Reflections and Resolutions

Either due to the fact that I've never really left academia, or the fact that I live in a country that shuts down completely in August as everybody seeks refuge from the heat of the summer, September has always been a time of new beginnings for me. More so than the turn of the new year on January 1st, the beginning of September has always prompted me to reflect on the past year and make goals and resolutions for the months to come.

This summer Alberto and I didn't take any grand vacations. We skipped out on both Minnesota and Sardinia (our vacation spots of choice/force) due to financial issues. Instead, I hopped up to Glasgow on a budget flight for 5 days to visit one of my best friends, Meike, who I met some 5 years ago or so while we were both living and working in Belgium. The other 10 days of my vacation were spent at home in Milan (Cinisello Balsamo, to be exact), hanging out on the balcony with Alberto and Nikita, reading books, doing some major house cleaning, throwing myself back into cooking and yoga and just plain relaxing. And I must say, it's been the best damn vacation I've had in years.

The past six months have been pretty hectic for us. I planned and executed a major event for an international conference at work all while planning and executing with Alberto the move into our new apartment and all the furniture and appliance buying that went along with it. Both of these events came to fruition in March. Then in May I was thrown into a new role at work. I single-handedly packed up my old office and moved across town to the main campus of the hospital where I found a nice cushy office and looks of surprise from the others that work there. The change was abrupt for everybody involved and I stepped into my new role with very little instruction. I quickly found that there was a whole lot of shit left over from my predecessor that needed to be cleaned up in a hurry and I did what any good Midwesterner would do, I grabbed my shovel and got to work. While I made a lot of important headway in the three and a half months before I broke for vacation, I also made a major realization. My new job is really F-in' stressful. It is so entirely rewarding at times but it is also so utterly stressful at others. I am the person who deals with all the problems and paperwork and bureaucracy of a major research institution, which is not an easy task to do in Italy, a country with so much red tape it makes the American DMV seem like paradise. Let's not even get into the fact that I do it all in a language which is not my own. But I must admit, I also get a nice new salary to match the responsibilities, lots of perks (new phone, iPad, dinners at Michelin star restaurants) and the recognition from my boss. It's a trade-off indeed, but I was admittedly unprepared for the depths of the trade.

Outside work my reflections of the year take on a bit darker tone. The economic and political climate in Italy is still amazingly dismal. These factors seep into our everyday lives. A non thorough understanding of the Italian tax system left me with a 2000 Euro debt to the Italian equivalent of the IRS which I am currently paying off. Alberto, still working freelance despite his best attempts to secure something more stable, goes through dry spells of work that leave him anxious and agitated. So many of our friends have been laid off, changed jobs or are so severely underpaid, and their moods reflect well their situations. Money seems to be everybody's gripe. Meanwhile, in politics, there is so much infighting and absolute absurdity centered around Berlusconi from his felony fraud conviction that nothing is getting done, nothing except racist remarks toward the country's first black congresswoman, it seems. As some protesters threw bananas at her at a recent event and another politician said something about her looking like an orangutan, I almost lost it, tears actually welled up at one point. How the hell am I living in such an ignorant and ridiculous place run by people that care nothing about entire generations of un- or under-employed workers but spend all their energy trying to defend a thief and liar and launching cruel insults at a woman who is just trying to do her job?

With my work stress and my Italy-related stress coming to a head, I needed a break this year, bad. I felt a bit like I was caught in a thunderstorm without an umbrella or cute wellies to make puddle stomping fun. I was just drenched, and tired. Trying to weather all of this in a country that is not your own adds another layer of complexity. People here never really understand my perspective on things. I come from a different culture, a country with a different history, habits and work ethic. Yet people at home don't understand it either. Unless you've spent a significant amount of time living immersed in a different culture it is impossible to understand the difficulties one faces in a country that is not their own. I say this not as a complaint. I fully realize that living in Italy is a choice I made. Sometimes, however, even our best choices bring unexpected difficulties.

When I was young my mother often told me I would surely get an ulcer from all the worrying I do. I have always taken the world's weight on my shoulders, somehow feeling the need to take responsibility for all the wrong in the world, for the problems of everybody around me. And this year, with turmoil behind every corner of my life, with stressed out friends and coworkers, the weight was adding up quickly. Luckily, science has since countered the myth that stress leads to ulcers. But with a PhD in psychology, I know the other problems it can lead to, and I know I am particularly susceptible.

Ever the optimist, I boarded the plane for Glasgow feeling hopeful that I would find a bit of relief. I ran into the open arms of one of my best friends who knows me all too well and immediately took me to the best hamburger joint in town. We spent hours and hours talking, we shopped, we (she) did our nails, we celebrated her birthday. We planned a new project to work on together based on our shared love of science and well-being. She took me to two of her yoga classes. HOT yoga, holy shit. And... I came out of those 5 days feeling better than I ever had in the past 6 months.

Refreshed and rejuvenated, I spent the next week here at home organizing, mentally preparing myself for my reentry into the post-vacation world. I read books, I cleaned like it was spring, and organized my closet. I spent quality time with Alberto, talking, laughing, cuddling our cat. I kept a low-profile on Facebook and didn't spend a lot of time messaging my friends. I dove back into my lost love of cooking and I kept up the yoga practice at home, without the heat of course. Most importantly, I spent a lot of time implementing good habits and thinking about how I will structure my life once I'm back in the office, starting tomorrow, to deal with the stress in an efficient manner. I know that a lot of my stressors can't be avoided but the way in which I deal with them can definitely be altered, and I have full intentions to do so.

So, to put the resolutions in 21st century stone... these are a few of the steps I'm planning to take:

1) Yoga. The most tried and true natural way to make your parasympathetic nervous system more efficient at dealing with stress. Don't believe me? Read The Science of Yoga by William Broad.You will be surprised at some of the scientific findings. I promise myself to practice safely, recognizing my limits, but also to practice consistently (at least 3 times/week). It needs to become a priority in my life. I will visit a studio here in Milan before the end of the week to sign up for classes.

2) Reading. I have an innate thirst for knowledge on a range of diverse topics. I will read more often, searching for reliable sources of information and not falling prey to the media's interpretation of things.

3) Public transportation. Our car has been at the mechanic more often than not in the past 4 months yet our financial situation limits us from buying a new one. We will still keep it around for our beloved weekend trips to the lake and for practical conveniences like grocery shopping, but I will no longer drive to work. The hour commute to work via public transportation will now be my reading time. This will save a bit of money but, more importantly, it will save me the stress of Italian driving. Also, my driver's license expired on my birthday, August 22nd, and I'm going to leave it at that for now.

4) Dealing with social pressure. This is a big one for me here in Italy. Friends seem to think that it is their god-given right to see me every weekend. When you have friends from different social circles all pressuring you every weekend, it gets to be too much to juggle. I know it sounds cruel if I say that I don't want to see them all, all the time, but sometimes it just isn't meant to be and the pressure they put on me really stresses me out. I will practice saying no, turning down invitations, without feeling guilt. I will try to make my friends understand that a spending time at home, with my boyfriend, or with other friends, is something that I need to do every once in a while and is not a sign of a deteriorating friendship. If any of my Italian friends are reading this, I love you, I just can't commit to you the way other Italians may be able to. I am different, and that's something you need to learn to deal with. I have friends that I go years without seeing. They are some of the best friends in the world. If you can't spend a few weeks away from me without doubting our friendship, I can't make that my problem.

5) Negative talk. I will try not to engage, whether it be about work, colleagues, relationship problems or life in general. I will vent when I need to, to trusted sources, but will try not to cross lines into being cruel or blur the lines between my personal and professional life. This becomes difficult for me when I am stressed and just want to rant but hopefully the other points will help alleviate the stress.

6) Cooking. I will plan and execute healthy dinners at home as often as possible. Alberto is totally on board after too many grill-outs and meat and potato fests this summer. I've let the cooking slide in the past few months while being stressed. We will get back to eating more fresh produce with a better veggie/grain/legume/fish/meat balance.

Now, sitting on my balcony on my last day of vacation, with the sun shining and a cup of green tea, fresh banana walnut muffins to boot, I feel like I can take on the world. I know that the upcoming year will pose new challenges but I feel that the time spent reflecting has given me some insight on how to deal. I will focus on the positive in my life, my amazing partner, my rewarding career, my supportive friends and family. I'm incredibly thankful for these things. Just as I am, despite all my recent complaining about this country, incredibly thankful for the Italian habit of taking extended vacations in the month of August, a time that, if used properly, can work wonders for the human psyche.

my first selfie at the ripe old age of 33.
Why is my face a different color than the rest of my body? Time for new foundation!

And now I have an iPad.

And I'm realizing what it's like to never be disconnected. I may have to set some limits.

Our new favorite lake

Lake Segrino, for the second Saturday on a row. I could get used to this.

In other news, thanks to my new job I now have a super smart phone. I just might be tempted to post pictures more often. No promises on long texts though. I'm still a bit too lazy for that.

sometimes it all comes together....

An updated photo... just because it turned out great. Last weekend we went to our friend Giangi's house for his birthday party. Around midnight, when the neighbors started to complain, we decided to head out to finish the evening in a local bar. As girls often do, a bunch of us congregated in front of a mirror to make sure we looked decent enough to be seen in public. My friend Silvia and I compared lipstick shades while our friend Chiara ran her fancy Armani blush over our cheeks. My friend Filomena, who took this photo, took another of me the same evening in which I look like The Joker on LSD. We'll stick with this one.

Chinese hair cut

I love the Chinese.

This is a controversial statement here in Italy. Everybody here seems to have a love/hate relationship with the Chinese. There's been a huge influx of Chinese immigrants in recent years and a lot of Italians hate this. "They're taking over the city!" "They don't even bother learning Italian!" You hear of lot of the typical anti-immigrant sentiment directed at the Chinese, as they seem to be the only ones with enough liquidity in the midst of this huge italian economic crisis to buy up shops and cafes and hair salons. The Italians seem to resent the hell out them, yet their prices on just about anything can't be beat, so in tough times one can't help but turn toward them for basic needs.

While living in Belgium, my good friend and colleague Meike would cut my hair. She's a neuroscientis who would sometimes turn our lab into her make-shift hair salon. Other times I would buy a bottle of wine and she would come over to my place. We would set up shop in my living/dining room, with a couple of good episodes of our current American TV obsession streaming on the computer, and she would spend a few hours cutting and styling for me. Obviously we would follow this with a night out on the town and a hungover morning of more TV. Those were good times.

Since moving back to Italy, getting my hair cut has been an issue for me. At first I went to a hair salon near my apartment. But the prices kept creeping up every time I went, and I swear my stylist was stoned half the time. Conversation with her was painful. A person can't really be that vapid without having consumed some sort of mind-altering substance. Now, I'm not one to judge people on their extracurricular activities, but when you look and sound all dazed and confused on the job and accidently give me a pixie cut, you can be pretty damn sure I won't be coming back for more.

When the pixie had grown out long enough my friend Silvia gave me a blunt bob. Straight around with straight bangs. It was awesome, but now that my hair is even longer, and because I have so damn much of it, I needed something a bit layered to make the growing-out process a bit more bearable. Silvia told me she can only do straight, worried that layers would be too complicated. After all, she's a graphic artist, not a hair stylist.

But damn, salon prices in Italy are through the roof these days and Alberto and I are not exactly rolling in the dough lately. Today I was at that point where I needed to get my hair cut, NOW. I knew exactly what I wanted. My friend Marta, a few years ago while growing out her short cut, got an awesome layered cut that resembled Joan Jet in some ways. It was cool, rocker-esque, and I've wanted it ever since. Somehow though, I've never had the right length and the Italian stylists were always reluctant to give me what I wanted. Apparntly Joan Jet rockin' layers are not so "in", but since when have I ever cared about following trends?

So today... I went to the only hair salon open in our neighborhood on a Sunday afternoon. The Chinese girl had hair exactly how I want mine to be, long and straight with blunt-cut bangs. I told her I wanted her hair and she laughed, seeing how short mine was. But instantly she took my hair in her hands and, in an Italian I could hardly make out, explained that she would need to put some layers in to make it grow out nicely. I explained my Joan Jet idea and she nodded knowingly and went to work. There was no further conversation. She chatted in Chinese with her colleagues from time to time and we listened to some Chinese pop song they were playing on their sound system. My eyes darted around, looking at the pictures of Chinese people with fashionable hair dos hanging on the wall, as I remembered the words of my vapid stoned Italian stylist "Who knows what type of products they use. I'm always having to fix my clients hair after they try to save some money by going to the Chinese. Just think, once one of my clients decided to try to get her color done at a Chinese salon and her hair started falling out!" Uh huh.

The end product is perfect. Exactly what I wanted. The best part, it only cost 9 Euro. It amazes me sometimes how well communcation works when both parties are foreign and neither is speaking their mother-tongue. There's some sort of all-knowing sympathy that each party has for the other.

So with that, I will say it again. I love the Chinese in Italy. Somehow they make me feel more at home. Friendlier and much less pretentious than their Italian competitors, they've definitley earned a new loyal client.

let's see...

You'd think I'd have a lot to say since I haven't posted any updates since March. Hmmm...

quick round-up:

I have a new job. It's awesome... way better than I could have expected. I work in the urology department of a big hospital for the two most important surgeons in their field in all of Italy. I now know way more than the average person should probably know about prostates. Men talk to me openly about their incontenence and erectile problems. It was weird at first, but now it's just all in a days work.

Our old pervy neighbor broke a hip a couple of months ago and has been in the hospital ever since. He got especially pervy before this happened. I feel bad about not feeling bad about his current state, but at least we have had some peace and quiet in the courtyard lately.

Fabrizio, the crazy upstairs neighbor, has been in and out of the psych ward. This has also offered us some peace and quiet, although when he's home he still stops by at least 3 times a day to demand that Alberto make him some coffee. He's become some sort of staple in our lives and we actually miss the weirdo when he's in the hospital, but then when he comes back we realize we didn't really miss him all that much.

I'm on a real diet for the first time in my life. My days of wine and beer drinking and salami and cheese eating have finally caught up with me. Today is day 2 of my diet. I made chocolate banana muffins for Alby and Claudio tonight and only tasted half of one. I'm guessing this will only last until the weekend, but we'll see. Eight - ten pounds is my goal, to get back to the weight I was when I met Alby. I've also got a fancy gym membership. I went to a group conditioning class yesterday and I can hardly walk today. Damn, I'm old. Despite the pain, I went for a 40 minute walk tonight. The weather was beautiful and I reckon we won't have too many more days like today before the cold grey rain that defines the Milan winter sets in. I've got to enjoy the sun while it lasts.

Oh, and just in case you didn't know, Italy is in economic shambles right now. Thank god for my job. Things are looking grim out there. Alby is scraping by with some free-lance work, but times are indeed tough for many right now. Yesterday I dared to think about how much gas actually costs. Converting liters to gallons and Euro to Dollars we currently pay $8.86 per gallon. Ouch. Needless to say, we don't go out much these days. Luckily most of our friends are in the same boat so we have a lot of poor people dinner parties where we eat pasta and drink discount beer. It's awesome, except that both pasta and beer are prohibited from my diet plan. Like I said, this may have to be a 5-day a week diet.

Now that I'm a bit settled in a routine I'll see if I can actually write something sometimes. Also because I don't get to talk to the three of you who might read this on a regular basis. I miss all my friends and family afar!!

Subway observations

I took the subway, or in Milan talk, "the Metro" today for the first time in months and was reminded of how there are very few things that I find more aesthetically absurd than drawn-on eyebrows. It's like a terrible accident... one of those horrible scenes that you can't bear to see, yet can't manage to tear your eyes from at the same time. Why do so many women feel the need to completely shave off their real eyebrows and draw a thin, dark line above the area where their brow stubble is peaking through? I saw 2 in the arc of 20 minutes... if we extrapolate that statistically to the entire Milan metro area population it means there are quite a few women in this city that are afflicted with the drawn-on brow syndrome. Is there some sort of psychological disorder that causes them to rip out their real brows? Is it a cultural thing that I'm unaware of? I find it odd.

Also, all of you 20-something young ladies out there, if you are going to wear leggings as pants, don't act annoyed when men, and women for that matter, stare at your ass. Leggings are meant to be worn under tunics, long sweaters, skirts or even shirt dresses. They are not meant to be worn with nothing else covering your ass. Everybody knows that even opaque leggings are not 100% opaque. We can still see your underwear, and yes, we are all looking because, let's face it, riding the subway is boring... and also the battery on my cell phone is almost dead so I can't creep facebook at the moment.