the boy next door
At the Passover dinner I went to on Monday night, I was talking to the woman sitting next to me (who kindly didn’t mind speaking English) about how she met her husband, our hostess’s son. She said that they had grown up in basically the same neighborhood, here in Milan, but had gone to different schools, had different interests, and didn’t meet until they were both living...
Pass the second Dolce & Gabbana, and it’ll be on the left. If you hit...– Giving directions in Milan.
I was feeling sort of romantic and even more head-in-the-clouds than usual my first day back in Barcelona last week, a place that used to be home, where I have ghosts on many corners (both good and bad). I wasn’t meeting up with friends until the next morning, so I was roaming the balmy streets in the evening, letting my memory run backwards. With nothing really to lose, and years...
so this is how passover works
You get a whole bunch of generations in one room, with a haphazard table set so big to fit everyone that you can barely get around it. The teenaged boys are looking uncomfortable having to wear button-down shirts and real pants, and the teenaged girls are probably playing with the tiny cousins, flipping them over, dancing, and having a great time. There are always at least two little old aunts in...
barcelona brings out my inner hippie
There are people who create things in this world, and then people who just take, or just criticize, or just simply exist. I’m not just talking about the artists, the writers, the inventors, the people who think creatively; although they are certainly an obvious example. I’m talking about people who create little moments, who go out of their way to strike up a random conversation that might...
My last day back in Barcelona last week, I made sure to get back to my favorite café in the city before heading to the airport. Caelum is this amazing little place in the Gothic quarter that I was lucky a friend stumbled upon a few years ago. Upstairs there is a sunny little cafe with this great array of their pastries which, according to their menus anyway, are all made in monasteries around...
who am I? I’m Kat, I just recently moved to Italy where I’m working on learning my third language (already know english and spanish). what is this blog? I just saw the trailer for “Eat Pray Love” (because a million of my female friends have been emailing me the link) and I haven’t read the book yet but all I know is that I got excited about the “eat”...