I finally got paper towels!

Yes that's right folks, I made it to the supermarket today while it was open, and I had money, and I actually bought a few things like paper towels (Hallelujah!) Apparently Mondays in Italy are only half days of work - probably because everything is closed on Sundays so they need time to actually get things done - so I got finished with rehearsal at 3:30!! I didn't make it to the bank, which closes at 4:10 (why 10 I have no idea), but I did manage to get my italian cell phone finally. I insisted on speaking in Italian to the sales people there, even though I kept saying "so, if I to phone someone" because I was forgetting to conjugate the verb "call" and kept repeating the infinitive. It's so frustrating because I KNOW the conjugation of "call", but for some reason my brain couldn't catch up with what my mouth was saying. The phone works, although I just stupidly spent 8 euros having a long conversation with my friend because I mistakenly thought that since she's in Italy, it would be cheap. 

Why am a better cook in Italy? Is it the culinary history rubbing off on me? Am I being creatively inspired to make interesting and delicious choices by the general appreciation of all things artistic and cultural? Is it the recipes my Italian stage manager friend has been IMing me? Actually, I think it's the ingredients. The incredibly fresh vegetables and fruits, not to mention the wonderful cheese, bread, and cured meats, are just creating really yummy things to eat no matter what I do to them. I accidentally bought red wine that had carbonation in it today at the market and even that was good. Tonight's dinner was a frittata with mushrooms, asparagus, and zucchini, with some parmesan and a little sea salt, and a delicious salad with these big buttery lettuce leaves and a red ripe tomato. I am getting really spoiled. 

Rehearsal was more of the same, although something funny happened right when I arrived this morning. I was about 5 minutes late because I forgot my umbrella and had to go back for it, and normally in Italy, nothing would have begun yet, but they had actually already started when I arrived. I tried to sneak in as quietly as possible because they were all sitting in chairs in a circle going through the recitative that was to be staged that day. A minute after I sat down, the director, Graham Vick, who really is totally fluent in Italian, couldn't remember the word for capital, as in "say that "every" with a capital E", and the girl sitting next to me said "capitale" or whatever the translation was ( I already forgot). And Graham said "oh yes Capitale, wonderful - grazie Maurizio" (who is the stage manager, and who was sitting on the other side of me) and Maurizio said "no - c'era Jennifer" because I guess he thought I had said the translation, and Graham said (in italian) "Oh Jennifer!" and, not sure what was going on (I had just walked in and was still processing italian) I said "Si" and so Graham said  "how wonderful - all your italian studying is paying off!!" And I said "si" again because I still hadn't entirely figured out what this conversation was about, and I was kind of freaked out that they were talking about me since I had just walked in. Then after a few minutes went by, I realized that I had just taken credit for this other singer's ability to translate english into italian. I apologized to her at the lunch break, and she didn't care, but I was so embarrassed until I had a chance to talk to her because I felt like a moment stealer or something. She didn't care at all and was really nice about it -  Italians are so laid back! Also, I think she understood in the moment that I had no idea what was going on, which seems to happen to me about 72 times per day. 

I have to stop watching youtube

Wow - things are really different here in europe in terms of people and their careers. The other night I decided to check and see if any of the singers had videos on youtube just out of curiosity, and sure enough, almost everyone had something. Then tonight I went out to dinner with a couple of people, including the bass in show, and he mentioned something about being on a horse and singing an aria on youtube, and I discovered that he had about 20 videos on youtube as well. I feel so unfamous and american compared to all the people in this cast - it's very daunting. But I'm not sure if I should blame myself. It seems like european singers start performing and working much earlier than american singers, who all often go through our educational system, followed by our young artist system, followed by years of arbitrary decisions made by casting directors who may or may not know the difference between good singing and bad. Here in europe, it just seems to be very different. People know things about opera - regular people - and they care about the art form with such a great passion and energy. Operas are on tv all the time here (hence the large showing of european opera singers on youtube compared to americans) and people tune in and watch with interest. I really regret I didn't try to come here much sooner, but at least I'm here now to be a part of the history and culture of something I've been studying for most of my life. I am VERY happy to be here, and I'm not going to spend my time wondering why I didn't come sooner, but instead, I will work as hard as I can and try to create an opportunity to come back. 

So today was the day off and since it was cold and rainy and everything is closed on Sunday in Italy anyway, I spent most of the day in my apartment resting and studying my music. But, as I mentioned earlier, I did go out with some cast members and spent the night speaking only in Italian. We went to this place called Eataly which is apparently where the "slow-food" movement began, right here in Torino. I'm not entirely sure what the slow-food movement is, but I gather that it's something like organic natural food. Not sure what's slow about it. Eataly is a big market and restaurant that has different counters with different types of foods - meats, fish, pasta, vegetables. The only place there was space for us to sit was at the meat counter, much to the bass's delight and my dismay. But when in Rome (or Torino)...! I only ate about 1/3 of my steak but my companions happily finished the rest off for me as I tried to explain in Italian that the reason I don't have a boyfriend is that I'm just picky. Except I don't know the word for picky in Italian, so somehow I ended up saying "I don't have a boyfriend because I'm just difficult." I meant to say that it was difficult for me to find someone I liked, but of course it came out wrong, and my dinner companions thought the whole thing was hilarious and very much enjoyed pointing out the ways in which I might be difficult (not wanting to eat steak, for example). They also had a discussion about how delicious horse is. When I expressed my disgust at eating horse, they said "you're eating a cow now! What's the difference? And horse tastes even better!" No thank you. 

I had more gelato tonight. If I don't get fat while I'm here, it's seriously going to be a miracle. But even if I do, it will be worth it. I have to go - there's a jar of nutella calling my name.

why am I always sul pavimento?

So maybe someone can tell me why it is that whenever I make an important debut with a company I have to lie on the ground for my first big aria? My first big role at New York City Opera was Lazuli in L'Etoile and I almost had a heart attack when I discovered that they wanted me to sing the first very delicate and high aria while lying on my stomach with my head propped in my hands. I got them to agree to let me lie on my side, which I deemed a better position for singing, and it has become a long-running joke with my friend Tim, who was the assistant director, that I practically shreiked "you want me to lie like that WHILE I'M SINGING????" at the first suggestion of that position. Well, guess what? I have to lie down while I sing Parto Parto, my first big aria, which also happens to be the most well known aria in the opera. The director has it staged so that the soprano sort of climbs on top of Sesto (my character) and then Sesto sort of turns her over and lies on top of her and sings the whole first section of the aria while lying kind of on top of her. Of course, the famous Italian singer who is singing Sesto in the first cast doesn't really have anything to prove, so she'll try anything. I however, am making my debut here in Italy, so I feel like I want to really wow 'em with my singing, which will be exponentially more difficult to do while straddling the soprano. 

However nervous I am about singing in weird positions, I have to say I have really enjoyed watching this director, Graham Vick, work. First of all I'm impressed that this english man is totally fluent in Italian, and that he seems to know every word of this score by heart. His method for mounting a new production is (at times excruciatingly) slow, but the outcome is really something to behold. Also, I love how he really gets in the middle of the scene while it's happening, kind of lets the actors do their thing, but guides them by being right there among them. He mouths the recits and acts them out while they're happening (which I have noticed I do with my own students while their singing if I'm trying to pull something from them and I really feel it in my own body) and sometimes he just stops everyone and thinks about things silently for several minutes, and then comes up with some totally brilliant idea that nobody was expecting. My favorite thing he does is when he looks at the scene and decides it's not working, walks over to the miniature model of the set, stares at it for a few minutes, and reaches in like it's Barbie's dream house and starts rearranging the miniature furniture. Then the stage managers look at what he has done, move around the real furniture to match what he's done, and suddenly the scene works beautifully. I just love watching him reaching into the tiny set and rearranging the furniture the same way I used to do with my dollhouse. I still haven't sung a peep or done a single thing, but I'm actually getting a lot out of watching. 

I STILL have not been to the supermarket. After rehearsal I went out for "aperitif" and dinner with a lovely Swiss girl in the cast named Rachel. Aperitif is this thing in Torino kind of like happy hour, except with tons of exquisite FREE food just for the price of one drink. A drink costs between 3-6 euros, and in the bar is a table of gorgeous food all for free. There are things like white beans sauteed in garlic, prosciutto and cheese on fresh bread, rice balls, brussel sprouts, all types of grilled vegetables, pizza,  - I could go on for a long time. And all of it is free. You could absolutely eat dinner and be stuffed for the price of your 3 euro beer. Pretty fantastic!!! 

On the way home from dinner I stopped for a 3 scooper of gelato - chocolate, nutella, and some kind of chocolatey,vanilla malt ball flavor. Jealous?

Oh, one more funny thing I learned - toilet paper is called carta igienica, which exactly translated means hygenic cards. And also there's a bidet in my bathroom. I am gonna be SO clean and sanitary! 

the case of the missing food

So last night I chatted with my friend Kate, who was here singing in Torino when I arrived, but who left for Bologna yesterday. Before she departed however, she was kind enough to leave me a couple bags of food and other various items that she didn't want to schlep on the train. We were staying in the same hotel, so when she left, because I was already in rehearsal, she told the front desk that there were two bags in her room, and they should deliver them to my room. They happened to deliver them while I was home for lunch, and I was happy to dig through and find things like olive oil and nutella. However, when I talked to Kate last night, she asked if I had started looking through the magazines she left me. What magazines? So she started asking me about other things she left me - an unopened bottle of balsamic vinegar, a block of parmeggiano cheese, some pre-prepared soups - none of which ended up in the stuff that was delivered to me. At first we thought they had left one bag behind, but then when I reported that I had received the olive oil, she said "but wait - the balsamic and the magazines were in the bag with the olive oil!" We wondered what had happened, and suspected that whoever cleaned the room took all the stuff they wanted figuring I would never ask Kate what was in the bags.

So this morning, when I got back from my first rehearsal, I went to the front desk (armed with the list Kate and I had created of all the things that were missing, that she handily translated into italian for me). The woman at the desk was this nice young brunette who speaks english and usually speaks english to me even when I try to ask for things in Italian. She has always been really nice to me, so I was surprised to see her get all defensive when I calmly began to explain that many things were missing from the bags Kate had left for me. Instead of her usually calm english responses, she started speaking really quickly in Italian, and said "well, maybe they started to throw things away, but when we told them to keep things for you, they stopped." And I responded (in english) "but that doesn't really make sense because they would have had to take some things out of each bag and leave other things in." She replied (in italian) "well maybe they had started to empty the bags already when we called and told them to keep things for you" and I asked "well then why were all the best things the ones that got thrown away?" I could tell we were really having a fight now because we had both reverted back to our original languages. She just seemed really shifty, and even like she was about to start crying. I wasn't even being mean and new york-y with her, I was being very even tempered. Finally she just said she didn't know and retreated into the back office away from the front desk. 

I walked away for a minute, but remembered that they still hadn't delivered a few of the things I had asked for like a knife big enough to cut vegetables, and when I returned to the desk, a nice man had taken her position. He was really friendly and told me not to worry, all the items I had asked for were arriving today and would be brought to my room. Then when I got upstairs, the phone rang, and it was him again. He said (in italian) that he was sorry about what had happened with the missing items, and if I would just tell him how much I thought everything was worth, he would take that much off my hotel bill. Hmmmm - this was interesting. If little miss "suddenly I can't speak english anymore" was so innocent, why was he suddenly offering me compensation? Anyway, I told him I'd give a list of all the missing items and he could help me figure out the cost. He agreed, and when I brought the list down to him, he was incredibly nice, introduced himself (his name is Lino) and said if I ever needed anything at all, I should just ask him. Scaredy-cat was still back at her computer looking furtively out into the lobby. I'm still annoyed that they tried to pull one over on me, but at least an italian man was nice and paid attention to me (finally!!!) and also I can probably now milk the situation for free stuff. 

I went back to the outdoor market today during my lunch hour, but couldn't go to the supermarket because they close for lunch. Then when I finished I rushed over there and made it just before they closed again, but I only had 5 euros in my wallet, so all I could afford was a block of parmesan cheese. Someday I'll get to the supermarket when they're not closed, about to close, and when I have money. I am really REALLY getting desperate for paper towels. 

sad day

Hi there. First I have to admit that while I was looking forward to writing the blog all day, right now it's going to be a little harder than I thought. Our beloved family dog, Humphrey, died last night unexpectedly. He was only about 9 years old, but he got an infection in his blood that is apparently very uncommon, in the end, he couldn't be cured. He was such a good little boy, and we are going to miss him a lot. 

Losing him makes me realize how important it is to enjoy everything while you can, so in that spirit, I will continue to recount all the funny things that are happening to me here.

Today got off to a rather rocky start. I woke up to discover that I had no hot water, and it was a particular problem, since I hadn't had hot water yesterday either, and had forgone my morning shower because of it. Yesterday I called down to the front desk, and was very pleased with myself for understanding the italian of the clerk who explained to me that they were working on the boiler until one o'clock. I did my best without a shower and went about my day. But this morning, when I had no hot water again, I was a little annoyed. I kept replaying this memory in my mind of the time I went to the hair salon where they are kind of nazis about not washing your hair every day so that it will be healthier, and one of the girls with really amazing hair explained to me that she only washed it once a week! Intrigued, I asked my friend and colorist about this girl and her hair and he said "GOD - it totally disgusts me that she does that. It's unhygenic, and by the way, it totally stinks after like the 4th day." It was only the second day for me, but I was kind of hoping to be beautiful and exotic and foreign in Italy, not smelly and dirty. 

So anyway, I called the front desk again this morning and she said she'd send somebody up. The maid buzzed my door almost immediately and explained to me that actually, I had a boiler in my room, and this switch outside the bathroom controlled it. When it was switched to 1 it was on, and 0 it was off. I realized in that instant that in fact they had not been "working on the boiler until one" yesterday as I thought I had so brilliantly interpreted, but that she had actually said "you have your own boiler and you need to make sure the switch is turned to 1". This is especially embarassing since that means the only words I actually understood in her sentence the day before were "boiler" and "one". You might be thinking - "well, boiler - that's a pretty hard word!" Except in italian, boiler is "boiler". So there you go. I'm practically fluent. I must have switched the 1 to 0 when I was fiddling with all the light switches trying to figure out what turned what one, since none of them actually light something in the room they are in, and I gave myself no hot water. I had also inadvertently turned of my refridgerator at one point and after I noticed my milk had spoiled, I called an complained about my "frigorifero che non funtione." Very bright, I now realize. They're going to start thinking I'm a real dummy soon at this hotel. 

I got up so late and the whole explanation and realization took so long that I had no choice but to attend rehearsals today sans shower for day two. So much for my glamorous american self. 

The rest of the day was a lot more watching other people sing, which I'm kind of getting used to. I did have an exciting experience with the coffee machine however. The coffee that comes out of the machine in the break room is really delicious to me, although I'm not a coffee drinker. If the machine coffee tastes that good, I fear I might get hooked on the cafe coffee while I'm hear. I noticed that all the staff has keys to the coffee machine that they insert and choose their type - long shot, cappuccino, with sugar, etc, and out it comes in a plastic cup with a perfect little matching stirrer. I love their keys because I imagine some union representative arguing for their salaries and crying "and they must have the right to free coffee at all times!" It just seems like a very Italian requirement. 

Some other good things that happened today were that I heard a rumor that the second cast will start working with the conductor on Monday, so somebody will actually finally hear me sing. Also, I really did speak a lot of Italian today  - my colleagues finally started talking to me probably because I seemed to have more confidence in my ability to speak and didn't look like a scared little bird like I probably did on my first day. The singers are all incredibly nice, and I have to say I feel much more comfortable here than I did trying to speak french in France. Not sure why, but it's just the case, and I know a lot more french than I do Italian. 

I have to go to bed now because I have a fitting at 10 AM tomorrow. It was supposed to be today, but I begged to have it be tomorrow because they didn't tell me about it until half way through the day today, and I couldn't possibly disrobe in my smelly unwashed state. I tried to say " I can't have a fitting because I'm all dirty" but I think I might have said "I'm all rotten" which would explain the stage manager's look of concern. Oh, and now I know the assistant stage manager's name, but I don't know the actual stage manager's name, and when we rescheduled my fitting for tomorrow, and I asked him how to find the costume shop, he said "just have me paged when you arrive at the security booth and I'll meet you there and show you." I couldn't say "and what is your name again?" So I walked around the theater after rehearsal and found the costume shop on my own. The theater may be confusing, but I'm not going to let the stage manager know that I don't know his name yet! After I had rescheduled the fitting, one of the other singers joked "just make sure you're clean tomorrow!" At least I think she as joking....

Just the beginning

First exciting news: I had my first Italian pizza tonight. You know how they always say the pizza tastes different in Italy? Well, it does. It somehow seemed more fresh and tasty than anything I had eaten in the states.

The reason I was eating pizza is that I went out with my friend Kate, who had her final performance of Lucrezia Borgia at the theater tonight. I went and saw the production, partly to see her, and partly to get an idea of what the theater was like in a performance mode. The first thing I found totally fascinating was the plethora of firemen backstage. It turns out that they have a whole bunch of firemen and an EMT on site for every performance "just in case." And I think there were at least 10 of them (yes, some of them were very attractive Italian firemen, and no, none of them gave me a second glance. I'm used to it by now). The other thing I found interesting about the performance was the length of the singers bows. Even the singers who I couldn't even remember, who sang one line in the first act, would hang around on stage waving and blowing kisses as if they just sang Norma. I have to keep that in mind as I tend to be a quick and self-deprecating bower. 

I attended the performance with another mezzo in my cast and the assistant to the stage manager. He's the one person who has totally taken pity on my and tried his best to talk to me and show me around when necessary, and I have no idea what his name is. It's terrible - he'll take me to show me where the bathroom is, and then wait for me outside lest I get lost on the way back (which is not impossible - the theater is a total maze) and I don't even know his name. How can I ask him now after so many bathroom escorts?? And the problem is that I'm not entirely sure what his actual job is - I think he's the assistant to the stage manager, but I could be wrong, so I can't look on any lists to try to find his name. Poor guy. 

Oh, if you're ever in Italy, I would strongly suggest avoiding eating middle eastern food while you're here. Why would I possibly eat anything but Italian food you ask? Because all the f***ing restaurants are closed at certain hours, and I found out, so is the grocery store!!! I mean what's the logic in closing the grocery store?  There are just certain hours that Italians decree that not only shouldn't you eat, but you are simply not capable of eating because they don't provide any food. I was starving after I finished rehearsal at 6PM and I had to be at the theater at 8, so even if I wanted to wait until 7:30 for the restaurants to open, I didn't have time. I thought, well, that's okay, I'll just stop by the grocery store and pick up a few things and whip something up for myself. But alas, the grocery store is chiudo also for some reason from like 5 til 7. So the ONLY place open was the kebab place on the corner, and it didn't really hit the spot. Thank goodness for the late night pizza to make me feel fat and happy and Italian. 

If you're wondering about rehearsal today, I didn't mention it because I sat there all day and watched again, so nothing exciting to report. I find it fascinating that not a single person in this theater has ever heard me sing, because I haven't sung a peep in rehearsal yet, and the gentleman who hired me has since left and is running another company. But my name is on the posters, so I know I'm supposed to be here and it's not just some crazy mix up like some weird Italian version of three's company. At some point somebody will hear me sing, I'm just not sure how or when. But who cares when you've got pizza and kebobs???

The first rehearsal

I got an email from my agent last night telling me that they had changed the first rehearsal today from 10 in the morning til 4 in the afternoon, and I was psyched because I had a feeling getting up at what felt like 2 in the morning wasn't going to be conducive me having my first day trying to work in Italian or to good singing. I needn't have worried.

So, I woke up this morning and took a leisurely stroll to the outdoor market which is only a few blocks from my hotel. It is apparently the largest of it's kind in europe, and it did seem huge and fantastic. The best part is the produce - there are just rows and rows of gorgeous tomatoes and strawberries and arugula and oranges. Everything is beautifully fresh and very cheap! I bought about 8 perfect on the vine tomatoes for 30 cents. Even with the weak dollar, it's still cheap in the exchange! In addition to the outdoor market, there is an indoor one with meats, breads and cheeses, and I decided to try my luck at buying some prosciutto since I have whole-heartedly given up my vegetarian ways. The problem with buying something like prosciutto is trying to explain how much you want. First of all, they weigh everything in kilos here, and I have no concept of how much a kilo is. I just told the woman I wanted some prosciutto, and she put the meat on the deli slicer and started making a pile. As the pile of prosciutto grew and grew, I was freaking out thinking that she was going to cut up the whole ham-hock and give it to me, but eventually she stopped to show me the thickness of the slices and I cried "Basta basta!!!" She looked at me curiously and asked (in italian) but what are you going to do with so little prosciutto??" I replied "but it's only for me!" and she kind of gave me a knowing look and said ." Oh, sei solo." And let me have what she deemed was a tiny amount of cured ham because I was solo. I don't know whether her solo meant alone or single, but either way, she seemed sad for me. I'm surprised she didn't give me the meat for free in sympathy. 

I went home and took a nap and had lunch with my friend who is in town, and made my way to the theater for the first rehearsal. I had to explain who I was to the guard at the artists entrance and he had someone show me the way to the rehearsal room (and thank god because it was a total maze and I could never have found it on my own). The guy who showed me was this big stage-hand looking guy, and when people told me that all the men in Italy were going to fawn over me and tell me I'm beautiful THEY LIED. This guy, who you'd think would be especially nice to a tall blond american, walked so fast and didn't even look back at me to make sure I was keeping up with him. He walked backstage through all these stage-hands and around this corner and when I hesitated for a second because I was confused, he just shouted "VIENI - VIENI QUI!" in an annoyed tone. Finally after walking through the stage and taking two elevators he kind of pointed in the direction of a room. 

I peeked in the window of the door and saw that the room was full of people, which scared me because I was 10 minutes early and in general, Italians are not early. I hesitatingly walked into the room and stood back for a minute, hoping somebody would notice me and take some pity. Nobody did. Everybody was sort of standing around like something had already happened, so I asked the first person I saw if this was in fact Clemenza di Tito rehearsal. It was, and it turns out that it started at 3 and not 4. I guess they changed it and tried to contact my agent but weren't successful. So now here I am, my first rehearsal for my first gig in Italy and I'm an hour late. Great. 

So, after the gentleman I had asked if I was in the right place explained to me that I was late, he just walked away and left me standing there alone. Finally somebody else (who I later learned was the very nice stage manager) took pity on me and started introducing me to people, but I have to say, they were like "yeah, who are you?" It's funny, in the States, somebody from the opera company picks you up and makes sure you get to your hotel, where a welcome packet is waiting for you explaining everything like how to get to the theater and when your first rehearsal is, and what will happen at said rehearsal. Then you arrive and usually have some kind of meet and greet where everybody introduces themselves, maybe says where they live, and welcomes you with open arms. Here apparently, you find your own way, guess what time to arrive, and then just stand there stupidly. I gleaned that what I had missed was the explanation of the production by the director, but the very nice costume designer showed me the drawings of the costumes (while I stood there stupidly) and they look really cool, as does the mock up of the set, which I looked at during another moment when nobody was talking to me. Then I had no idea what we were about to do - staging, musical, which cast, so I just kind of took a chair and sat in it. Of course, when it because clear what we were going to do (musical rehearsal) I realized that I was sitting right in the middle of the first cast, and the whole second cast was sitting on the opposite side of the room together. I'm in the second cast, but it was too late to move, so I just sat there again, feeling like a total dummy.

The conductor rehearsed all the musical numbers with the first cast, and I was told that we'd have a 30 minute break and then return, I assumed to rehearse the music for the second cast. But when we got back I discovered that we were going to be staging - the first cast again, and I was going to be getting a very sore butt from all that sitting around. I'm actually not complaining for real about all the watching though, because it's kind of easier to be watching at first in a situation that is so new for me. Although at the end of the rehearsal, the director asked me if I had sung this role before, and when I answered "no" He said "Oh no! That's terrible because you'll never get enough rehearsal in the second cast." Excellent. 

But the good news is, I actually spoke and understood a great deal of Italian today, and it's only the first day. I have no idea what we're doing tomorrow, but at least I know what time rehearsal starts.

At least I think I know.

Day uno

I'm here. First of all, for all of you that were sitting at your computers breathless since my last entry, my bags were NOT overweight! I mean, since I flew Air France they weighed them in kilos so there seemed to be more leeway, and I think the woman behind the counter was letting me get away with something, but yipee, no surcharges there! 

After waiting in the security line which was only for passengers going to Puerto Rico for a good 20 minutes, I was finally ushered into the correct line and hurried through security to wait in the terminal for 2 hours. But having a late night flight was well worth it because I actually slept some on the plane, and when I wasn't sleeping I was busy putting on my "understanding foreign languages hat", and seeing if I could get the flight attendants to talk to me in french. It worked about half the time, and frankly, it probably confused me more than anything since I know much more french than italian, and should not be trying to conjugate verbs in french when I don't even know the infinitive of most of the italian verbs. 

But it was fun to be in Paris if only for an hour. Ah, I'll always have April in Paris (especially if you don't count that horrible trip 2 Aprils ago to visit a french boyfriend which lead to tears and crisis and lots of long distance phone calls to my mom). And the weirdest coincidence  - I actually saw an Italian coach I had worked with in New York two weeks ago as he was boarding his flight back home to Bologna from Charles de Gaulle. What a coincidence that two weeks ago we were working together not two blocks from my apartment, and that we ended up having a layover in the same airport at the same time. It's a small word after all. 

So, here I am in Torino, Italy. I haven't seen enough of it yet to give my impressions, but what I have seen so far has been very pleasing. Oh, and it took about 4 hours of my being in Italy for me to give up being a vegetarian, as I have been trying to be since the beginning of this year. Did I really think I was going to come to Italy and not eat prosciutto? Who was I kidding? 

Wow - I think that sublingual melatonin is actually making me want to go to sleep at a somewhat normal hour. Or maybe it was the half bottle of wine I shared with my friend. Either way, buona notte - ci vediamo domani!!

on my way to Italay

Here goes. My very first blog entry ever in my whole life (pretty much).

I'm leaving for the airport in a couple of hours to fly to Italy. Everyone keeps asking me two things: have you packed yet? and are you excited? 

I've definitely packed, and I'm praying that my suitcases are each less than 50 pounds. I did the "if it's so heavy I can't really lift it, it's probably too heavy" test, but it's highly unscientific, and I have a feeling the people at Air France would have me open up my suitcase in the middle of the airport and start pulling stuff out as soon as look at me. 

To answer the second question, I am definitely excited, although probably more nervous than anything else at the moment. I haven't ever sung or worked in europe before (in case anyone is reading this besides mom and dad, I should mention that I'm an opera singer, and I'm on my way to Italy to rehearse and perform an opera there), and in fact I only have been to Italy once for about 10 minutes to do some auditions, so I have absolutely no idea what to expect. I know for sure there won't be any nice arts administrator waiting for me at the airport with a sign with my name on it like in Columbus or Milwaukee for example. In fact, the italians won't even know I've arrived until I show up to the first day of rehearsal (how exactly do I get to the theater, by the way?). 

But I've learned my music, packed my life up, and am welcoming this new adventure with open -  if perhaps a bit heavy laden with overweight suitcases - arms. 

Italia - Io vengo!!!