As It Should Be

I'm smiling. Not the kind of smile that you use for when Grandma goes ballistic with the camera on Christmas. Or the kind of smile you use as a disguise around public audience.

Really smiling. 1% of you have seen this smile. The 1% that has truly made the effort to keep in touch this semester. The 1% that can decipher the face I'll make when faced with hilarious awkwardness. You're probably the same 1% that has Chapstick rites of passage.

Why the smile?

Sunlight floods the room. And I sit in its presence, greeting the streams of gold as they gently wash over me. Something feels right. I can't quite put my finger on it, but the smooth click on life's gears feels apparent. This could totally be the effect of too much coffee. Yeah? Saturday, get at me.

Or it could be the discovery that:

• I have 14 days more in France. That it will be an amazing 14 days but that going home will be the freakin' tits.
• My host sister has become like a sister to me and my best friend here. The fact that she is neither a biological sister nor my host family's actual daughter is irrelevant. Friendship extends beyond culture and language.
• Studying abroad is a janky crash course in showing you which friends remain friends, even when it's not convenient. Ironically, the people that I've talked to most are some of the busiest people I know. It's taught me that saying "Sorry, I was too busy, but I miss you!" or "Sorry! I just really suck at communication" is a bit misleading. "Busy" is a convenient excuse but a rather inconvenient truth. I haven't kept in touch with people this semester who 'have' time but rather people who have 'made' time. It's a small, but important, distinction.
• By American standards, what I eat on a daily basis is considered horrifyingly unhealthy. Yet I've never felt more at peace with my body.
• Language immersion is like playing the game CatchPhrase 24/7 -- you spend most of your time describing what you want to say to people, while they try to guess the meaning or word you're trying to convey. Sometimes you win; sometimes you lose.
• I will eat Chipotle with reckless abandon upon return to the states. RECKLESS ABANDON. To the kind man/lady in charge of said inaugural homecoming burrito: please inform HQ that you will need exactly 1.74296 shit-tons of guacamole for my burrito.  Thanks!

Over and out.

Happy Saturday :)

-lex

Florence, You Sexy Beast

I wish I could tell you I've been off honeymooning in Fiji for 10 days with Italian pop star Paolo. Or Italian sandwich star Pino.

There would be coconuts! Turquoise water tip-toeing! Exclamation points! And palm fronds gently fanning.

Reality check: no palm fronds. Unless you count the tree branches that decided to assault my face during the last 7 days of unrelenting rain in Nantes.

Not funny, Mother Nature.

Italy? Let's talk about these dang adventures already.

Along with friends K & E, I spent 5ish days in Italy for our Fall break. The break was the longest of the semester, and we booked our tickets for Italy pronto within the first week of arriving in September. Italy was a done deal for us. We had roughly no idea we wanted to do in Italy, except just about everything. Yes, gelato was a big part of "everything."

So what happened? 5 days of abso-freaking-lutely, smokin' hot mess.

Totally not kidding. With a little veritable truckload of help from our friends (new and old), we managed to make organized chaos look nothing short of awesome. After a night's layover in Bologna, it was off to Florence!

It would probably be an A+ idea to tell ya'll that our fantastic time in Florence is deserving of a special shoutout. Longtime pal and Stanford grad M, who previously studied abroad in Florence, sent me the most ridiculously thorough declassified guide to Florence. Monuments, gelato, spectacular sights, tourist traps, declarations of love (and hate), gelato, local gems, and warnings (of fake gelato) were all scrupulously detailed on a Google map. And because he's a gold-medal doofus, there was also a warning command that read, "If you go here, I'll kill you. Go somewhere that is less like a Nightclub version of Applebees." 

Clearly, he's a keeper.

After around 8.56 bajillion miles of walking, we managed to see just about all of Firenze as guided. Including...

Piazza Michelangelo, home of the best view in all of Florence. Beautiful view, meet my best friend 'bottle of wine' and good company too.

Not one, but two melt-your-face-off amazing trips to Salumeria Verdi -- or more fondly, "Pino's". This man makes the best frick frackin' sandwich that will ever meet your lips. For 3,50 euro, you receive a mindblowing lunch AND a new best friend; Pino is the bomb.com and a Firenze legend.

Classy sights like the museum housing the famous David sculpture and a surprise meeting with friend AC.

Followed by a trip to Fiesole, with a sweeping view of all of Tuscany.

Excuse me while I make my way down from Cloud Nine. Unfortunately, we didn't get the chance to have gelato.

Jokes on jokes. Zero gelato? Meatballs are more likely to rain from the sky (that would be cool?).

This was a trip to Vivoli Gelato, which we decided was the best gelato in central Florence. Tiramisu for this kid. Like the gods of Italy decided to throw a double dessert whammy all up in this shabang.

Badiani Gelato. Which must be pronounced with sweeping hand gestures and a boisterous Italian accent that is rolling in the deep. You were right (again), M.

(You're still a goober though.)

Kickin' it with the Medicis in Fiesole.

We're super casual bros.

Hey ho, ya spiffy Duomo. (center of Florence)

Piazza Santa Croce. With colors that look like they splashed off the ground and onto the buildings + sky.

Florence was heavenly. The perfect blend of culture, Pino, history, accidental penthouse apartments, adventure, janky buses, toils of getting pooped on by a bird, beautiful views, carbscarbscarbs, students of all sorts, Tuscan sun, and gelato as a first language.

Like palm fronds and Fiji.

Only much, much better.

-lexi

p.s. Rome to come!

This Couldn't Be Me

I look out the window, and my breath catches.

The freccia train that spryly runs from Florence to Rome beats onwards, whisking through the Tuscan countryside.

Italy.

I want to telephone the higher powers (?) and tell them they have the wrong girl. That this luck should be shared with someone else. That this couldn't possibly be me sitting here.

Softly, I raise the goblet of champagne that has appeared beside me to my curious, smiling lips. I watch the little, wide-eyed Italian toddler as he dawdles through the aisle, staring at the world. I think, this couldn't possibly be me.

I absentmindedly nibble on the Italian  fennel-laced biscuit in front on me. The chorus of Californiacation fills my ears, and my smile grows a little wider with the stroke of happy memories. I hear English, see Italian words, and write un petit essai in French.

I want to tell you that I feel so very lucky and that I haven't forgotten the importance of that. I think of you and me and this endless world we've set out to see.

And then I think again, this can't be me; you must have the wrong girl.

11 Commandments of Italy

Holy cannoli. I leave for a whirlwind tour through Italy with pals K and E tomorrow, and studying for my exam is nearing the point of useless.  We're heading to Bologna, Florence, and Rome in high spirits, in a major state of hot mess, and in pursuit of the ultimate adventure. Excited? I can't even. Ready? As I'll ever be. Forgetting anything? Don't ask.

11 Commandments of Italy

1)   Thou shalt live with infinity as the only boundary. No ceilings.

2)   Thou shalt eat gelato until thou can eat gelato no more.

3)   Thou shalt not elope with an Italian popstar named Paolo. Unless Paolo has 2 gorgeous Italian brothers.

4)   Thou shalt make one Italian friend, be it Pino....or Paolo. What dreams are made of?

5)   Thou shalt live in the moment, every one of them.

6)   Thou shalt keep friends close and good spirits closer.

7)   Thou shalt drink wine like it is water and water like it is wine.

8)   Thou shalt find the grand sights but also the hidden gems too.

9)   Thou shalt embrace pizza as a second language.

10)  Thou shalt remember that one will never again be 20 and traipsing all over Italy.

11)  Thou shalt break all the rules if it makes the rules better.

ciao!
-lexi

On Beauty & Rainy Day Soup

There's sometimes when beauty just is flat out overrated.

I'm talking about the days when pajamas are looking pretty dang fancy. You're spooning with Ben & Jerry. And you're on the verge of 'intimate relationship' with Netflix.

These are the moments we don't like to capture because, well.....they're just not "beautiful."

Gimme a hot second though. I understand that we naturally gravitate towards beautiful things: people, places, clothes, food, pictures, etc. Especially beautiful things when an Instagram filter is all up in that business.

That plain jane selfie you just took? Yeah, X-Pro II just turned you into a dark and stormy Ryan Gosling of sorts. And Sutro? Well, now hello flannel meets 21st century artsy-but-don't-call-me-hipster. And that completely unimportant cupcake you just ate? LOOOOOO-FIIIIIII to get 'dem colors poppin'. Don't worry though...if something is actually beautiful, we'll just shout #nofilter at the top of our social media lungs to compensate.

But it's kind of a bummer. Those pajama rainy days, solo movie marathons, and ice cream evenings with friends are verifiably AMAZEBALLS. And beautiful or not, I doubt we'd trade them for the world. I'm pointing this out because it I'm guilty of it; because it applies to just about everything (including food); and because sometimes, I wish we didn't crave this constancy of beauty.

Take, for instance, soup. Lentil soup is not one of those things you're supposed to get excited about. It's sort of the the homely stepsister. And who's going to wax poetic about that? Point taken.

This lentil soup, however, might blow your socks off. It's not red-carpet material and likely never will be. But I'll be darned if it isn't near perfect for a rainy day with some crusty baguette and a killer movie. This soup is for the Tuesdays when Sinatra is singing you a tune or two in the background. It's for time simply spent with family and friends who don't give a flying monkey's butt what you do or don't look like. The days when you're just doing you--with #nofilter.

And you know what? There's something souper beautiful about that.

Rainy Day Lentil Soup

This soup is painfully easy rainy day comfort food. And it oddly reminds me of my dear roommate P, who likes lentils like she likes me--without any condition of aesthetics. For the basic recipe, there's only 5 ingredients, including water and salt & pepper, which shouldn't even count. You can get jazzy if that's your jam, or just stick with the basics and call that a beautiful day. 

Ingredients: 1 cup lentils 5 cups water 1 cube chicken/vegetable boullion 1 tsp cumin salt/pepper

Optional (add as many or as few as you want): 1 carrot, sliced 1 cup mushrooms, sliced 1/2 cup bell pepper, diced 1/2 cup potato, diced 1/4 cup parsley or cilantro, chopped 1/2 cup chopped chicken, beef, or ham *pretty much anything goes

Place lentils, water, boullion, cumin, and any optional ingredients to a medium pot. Bring mixture to a boil and then simmer for 45 minutes on low-medium heat. Enjoy, and have a beautiful day.

-lexi

Thanks for Listening

I'm blushing a little, homeskillets.

I was flattered, if not a tad shocked, by the positive response to this post. Thanks for listening while I talk with my mouth full and carry on with janky lingo.

For all those lovely thoughts/comments/kudos--that means the world to me. I love to write, but in truth, I usually keep it to myself thinking that most people wouldn't really care to read it. Sharing it with you is my pleasure because y'all are the definition of spiffy.

Coming up: whirlwind Chateau excursions, the random things you would never guess about France, and PUMPKIN FREAKING PIE.

Sh*t may hit the fan with Fall midterms this week. But we'll have pie, which is basically the instant-win button of life. Get at me world.

Keep it simple stupid. Mo' pictures, less words!

Happy Sunday!

-lexi