American Girl in Italy

How does the blue mold get in Gorgonzola? Have you ever heard the rocks at Castiglioncello sing and why do writers always seek solace in Italy? Time for me to find the answers to these and see, if in doing so, I also find my home.

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Location: Rome, RM, Italy

i am actually the lost royal heir to the small kingdom of Birundi...having been secreted away by my wet nurse when mean overlords arrived turning our little known, yet terribly chic fiefdom into a nasty republic. now my people sit glued with their eyes glazed.....dreaming of distant IRA's and stock options, having long forgotten the taste of sweet green olive oil and the scent of rosemary.

09 November 2006

Seeing your name in print

its nice to be noticed professionally. in the last week i have recieved two calls and one email from persons in the wine trade congratulating me on my new monthly wine column in The American magazine.

but nicer still than this accolade has been and is the support i often get from the magazine's editor. Christopher has helped me past a few skinned knees and bloody noses to see that writing professionally, while damned hard, is well worth the effort and for that I feel like I am growing creatively and that is something fun to do when you are a late bloomer in the writing world. add to that some sweet text messages and e-mails from friends old and new who like my poetry and prose and who do not think what i write is useless dribble and i begin to feel myself more confident, as well as blushingly proud.

now that is not a feelin us southern gals try and cultivate. it usually leaves us embarassed or worse yet, fully expecting the gods to smack us down for feelin a uppity. but sassy i feel today, and for one day at least, the gods be damned.

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