Dance Anywhere!

Hey everyone, just a reminder that Dance Anywhere takes place on Friday, April 25th at noon Pacific Time (9pm for us in Italy). Drop what your doing (but not your pants!) and boogie down for a dance party across time zones and the international date line. Don't forget to take a picture or video of your choreography/improvisation/hustle. For details check out the Dance Anywhere website.

More soon...about Passover and my status as Town Jew....

Coincidence?

Berlusconi is President again and I flushed my keys down the toilet today.

It was an accident. I had the keys in my hand while hurrying to do my business (number one), La Bimba waiting patiently in her stroller. When I got up to press the flusher button above the bowl, the keys just fell out of my hand and into the spiraling waters.

By the time I found the extra set of keys, my keys had resurfaced.

Much like...

o-RAY-o

That's how you pronounce Oreo in Italian, accent on the second syllable, and these delectable hydrogenated treats are making a comeback here in Italy. Or a "come" -- not sure if they've been here before. I bought a box from the fruit guy on the Corso -- after rejecting his raisins because they had hydrogenated vegetable oil as one of the two ingredients...the other being, thankfully, raisins...do all raisins come with oil? Anyway, the guy, who has long flowing black locks said, "Those are good. I ate a whole one and it gave me a stomach ache." Oh, the sensitive Italian tummy! La Bimba enjoyed the Oreos, though not as much as The Husband did.

The Husband and La Bimba are visiting the relatives WITHOUT ME. Glory days! I have to say, it is a relief to just be free. Of course, within 10 minutes of being free, I realize how lucky I am to be shackled to La Bimba and The Husband. Especially when La Bimba shouts, "Leh loh teloh!" when she sees a police helicopter flying over the gulf on its way to or from a drug bust.

La Bimba is obsessed with Peter Pan, Trilli (Tinkerbell), and Baby Michele (Michael). She runs around screaming, "Peter Pao flies! Baby flies!" So cute.

I hung out in Feltrinelli today, read a couple of essays by Coetzee -- on Gordimer, on Roth. Gordimer was on that talk show on Rai 3 (?) that always features that fabulous maniac La Littizzetto. I was so happy to catch her, hear her South African accent muffled under the blaring Italian translator. I bought La Bimba a "Heidi" book. She really digs the whole barefoot freedom across the Alps thing. So much like her Neapolitan life!

I nonni are in Germany, getting the Baden Baden spa treatments before heading down to Naples for what will be their last southern Italian trip for a long time. We are leaving so soon. I was really sad about it the other day, waxing tearful over a pink bed sheet flapping in the breeze. As I walked along the sea today, an old jogger said, "Ciao bella! Corre con me!" I smiled and kept walking (I don't run. Bad for the knees). My Neapolitan experience, just barely begun and hardly annotated in this blog, is coming to a halt. Not really. As it has been pointed out, I remain under the Neapolitan son. But now it's going to be all about The Husband's confrontation with scent-sensitive, gluten-free, smoke-free, organic, birkenstocking, whole grain, traffic law-abiding, I'm-doing-my-own-thing-spouting Berkeleyans. God, I miss those folks!