gemütlichkeit

I cried Monday night, the puffy eyes, runny nose kind of cry that makes your whole body tremble.

My last semester of graduate school is ending--only two late May modules and one summer course remain--so most friendly faces are returning to the States (or another country of origin). My lease for this chambre de bonne is up in July so I have decide where I want to live and whether I can afford a real studio or a flat-share. My internship at a Parisian start-up is starting so soon.

And in two weeks, I'll be 25. It's an exciting time! But, it's a scary one, too. I'm not sure I'm ready for the real world again, and when the real world is a French office environment, I actually doubt it. I'm in more financial debt than ever, and have less social support than before. Basically, I have no idea what the f*** I'm doing. Was it naive to assume I'd have at least some things figured out by now?

My little brother is transitioning, too. Two months ago, in response to an email from him, I said all of the above. Then I continued: "I'm just trying to take each step at a time and put all my efforts towards things that feel right . . . I figure, eventually, the next opportunity will make itself clear to me. I hope so, at least." Clearly I'm better at articulating optimism than embracing it.

I think too much. But, every now and then, I don't. The week before last, for instance, I met Lara for dinner at Officina Schenatti. We received the absolute friendliest welcome since she knows the Italian chef and waitstaff, in addition to a complimentary glass of prosecco, ricotta amuse-bouche, and toasted focaccia topped with a tomato spread, fresh basil, and buffalo mozzarella.

Our plats of linguine with clams, squid, and prawns (for her), and pan-seared scallops over braised lentils (for me), and a tiramisu dessert were beyond comforting. The company and conversation, even more so.

Gemütlichkeit is a German word roughly translating to "a situation that induces a cheerful mood, peace of mind, with connotation of belong and social acceptance, coziness and unhurry." It has a similar sentiment to the Danish hygge; the word I entitled a Facebook album with recent photos from home. Just as I'm looking forward to two weeks in New York (with the boy!) in June, there's nowhere else I'd rather live than Paris. I love being abroad. I'm so glad this is my reality. But, I do cry sometimes, and I do miss everyone, and I do question... everything. Thank god for him, and her, and my small, sweet community here and now.

un día en roma

I used to be jealous of Italian-Americans. It just wasn't fair; their heritage was "cool" at a time when mine wasn't. Then I grew up. I took a trip to Florence. I realized I couldn't help but love Italian culture, especially with their love of celebrations and socializing with family and friends, most often around the table. Not to mention that that table included olive oil, bread, wine, pizza, pasta, etc. ;) Spending this past weekend in Rome, the Eternal City and one which I've "always" known about, further solidified my appreciation.

Marcus and I stayed in a cozy apartment in Trastevere, one of many timeless neighborhood characterized by narrow streets and medieval buildings. We arrived late on Friday night and left late Sunday afternoon. As such, Saturday was our only full day in Rome. His must-see: the Colosseum. My must-do: Roman cuisine. We quite successfully satisfied both of our wish lists and lots more (~9 miles in 12 hours, in fact), including stumbling upon the Roman Pantheon and wandering into Villa Borghese. 

{Roman breakfast: a bakery cornetti (a denser croissant-like Italian pastry) and bar cappuccino}

{Roman lunch: vino della casa, ciabatta bread, prosciutto & mozzarella di bufala appetizer, pesce del giorno (fish of the day: sea bass) over arugula with potato entrée, espresso}

 

{one part gelato alla cannella, one part gelato alla cioccolato in a sugar cone}

{Roman dinner: antipasto, hot and cold, fresh ricotta, focaccia bread, vino della casa...} 

{...frutti di mare orzo and fennel salad for me, bistecca and housemade chips for him...}

{... the best tiramisu I've ever had in my entire life, shared}

As you can see, the weather was absolutely beautiful for us. It allowed us to cover lots of ground and make the most of our Italian surroundings. Being in Rome was also quite literally a breath of fresh air. For as much as I adore French culture, it isn't nearly as laid back, warm, or expressive as that of the Italians. And I didn't simply observe this either. My level of Spanish comprehension must've actually improved because, much to my surprise, I found I could generally understand Italian. Now that's what I call a bon week-end!