning in the word scrumptious.

Have It Your Way at BK

After running a few errands this morning I got hungry. Real hungry. I thought about the pizza waiting for me at home, but Baby Mac was not interested. I considered one of Ryan's homemade hamburgers, when suddenly Baby Mac "communicated" that he wanted a double cheeseburger from BURGER KING. Goodness gracious I have not eaten a Burger King burger in over ten years! Luckily there is a Burger King at the mall where I was buying maternity clothes, but it was too crowded. I drove to base and ordered a double cheese burger, fries and a strawberry milkshake (my dad's favorite).

It was not at all as gross as I remembered it. In fact I found it to be very satisfying right until I bit into the mustard section of the burger. Lawdamercy, did I freak out. I took the burger back explaining that there was mustard on my burger. I probably had that wild-eyed pregnancy look because they made me a fresh one with very little hesitation. All was right again in the world again

Me and Baby Mac

I drove home, enjoyed the rest of my milkshake and sat down to read through some of the pregnancy books my friend gave me and try on some new maternity new clothes.

I found a great store where they carry things that are super comfy and stylish. After a few minutes I announced photo shoot! Ryan is never quite sure if that means someone is coming over to take pictures or we're going somewhere or if he should just grab my iPhone. This time I just needed him to snap a few pictures for the blog of me and Baby Mac. I don't think I'll wear the boots with this outfit, but otherwise it is very comfortable!

Introducing Baby McNamara!

Last Friday we took our little selves down to the Italian hospital for my five month ultrasound. Excited doesn't quite describe how we felt, but we both managed to stay calm. I made the appointment. I decided who would drive and what time we would leave.  We followed the plan, stayed on course and that was it.

The fun part was a few months ago when we first found out I was pregnant. I thought we were having a girl because my emotions were all over the place. Ryan agreed just because. Then the meat fest started. All I was interested in for weeks was red meat. My dad said this was a sure sign that I was carrying a boy. Still I went on calling the bump a she.

Then one night I had the most extraordinary dream. I was in a hospital room, waking from a nap post labor. The first thing I saw were my feet. Ryan came into focus and I asked where's the baby. He cradled a little baby boy wearing a blue newborn cap. He was swaddled in a blanket..swaddle. He had Ryan's very distinct features. I was amazed. I had never seen a baby quite like him. He seemed very self aware. I stared into his eyes and he SPOKE to me in my mind. Yes, kind of like Renesme in Twilight. He said, "I am a BOY. Look at me and see me for who I am. I am a boy ok? Stop calling me a girl." His words were slow and his tone was very mellow. I woke from the dream with a start. Ryan slept soundly next to me. I nudged him,"Ryan, it's boy! The baby is a boy." He had a very typical response,"Oh good." He went back to his sweet slumber without hesitation.

In the morning I reminded him about my dream. I informed him of the indisputable facts of the matter. I had a dream. In the dream I saw the baby. He was wearing blue, and when this newborn spoke to me he clearly articulated that he is a boy. Ryan's response: "What happens next week when you have a dream that it's a girl?"

Unconvinced, he insisted we find out the sex at the ultrasound. At first I protested, saying I wanted to be surprised, but then I realized I already knew I was having a boy. The ultrasound was the confirmation Ryan needed. As the doctor lubed up my belly, she asked if we wanted to know. We both said yes. She warned that sometimes it's hard to tell, but halfway through her sentence the first image popped up on screen. "It's a boy without a doubt." I looked over at Ryan and he was nodding and beaming yes.

We chose a unisex name, Kennedy, but looking at his fuzzy picture we realized that we needed a much more masculine name name for this guy. Back to the drawing board we go. One friend told me not to worry because I would probably have a dream where he tells me what his name is in a few weeks!

Tunnel Vision

Me, Kennedy and my trusted feline companion, Frank

Life is this amazing journey. It is akin to driving through a curve in tunnel where you can only see a few feet ahead of you. At other times you can make out the light at the end. Tomorrow I will be five months pregnant. As I move into this next stage of life I feel very much like I am in the curve of the tunnel, not quite sure what is around the bend. In an effort to extend my vision I scheduled an ultrasound. This will give me a little more information about was is around the bend.

I left work right on time today, but saw a dear friend as I approached my car. We started to chat about the four-day retreat we facilitated with 30 Soldiers, and we couldn't stop talking. Eventually the topic turned to baby KK (Kennedy King McNamara). My friend remarked that she was so excited to meet KK. So many people are waiting to see KK. It was a heartwarming moment for us both. She is a very sweet person that has become part of my little family of friends here.

I have no idea what the next few months have in store for me. I am taking it one day at time. Today someone made a joke that they should start a pool at work to guess the size of the baby. I told her how important it is for me to take this process one step at a time. I think she actually got it. As miraculous and wonderful as this pregnancy is, it's still terrifyingly scary too. Taking it one step at time is certainly the best course of action.

Checking out at Ikea

Last weekend we took a trip to Ikea to look at cribs and other baby furniture. We came back with a pouf for my dressing room, a white bookcase, a rug and an island for the kitchen. We bought absolutely nothing for KK. Nothing. We hated the cribs there and made the excuse that we need to know if it's a boy or girl before we buy any furniture. I am partial to yellow because I have a lot yellow in my undertones, but the baby's father hates the mere idea of yellow furniture. So we wait a few days more for confirmation of what I already know. We are having a boy. I saw him in my dream and he was the most beautiful person I have ever seen.

You Only Know It's Camelot When It Ends

Every so often you hit a sweet spot in your work life. You enjoy your work, your work space is comfy, your colleagues are your work family and your boss rocks. It can be difficult to get all four at the same time, but when you do it's Camelot: The legendary time and place filled with potential and promise of the future. I have had the fortune to stumble upon a professional Camelot four times in my career, and each time I was happy.

The first consisted of the great boss and enjoyable work, my workspace sucked and I didn't have colleagues I considered family. The awesome boss left and I was thrown into chaos for a few months. Then the Dolce Vita happened. I came to share a great office space, with two colleagues that became my work family.  We knew we made each other happy, and understood that there was some special chemistry among us and the space where we worked, but we never saw the end coming. And that is how you know it was Camelot. It is the end that brings the awareness of the specialness of the period. In the years since we've met, we have seen each other through two births, two weddings and the fall of our Camelot.

It would be years before I would find another magical work environment. The change came quickly. My old boss left. Her replacement was her opposite in almost every way. Losing her was not the worst thing, but her replacement didn't inspire any of us on the team. Most jumped shipped, and then there was just the two of us, me and him. It was an exercise in conflict and resolution. We came out on the other side in my third Camelot. This time I had a great office, loved the work, my boss had my back and he became my work family. He was well into his 60s. When we talked movies or books he had an original perspective. There was the time we had him over for dinner and we were discussing the highly intellectual topic of R.R. Tolkien. He told me he remembered reading The Hobbit on the plane to Vietnam. We made a great team, but as all Camelots do, it came to a sudden end.

That brings me to my fourth and current Camelot. This has been the best one yet. My office space is enviable if not highly decorated. I love the work and I am respected for my efforts. My closest colleagues are my work family. We have dinner together most Friday nights and text each other incessantly about both the mundane and the crucial. The very best part of all though is the boss. He is a leader, a mentor, a champion and warrior. He is funny, smart, loyal and curious about everything. He is a family man, a religious man, a fair man and my friend. And for reasons beyond all of our control Camelot is coming to an end. It is a sad time for us but, I hold on to the promise that a new Camelot is coming. It is never the same, but it always amazing.

I watched the entire season of Orange Is the New Black over the Weekend

I know, I should not be holed up in my apartment binge watching American TV shows on beautiful weekends like this one in Italy. I should be at the beach or in the square with friends having a prosecco or taking a stroll up the hill arm in with my beloved. The truth is it is too hot outside to do most of that, and the beaches this time of year are beyond crowded. I am not seeking sympathy for any of this, but felt it necessary to explain why I watched the complete season of an amazing new series called Orange Is the New Black in two days.

Yes, I watched the entire season of Orange Is the New Black (OITNB) over the weekend. I love female prison shows. Women's prisons make for very good drama. I was hooked on a British show called Bad girls a few years ago, but OITNB is American and it is based on true story.

I first heard about Piper Kernan on The Moth storytelling podcast. I was intrigued. Then I heard she wrote a book about her year in prison after she got mixed up in her ex-girlfriend's money laundering business. Before I could start to think about reading her book I heard Netflix created a "web series" based on the book. This was the second series Netflix ran. The first was House of Cards, another hit.

I thought I heard the last of Netflix in 2011 when they changed their name and business model and then changed back and sent apology letters to all of their customers for the shoddy service. I was not convinced they could recover. After watching them flounder for months and my DVDs taking weeks at a time to get here, I gave up and bought Apple TV.  I did not look back until OITNB. There was so much buzz and critical acclaim for the show about a bisexual, WASP, New Yorker, serving time in a Federal penitentiary.

The critics and my friends on FB were right! This show is awesome. I watched all 13 episodes in two days. I even managed to go out for a walk yesterday. I was supposed to meet a friend today, but had to cancel as I needed to get through the last two episodes.

Piper's fiance's parents are right. Prison is changing her. Oh and Alex is very manipulative. I loved this showed. Cannot wait for season two.

My visit with a two star general

MG Sienko and me!

The Army has all sorts of traditions. Being coined is one of them that Americans have borrowed from the British. When an individual or a team has impressed a Commander they shake their hand and insert a coin in their palm. You are supposed to walk around with your most prized coin, and if you are at a bar and you whip out yours and it's from a higher ranking officer than the other guy, he's buying. I only have five coins so far. I am not pulling out coins in bars too often, but I do admire my growing collection from time to time. It is also an awesome memento of a great day.

We have had a steady stream of high profile visits in the past few months. The Secretary of Defense, Vice Chief of Staff of the Army, the Under Secretary of the Army, three members of Congress and the Surgeon General. It's been an exciting time and I have had the opportunity to engage all of them on the work I do.

Despite the family tragedy at the beginning of the year, 2013 is turning out to be a stellar year rich in love, accomplishment and happiness.

Summer wedding Italian style

We are halfway through the summer already, and I only have one beach visit under my belt. It's been that kind of summer. Azzura and Nao's wedding is certainly the highlight thus far. Nao is one of Ryan's air soft buddies. The team and their wives/girlfriends are part of our surrogate family and the third pairing to get hitched in as many years.

Azzura and Nao are both from Soave and have known each other since grade school. They dated for seven years and got married last Saturday 20 July. The wedding was a very traditional Italian affair, which is quite different from an American wedding. For staters there was no wedding party. All of the guests waited outside the church for Azzura to arrive, and when she did arrive it was a very dramatic entrance. Her brother drove their father's cherry red Ferrari with it's feline purr of an engine up the narrow street where we all waited. Her fairytale princess dress billowed inside the car. She would later tell me how she and her brother struggled to get her and her dress stuffed completely into the Ferrari.

Finally the car came to a stop in front of the church and she emerged unruffled. Her father walked her from the car to Nao, who waited for her outside the church. Inside there was a standard mass replete with communion.

After the ceremony we headed deep into the hills for the reception at a well known local winery. Nao pointed out the different grape varietals and encouraged us to try the exquisite red wine made on the grounds. There was an endless array of appetizers. Soon the owner came by and asked in Italian how Nao came to have so many foreign friends. Ryan and I sat together with Arnell, his Soldier friend in uniform and the Japanese-German couple Azzura met at language school in Germany. Nao looked at all of us and said it's just the way it is.

Us in Soave

It's Tuna Tuesday

Every year I try to out do myself for Ryan's Birthday with a big surprise. Two years ago I had big flat screen TV and matching stand delivered to the apt. Ryan was exhausted from the night before and happened to be asleep when it came. When he woke up I blindfolded him and placed him in front of the TV for the big reveal. He loved it!

Last year I got all of his best friends together at his favorite pizza place for a surprise dinner. They are Italian so their arrival times kept getting later and later. Back at the ranch I tried to stall him. Eventually he said he was starving and began to make his way down to Vesuvio's. Halfway there I told him I had to come back to change my shoes, and that he had to come with me. Eventually we made it to the restaurant and he was surprised. I also bought him a meat grinder. He had been talking about one for months. Now we make homemade ground beef.

Surprising this guy on his birthday is a challenge. This year his birthday is this Thursday. Last week I tried to secure a reservation at his favorite seafood restaurant for Thursday. Ryan loves the fresh tuna at this place. The problem was Claudio, the chef/owner, could not be sure he would have tuna on Thursday. He could promise me tuna on Tuesday. I made the reservation for Tuesday feeling secure in my efforts to surprise Ryan. He would never suspect a surprise dinner the Tuesday before his big day. Then the unexpected happened:

Me: Hi honey. How was your day?
Him: Fine. I bought fresh tuna for dinner
Me: But my friend Yumi is making us dinner. She wants us to meet her family visiting from Korea
Him: Oh can we go another time. I got fresh tuna from the pesceria. It's tuna Tuesday!
Me: But she made all this food
Him: But it's tuna Tuesday....

We went into the kitchen to inspect the tuna. It did look quite fresh.

Him: See, it's tuna Tuesday
Me: I lied. I made reservations at Claudio's. It's tuna Tuesday...

He vacuum froze the tuna. We leave for Claudio's in a few minutes.

Vicenza Highland Games

The year is 2013 and I am sitting in the Great Town Hall meeting known to all throughout the Kingdom as the Info X. As is customary, I was sitting close to the front of the Great Hall as the leaders of our clans regaled us with tales of their accomplishments. After a time the first Highland Games were announced. I lept at the opportunity to be part of the momentous occasion unaware of the athleticism planned for the day.

Two days before the games the events were listed:

Run 5K 

Scale a 7ft wall

Crawl through a mud pit

A stone throw

Wade through an ice bath

Climb over a car 

Slide through muddy tubes

Navigate a tire maze

Terrified of the majority of the events, the ice bath elicited the most apprehension. As the day drew near I intensified my fitness regimen. On the day of the games we dressed ourselves in raiment according to our lineage. 

The 5k caused me to draw labored breath. The sight of the muddy tubes gave me slight pause; I pushed forward. At the stone throw, my mate located a small stone for me. I threw it. Hard. Missing my mark I received a penalty of five push ups. Undeterred I pressed onward. The other members of my clan dug deep to encourage me even as I questioned my motivation in the dastardly mission. At the base of the seven-foot wall my countrymen provided foot and shoulder to hoist me over the wall. Once on the other side I landed squarely upon my feet and ran, stretching my legs wide to reach the next obstacle. 

When we came upon the ice bath I was near delirium. I waded into the water until I was chest deep. The passage of the other clans created a churning current. My mate shouted over the waves, but I could not hear of what he spoke. The water was a cleansing of the mud and grit. I emerged renewed. Climbing over the length of car was all that stood between me and glory. Once over the car I set my sights upon the finish line, and ran there with the swiftness of a cheetah. 

After the Games

Makeup, hair and a new purse

It's been an eventful few weeks.. again. GEN Ray Odierno came to Vicenza this week and I briefed him on some of my work. This was a big deal for me and all of my colleagues. He took lots of notes and asked informed questions. It was very exciting.

As much fun as that was, I'd rather write about my new hair. I love my new hair, and I think it looks great. In addition to my new hair I have been wearing a lot more makeup. For along time I shied away from anything more than a natural look. More than once friends have chided me that I should wear brighter colors, but I always stayed with muted tones..until now!

I invested in a set of Realtechniques make up brushes, and a few other necessities. I typically used whatever brushes came with the products I bought. I didn't understand the difference a good brush can make. A few hours of youtube makeup tutorials and in person discussions with with a dear friend and I was in the fast lane. I love these brushes. My favorites in the bunch are the stippling on the far left and the buffing on the far right. I use the stippling for my blush and the buffing for my foundation. It took me awhile to get here and I still have a long way to go, but I am certainly on my way!

Realtechniques brushes

In addition to my recent investment in makeup, I try to experiment with different looks.  I don't think I'm quite there yet. Most my looks are still very similar. I need to work on using different colors. The problem is I buy more of the same because I like it. I have to push out of my comfort zone if I want to achieve different looks.

I bought this very unusual purse. I actually wear yellow and grey often enough to have a yellow and grey purse. Today I went overboard and was a little too matchy, but it should be a great addition to my Spring wardrobe.

I only have an accent in London

Brick Lane

It's been a busy few weeks. Trying to keep up with it all has been nearly impossible. Work has been wonderfully busy. I want to say it is the most fulfilling part of my life right now, but Ryan might read this someday...

Other than sprucing up my make up collection I decided to go to London to get my hair done. I know it sounds crazy, but it became necessary. I was on youtube watching makeup tutorials, Jeni is my current favorite, but there are others. I stumbled upon Andree on youtube, then migrated to her blog. Suddenly we were emailing each other a few times a day, and then I bought a ticket to London. Yupper, I bought a ticket to London.

Ryan has never been to London. He's been to Cambridge a few times, but never to London, so I figured kill two birds with one stone. Hang out in London, meet my youtube/blogger "pen pal" and have her do my hair. I think that's three birds.

Boy oh boy did I have fun. We stayed at the Hotel Tune. It was the smallest hotel room I have ever seen in my life. The only thing smaller could be one of the hotel drawers they have in Japan. We flew in on Friday evening. On Saturday morning I woke up feeling like it was a very important day in my life. I checked to make sure I had the tube and overhead Google maps Ryan printed out for me and left him sleeping in the tiny hotel room. I wanted this adventure all to myself.

I ran to the station, stopped at the Starbucks stand for..for..I had no idea what to order at Starbucks. I have not been to a Starbucks in a long time and the barista's British accent only added to my confusion. I ordered a hot chocolate and then it was the barista's turn to be disoriented. My accent confused him. LOL Anyway, I got my hot chocolate to go, marveled at all the adds for American movies I had never heard of and reviewed the hair inspiration pictures I sent Andree. The salon was easy to find, Andree looked just like she did on youtube and her blog. She took my coat, and introduced me to my wash girl. To everyone there I had an accent.

How odd! I don't really have much of an accent so this was different. Wash girl offered me a cup of tea and it came with milk, sugar and cookies! After a pleasant wash and blow dry Andree got to business. My hair turned out great but, the best part was talking to her about hair, make up and other youtube bloggers. It was like talking to an old friend. It was the best day of my life..other than my wedding day of course in case Ryan is reading this.

You are making me blush

For the past year I have been focused on my physical health. I started lifting weights twice a week. Taking a daily multi-vitamin and a host of minerals and supplements. Through trial and error I have found a regimen that works well for me. It includes collagen, cod liver oil, a multi-vitamin and as much water as I can drink. Most days that's about 75 ozs.

The results have been extraordinary. My joint pain has disappeared, random breakouts are far and few between, and most importantly my immune system is stronger than it has ever been. Once upon a time I was the girl who walked around with a box of tissues because I always had a runny nose and was getting over a cold. Those days are gone.

With a more even toned complexion and less joint pain I have shifted my focus to make up. I have always loved make up, but I go through phases when I focus less on it or get into a rut of using the same eye shadow, mascara, lip gloss over and over again until I visit a make up counter and the salesperson introduces something new to my palette.

This shift was not so much prompted by a visit to a make-up counter as much as it is a new friend. Since I have been here, almost three years now, I have made lots of friends, but none of them passionate about make up and fashion. She challenges me to do better, make more of an effort and take it to the next level. Now that's what friends are for! Today she recommended I get of the individual lashes ball, oh and do something about my gray hairs. For the record my gray hairs are the bane of my existence.

I enjoy the influence. That brings me to my new blush obsession. A few weeks ago she asked if I wore blush. My response was hesitant. Blush on my skin tone can be a tricky affair. In general it should be warm, not cool, and highly pigmented. A good blush can be cream or powder, and it should compliment your undertones. If you are staring from scratch those requirements can easily scare a novice away. For starters what is the difference between a warm and cool colored blush? The words"highly pigmented"gave me pause and although I think I have yellow undertones, that knowledge did not help me understand what colors would work on my skin.

Illamasqua Hussy

Me wearing both...

Bobbi Brown Apricot

Enter youtube. I found a plethora of helpful videos and ordered two blushes from Sephora.com. The most popular blush was Bobbi Brown's Apricot Powder Blush. Illamasqua is another favorite. The popular Betray cream blush was discontinued and they sent me Hussy Powder Blush instead. At first I was furious, but at home I applied it and saw gorgeous results. A week later I went to drugstore.com and ordered a few of the popular drugstore brands. They should arrive this week. Next stop Ardell lashes.

If you don't post a pic on FB did it ever happen?

At the end of every year I set goals for myself. Milestones as well as small personal achievements populate the list. I did not create a 2013 list, and I'm not sure why. (Wait, I do. I was too busy having a good time in Vegas and New York to worry about making lists...) Instead while we were in New York over the holidays we agreed that we need to make a greater effort to travel, especially during the low season when tickets and hotels are cheapest.

The trip to New York was eventful and upon my return to Vicenza I was easily engrossed with work. A week before Martin Luther King Jr. day Ryan asked what happened to our grand plan to take advantage of the long weekends. I did some research and found a pair of cheap tickets to Barcelona. With the tickets out of the way I went apartment hunting. This site is my favorite. It is easy to navigate and the owners are responsive. Within 24 hours I found a terrific two bedroom apartment in the Born district of Barcelona. It's a trendy neighborhood with an obvious bohemian bent. Lots of narrow streets lined with tatoo parlors, bakeries and art galleries. Surprising little squares populated with seesaws and running children.

The apartment was exactly as it was advertised. A perfect, modern hide way with all the amenities we needed. A spacious fridge, large bathroom with a heated towel rack, Wifi and a huge bed. There was the issue of the fifth floor walk up, but it was quiet and peaceful up there. We even had a second bedroom, but the apartment wasn't quite big enough for us and another person.

We immediately spotted Mosquito on our first venture around the neighborhood. I love Asian food but, most of the time I think Vietnamese is my favorite, but don't hold me to that. The shrimp dumplings at Mosquito were delightful. Robust flavor and good construction do a good dumpling make! The beef Pho is also another treasure. A complex broth with tender beef served with a plate of Pho fixins: cilantro, basil, bean sprouts and a few scary slices of chili peppers.

There were a few other restaurant visits on this trip, but it is easy to say this was the most memorable. 

Upon my return one of my friends asked if I took pictures of anything else besides food. I did but, I didn't post them on Face Book. Which leads to an interesting question: If you don't post a picture on Face Book did it really happen?

Two weeks of mostly eating

I am back after two exciting weeks of mostly eating in the States.  It was actually a little over two weeks but, I am the only one counting. They were exciting weeks because Christmas eve, Christmas Day, a trip to Vegas, my birthday, New Year's Eve and New Year's day were included in the trip.

This was my first Christmas at home with family since I moved to Vicenza in 2010. It was the longest time I spent in the States since then. Not much has changed. What has changed is my awareness of the diversity of the people, places and things to do. I could go on here for hundreds of words detailing my first visit to Italy in 1993 as part of my college's undergraduate program, and how that semester abroad radically changed the course of my life, but I won't. I will say that I have been fascinated with Italy and Italians for as long as I can remember. At times the intensity recedes about the country and it's people, but it always returns.

All that being said, living here can be a hassle for a few key reasons that were highlighted after a brief jaunt to my NYC hometown. First things first: food.

As we drove past Red Lobster I stared longingly out the window, and said, "Wow, Red Lobster! Sure wish I could go there..." My dad chuckled,"If you want we can stop at Red Lobster for dinner?" My response: " I wish! It's 5:30 pm. No restaurants are open at this hour." My dad looked at me as if I had gone mad. Of course it was open and crowded. There was a 15 minute wait to be seated. Eating at restaurant anytime, day or night, that you want. One of the many things American city dwellers take for granted. In Italy most restaurants and shops close from 2 pm to 4 pm for reposo. Gives them enough time to eat and take a nap in the middle of the day. I forgot Americans do not indulge in the ubiquitous Italian practice.

Another change I noticed at home was how nice everyone is. New Yorkers are infamously rude and mean. I think we earned this back in the bad old days of the 1970s and 1980s when New York was sort of a scary place. Things began to change in the 1990s and the people of my hometown have grown to be much nicer. For the most part strangers were super nice and curious about me. The curious part was a little of a surprise. Everyone assumed I was from somewhere else.

Perhaps it was my wide-eyed expression when I walked into the new Joe Fresh store on on Fifth Ave. Or my confusion about when I would receive the $5 coupon I would earn if I signed up for a Duane Reade card. Upon bumping into my former boss from Deutsche Bank outside of Lord & Taylor she hugged me and remarked that I looked very foreign. The irony of her comment is that I was not wearing the fancy little Italian coat I bought in Vicenza. Instead I was wearing an old coat I bought at Macy's years ago but, it had a hood and it was freezing in New York so  I wore it.

The trip to Vegas was much tamer than in the past, but much more rewarding visiting with Ryan, a Vegas virgin who fell in love with the place with the same intensity I did my first.