In Search of Raoul Bova..Florence By Night

I spent last night in Florence with a couple of girlfriends. We went to Happy Hour at their favorite place and sat outside to drink a Prosecco and girltalk. Out of the blue, a tall, greasy-haired man walked over to our table and asked if he could join us. He asked my friend "adorable-blonde" and she said no. He insisted. He stood there trying to strike up conversation and I remained silent, observing. When my two friends refused to give their names, he became hot and cold, aggressive and nice.

I sat there chewing over this grease-man and decided that new people are interesting people and that it took courage as a single man with greasy hair to approach three drop-dead gorgeous women at a table, so I did it...I opened my mouth. And then it began...

Grease-man: You aren't Italian, are you?
Me: No, I'm American.
Grease-man: Wow, I love America. I've been to New York, Washington D.C., and Philadelphia. I climbed the Twin Towers. What's your name?

My friend leaned over to me and said, "Make one up, this guy is crazy."

Me: Jodi, very nice to meet you.

He smiled, calmed down and proceeded to tell me that he didn't like Americans in Florence because they come, get drunk, go home and sleep with Italians and then claim date-rape.

No comment.

Then he continued the conversation by telling us he saw Nirvana in concert in '96. I smiled for the first time during the conversation. Finally, a friend came over to the table and that gave us an excuse to part our ways. Grease-man smiled and kissed our six cheeks goodbye.

Maybe he'll think twice before stereotyping all Americans in Florence.

So I spent the night in Florence and went club-hopping, met all types of men but found absolutely no Raoul Bova.

The hunt continues...

Once Upon a Time in Tuscany...

I have been driving the same street from my house in the countryside to Grosseto for the past eight years.

Back and Forth
Back and Forth
Back and Forth

Yet today, instead of focusing on the millions of thoughts running through my head, I started to look around at the scenery. I noticed a pink villa I had never seen before, a piece of broken bridge, a couple of clouds in the form of sheep and a cluster of red poppies in the middle of a green field. Tuscany is one of the most beautiful places in the world, and being a single mom can be very enriching if one just learns to savor the Morellino...alone.

The Sunflower

The sun warms you, embraces you, sustains you and is...your life-source...

From the very first moments of your life, you love him profoundly.

You bow your head when the moon appears, already anxious to see him again.

You spend your life observing him.

You live for him although you know you will never kiss him, you will never touch him, and you don't even know if you attract his interest.

His heat, that which gave you life and cradled you, will ultimately kill you.

Nevertheless, you cannot pry your face from his light and never will you betray him by turning your head.

You will continue adoring him from sunrise to sunset as long as you have the strength.

Love is powerful even in a simple sunflower...

You see, I am a bit envious of this sun.

Girasole,

Il sole ti fa nascere, ti scalda e ti coccola, ti sostiene, ti fa vivere..

Te, già dai primi attimi di vita lo ami profondamente.

La tua faccia lo segue dall'alba al tramonto.

Abbassi la testa quando la luna appare, ma già sai che presto lo vedrai di nuovo.

Passi la tua vita ad osservarlo.

Vivi per lui anche se sai che non potrai mai baciarlo, non potrai mai

accarezzarlo, non sai neanche se lui è interessato a te.

E poi il suo calore, quello che ti ha fatto nascere, che ti ha cullato, ti farà a

morire.

Ma te comunque non distoglierai mai il tuo sguardo da lui e mai lo tradirai.

Continuerai a guardarlo dall'alba al tramonto, finchè avrai la forza di farlo.

L'amore è grande anche in un semplice girasole..

Vedi, io sono un pò invidioso di 'sto sole...

-The Real Perfect Man