7 is NOT my lucky number...

I wrote the last blog from the airport in London, on 7/7/07, awaiting my flight to come to southern Italy to visit Paolo. I had gotten up at 3am for a 6:40 flight, had tons of time at the airport and my next flight was at 17:15. Ok...since we do not use the 24 hour clock in the states it confuses me sometimes, so the entire time I was thinking that my flight was at 7:15pm.

Wrong. My flight was a 5:15pm. Yep...you guessed it. I was sitting in the damn airport and missed my flight. I was actually talking to Paolo on instant messenger, and he said "What time is your flight" I said don't worry it's not until 17:15...and thats when it dawned on me. I sprinted to the departures board and saw that it was 17:18. My flight had left 3 minutes before. I was in the airport for 6 hours before the flight and MISSED IT. How does that happen? So, after my two previous days of bad luck, this topped it all. Not only was I not getting to Italy that night, I could not get another flight until the following evening...for 185 pounds (or roughly $370). Then, I also had to find a place to stay. I could have tried to contact Tom again, but I didnt want to inconvienence him, plus to get into London and back to the airport would have cost me about the same as one night in a guesthouse. So I opted for a 70 pound guesthouse that was close to the airport. So $500 later and a missed day in Italy, I learned the hard way how to tell time like the rest of the world does...

Throughout all of it, Paolo was a saint. He was a little shocked when I told him--his response..."but Maggie, how do you lose your airplane?" So cute.

He picked me up at the airport after 2 of the longest days of my life. (A total of 17 hours in the airport) and brought me to his beautiful villa where we are staying. My first day here, I met a bazillion cousins, brothers, friends, uncles, etc...and I met his mom (nerve wracking). It is really hard meeting all of these people because I want to make a good impression, however this is difficult to do when I cannot speak to them aside from saying "hello, nice to meet you." He drove me around the area and we went to the beach--which was wonderful. We were also planning and preparing for his 30th birthday party the next day. We ate dinner on the roof of the villa with his friend Liza and her date, and then called it a night...

Until about 4am when I woke up feeling like total crap. I started getting sick at about 7am (as in vomiting, sick) and did not stop until the afternoon. I dont know if I have ever slept so much in a single day. I had no energy at all, I could barely lift myself out of bed to run to the bathroom. I felt soooo terrible, because he was running around trying to take care of last minute party stuff, and at the same time he wanted to take care of me. Yesterday was the first day that I really felt homesick--you know when you are sick and all you want is to be someplace you are comfortable and do not have to worry about anything? That is how I was feeling. I think the non-stop, India-Rome-London-Stockholm-London-2 days in an airport-Lecce, took a major toll on my body, and it all came to a head yesterday. Today I am feeling much better. Not 100%, but I managed to eat some pasta, and fruit, which is a vast improvement from yesterday when I choked down a couple crackers and an apple.

I did end up going to the party. Needless to say, I wasnt doing much partying. I did my best to appear really happy and to be having a great time, because I did not want Paolo to be worried about me, but all I really wanted was to be back in bed. It was nice to meet all of his friends, and had I been able to drink some of the sangria, then conversations might have been even better. (Its funny how when Italian people start drinking their english gets much better...opposite of us, our english gets worse!) There are very few people here that can speak english, and the ones that do are often nervous because they do not practice much, so they are embarrassed or worried about making mistakes. However, what they don't understand is that I appreciate any effort and totally admire the fact that they can speak another language--this is something that this trip has really inspired me to do...I feel bad about people always having to communicate with me in MY language. Although, realistically if I were to learn to speak another language, the most sensible would be Spanish. (plus, I've had 5 years of it in school) But, these days Italian is the most appealing...

Oh, I forgot to mention what else Paolo showed me on my first day here. As we were driving to the villa, we drove through the little town where his family lives and their business is located. As we approached one corner he said "my parents house starts here" and then we drove for 30 more seconds, and at the end of the block he said "and it ends here". Ahhhhh....ok. Your parents house spans an entire block. We make a stop at his office (where he works with his dad, brother and uncle) and after that he grabbed a garage door opener and led me to a large garage by the office...where they keep their 2 Maseratis, a Porsche, a Jaguar, some kind of old-fashioned car, and Paolo's very own Ferrari. Not to mention the Audi we were driving in and the other 2 or 3 street cars they have for "regular" driving. Uh, yeah. My cars have served one purpose--to get me from point A to point B...so I did not know what to make of this. I asked him when I was going to get to see his airplane...

Aside from the constant shock I have been experiencing, we have had a really good time together. He is an absolute sweetheart, always worried about my well being. I really wish that we spoke the same language because I can tell when he is with his friends he is really funny--and dorky (which I love). But with us, the language barrier is still being worked on, so making sarcastic remarks or teasing, sometimes has to be explained. (not always, though.) There are certain things that he cannot seem to register no matter how many times we go over it, for instance, the words "say and tell." He will say "I will say him that we will meet at 5." And sometimes when he doesn't understand a word, I try to use another word to describe it and he doesn't understand that word either--so there is definitely a lot of charades going on. But, most of the time we communicate just fine. And I love that he still cannot figure out when to use he/she and will often refer to his mother or female friends as "him" or "he".

I think by tomorrow I should be back to normal--I am still exhausted, but I slept well, and I took a nap today. I should have figured this pace would eventually catch up with me, and carrying a huge backpack and my school books does not help the fatigue.

I am officially into the second half of my trip, and it has not been quite as smooth as the first half, but I was expecting days like the dreadful 7/7/07 to arise. (I didnt think it was going to be that expensive of a lesson to learn...) But, I have been able to keep my perspective, and realize that days like that happen, and I am very lucky to be able to be doing what I am doing.

Ok, back to homework, which I have been neglecting a bit. (oops...) Its hard to focus on homework when you are with prince charming at a villa in southern Italy...