A quick update!

Hey everyone!
Today marks the TWO-WEEK mark since I've been here! Holy cow how time flies. Today also marks the beginning of my travels! I will be departing Bologna shortly and heading to Viky's mom's house in Arona where I will be staying till Saturday morning. I am then headed to a festival of some sort in Ferrara till Sunday night, then back to Arona till Tueaday when I will head to Milano for my first REAL shopping experience (and hopefully running into Kobe Bryant!) I will be back in Bologna around dinner time Tuesday night!
I will not have internet or cell phone access over the next five days, except for my Italian phone where I can be contacted in case of emergency, so stay tuned for some good blogs the middle of next week!
Hope everyone has an amazing weekend!
Lots of love, especially to my family and girlfriends, I wish you all could experience this with me..
XOXX - JLI

The best part about living is knowing you’re always given a new day to start over and try again…

The three dead give always that you're an American, especially in Italy:

1.      You have straight and/or white teeth 

       (Jess-1...Italy-0)

2.      You’re fat, by Italian standards 

       (Jess-2...Italy-0)

3.      You have crazy hair (for one of two reasons) 

       (Jess-3...Italy-0)

a.       It’s way too hot to use any type of tool to tame your mane 

        (Jess-3...Italy-1)

b.      You blow our your blow dryer two days after you arrive

        (Jess-3...Italy-2)

Whelp folks, the stats are in and I'm pretty sure that without a debate, I look like a fish out of water here in Bologna, but I honestly don’t mind. I mean yeah, I get mean mugged most times out of the day but hey, I'm an American, and they can smell me from a mile away (ha, literally and figuratively). It’s amazing how quickly you can pick out the differences. Just by looking at someone, you can tell their European; they’ve got this thing goin’ on with their faces, but I haven’t been able to figure out just what it is.

I can’t stress enough how much better life is over here. Sure, I miss my people, but I am not homesick by any means.  This is exactly what I’ve needed in life, and what I’ve always wanted. I needed a change of scenery, change of people, a change of everything. It’s amazing how change can be the best or worst thing to happen to someone. This experience, however, will be the best thing I ever do. It will make me grow and mature in ways I didn’t know I could; I can already see myself changing, for the better, in ways that I never would back home.

My days during the week are pretty much the same. I wake up between 8:30-9 and have the most delicious cup of cappuccino with Max, while Giorgio eats his ‘kiki’ (crackers/cookies). Then I freshen up and get the baby changed before we venture out. We usually spend about an hour at the park where Gio is glued to the swing or taking me on a ‘caca’ (shit) walk where he points at ever cigarette-butt on the ground, and boy are there many, while screaming caca as loud as he can. The faces people make at me are really quite interesting… Then, depending on the time, we take a little walk around before heading back to the house. Usually, the walk is more for me, so I can see things I may have missed the day before. By the time we get home, everyone is starving and Max has either started lunch or waits for me to get home so he can give me a cooking lesson, (last week, I made a zucchini sauce, all by myself, that was to die for) that usually involves a lot of watching and less doing, on my end. Then it’s naptime for Giorgio (and me…hey, I still haven’t adjusted to the time change ;)) which usually consists of him screaming babbo (dad) until Max comes and takes him from me. He hasn’t let me put him down yet, fingers crossed for this week though! The afternoons usually depend on the day and if Viky and/or Max are home. I typically have my Italian lessons with Viky and/or lessons teaching English to some friends of Viky’s.

A highlight of my week last week: getting my hair washed & blown out!

Friday, Viky and I went to her hair salon for a wash and blow dry. Let me first try to explain about Italians and their hair, hoping you can understand why this was so amazing for me…

     
         No one and I mean no one, does their hair here. The day I asked Viky to use her blow dryer (because naturally, I blew mine out), she almost fell off her chair. She told me that even blow drying after a shower is uncommon and people usually just let their “do,” do whatever it feels like doing that day.  Bizarre right? Well, I haven’t done my hair because a. I blew out my blow dryer on day two, and b. they don’t sell adapter/transmitter thingy’s that fit my hair tools, so basically, I’ve been looking like a freak from ‘Staven with this huge, frizzy, curly hairdo (sorry Acerra family<3). I have to admit though, I’m lucky enough that my hair dries pretty well naturally, but then it gets greasier quicker and I hate not being able to straighten the front pieces of my hair. God I sound like such a diva. But honestly, it’s probably the only downfall of being here. I’ve always been a freak about my hair, because I have so much of it, so not being able to tame my mane is something that I'm trying to get used to.

Back to my experience at the hairdresser; it was THEE best head/hair wash of my life. They washed and massaged and scrubbed my head for literally 20 minutes and spent at least 35 blow drying it! It’s now Sunday and I haven’t washed it yet and it still looks just as good as on Friday. I was so excited because I finally felt like a female again! Not being able to do my hair and barely doing my makeup everyday has taken a toll on my femininity. Me, Viky and our fresh do’s went for sushi Friday night (yes, there are sushi restaurants in Italy) and spent hours chatting about any and everything you can imagine. She is so easy to talk to and so smart. We literally get lost in conversation multiple times a day. I cannot say enough wonderful things about her. She makes this experience more amazing by the day.

I spent Saturday catching up on sleep then exploring Bologna all by myself. I even did some shopping! I am a directional-idiot, BUT, I didn’t get lost at all! (I did study the map for a good 20 minutes before leaving the house though)

 Picture One: Entrance to the Piazza Maggiore

Picture Two: Statue of Neptune

  

Picture Three: Church in the Piazza

I’m sure I’ve overwhelmed all of you with my ever-so-stressful life here in Bologna, so I’ll leave the rest for another day! I have lots of exciting things coming up, so stay tuned, I will blog as much as I can!

Best wishes, God bless & lots of love…

XOXO ~ JLI

At first glance, it may appear too hard. Look again, always look again...

Driving through downtown Bologna reminded me of New York City. Before all of you think I’m cracked for comparing New York to Italy, let me explain. First of all, there are people everywhere; everyone smokes, everyone is walking a dog, everyone has shopping bags in their hands, everyone seems to be in a rush, and there are even bums begging for money. Aside from the people, the streets are lined with tall buildings with big windows, condo/apartment complexes on top of pharmacies, bars, restaurants, shops, coffee shops, etc. However – although I will forever love New York City, Bologna is far more beautiful for so many reasons (which I will get too soon, promise).

 We pull up to the entrance of the condo and I must admit that I was confused at where we were. I guess my imagination conjured up something out of Under the Tuscan Sun and I was waiting to pull up to a beautiful villa on a couple acres of land. But, as mama taught me, you never judge a book by its cover, so I grab my bag and the baby, and follow Max inside. I give a “ciao” to the doorman who looked at me like I was an alien, which I technically am, got into the smallest elevator known to mankind (which will be the death of Nicole), and arrived on the second floor. Upon entering, I was immediately greeted by a tiger kitten (thank GOD) and was shocked that the inside was as beautiful as it was. Living room with balcony to the left, kitchen with balcony to the right, marble floored hallway with two glass doors leading to three bedrooms; Giorgio’s, Max & Vikys, and mine. I unfortunately don’t have a balcony off my room like the rest but hey, a nice big window works for me! I put my bags in my room and after a little tour of the house; George, Max and I went on a walk to the grocery store and took a little tour of the downtown area. I was literally in shock at everything I saw. From the size of a bottle of water in the grocery store, to the different shops everywhere, to the church in the Piazza Maggiore and the section of town with my favorite designer boutiques. Although I was in awe at everything I was surrounded by, I was also freaking out about getting around by myself. There are little side streets everywhere, this is going to be worse than NYC, I kept thinking, but I made myself breathe and just take it for what it was worth.

After getting back, Max (who is a phenomenal cook) made spaghetti with a carbonara sauce, mmmmmm delish! I unpacked my things and tried to settle down but I was starting to panic. At this point, I hadn’t met Viky yet, she had a meeting for work in another part of Italy and wouldn’t be back till Friday afternoon, so I was definitely feeling very abandoned. It was disgustingly hot outside and there was no air condition and no fan, and even with my window fully open, there was no breeze. How am I supposed to sleep without a fan on? What the hell am I going to do!? I shook it off, only moments before finding out there was no internet either. No AC, no fan, no internet, HOW AM I GOING TO SURVIVE?! I was a mess and literally didn’t know what to do so I did the only thing I do best, crawl into bed. Woof. I finally had a free second to think and then my emotions went haywire. All I could do was cry; I don’t even know why I was crying. I couldn’t put into words what I was feeling, which made it worse when I called home because my mother had a panic attack wondering what the hell happened to me. I was so mad that I couldn’t get online, how was I going to keep in contact with my friends and family? And I was more frustrated that it was so hot and I couldn’t go anywhere to escape the heat. I had written off coming back after Christmas, if I even stayed that long to begin with. I swore this wasn’t for me and I couldn’t hack it. So, I cried to my mom till I fell asleep, having one of the best night’s sleeps of my life, thankfully. I woke up Friday afternoon to a phone call from my parents at 12:45 making sure that I was still living. I didn’t want to get out of bed, but I jumped in the shower, put a smile on and went to hang out with Max and George for a little. Then, Viky finally came home, and that my friends, is when I realized that I was going to be just fine and that I was going to give Italy the chance that it most definitely deserved.

* * *

            Meeting Viky was exactly what I needed; it was like the final piece of the puzzle of being here. We kept Friday pretty low key, took Giorgio to the park and stopped at the local gelato shop on the way home. Let me just tell you – I love ice cream more than just about any type of food or beverage, in the world, and I had this concoction that I literally can’t even describe to you because that’s how amazing it was. I honestly don’t even know what was in it, Viky picked it out, but what I do know is, the cone was filled with Nutella (those who know me well, know that Nutella comes in at a close second next to ice cream) so you literally had deliciousness till the very last bite. That snack was enough to keep me smiling for the rest of the day.

            I need to try and explain how hot it is here. Remember that week back in July, (Nicole, Cassandra, Val & the rest of my NYC Dreamers – I know you remember this week..) where it was at least 98-100° every single day? Yeah well, that’s what it’s like here, except the nights do not get any cooler. Need I remind you that I have no air conditioner and no fans? Those who also know me well know that I do not do well with heat like this. This heat isn’t like the heat in Vegas; this is wet, muggy, can’t-do-anything-to-get-comfortable type of heat. I was forced to sleep in my birthday suit, with a cold wet towel on the back of my neck to try to keep my body temperature at a normal degree. Mind you, I have been showering at twice a day and applying deodorant like it’s going out of style, and I still smell like shit. I guess that’s Europe for you though. I never got why the Europeans smelt so bad… but honestly, if this is the worst thing that I have to deal with, I’ll take it!

           

            I literally have to pinch myself every time I walk outside. It’s hard to believe that I am walking the streets of Bologna, Italy. I don’t feel like I’m in a different country – I guess because it’s so similar to NYC that I’m just used to my surroundings. It doesn’t even faze me when everyone around me is talking to each other in another language (I have my gay bff’s at Solstice to thank for that!). Once I get off the busy main roads and find myself wandering down side streets taking me closer to beautiful Italian architecture, I am constantly asking myself, “Is this real life?!” And then I snap out of my daydream and say, YES, YES IT IS! EMBRACE IT JESSICA LEIGH. THERE IS NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT.

On that note – I have so much to explore and the last thing I want to do is sit in this room. I’m in Italy for goodness sake! Don’t fret – many, many, manyy more blogs to come!

Best wishes & God bless!

xoxx - JLI

The thing that's important to know, is that you never know. You're always sort of feeling your way...

Ciao from Bologna!!  The only thing I can say is w o w. There is so much to tell, after a mere five days, I don’t know if I’ll ever have enough time to tell it all. I guess let’s start off with my travels from CT to NY to Paris to Bologna.

Wednesday and Thursday of last week were thee longest days of my life. I left home around 2:15pm, which seems a bit ridiculous for a 7pm flight out of JFK, but my dad was right, yet again. Every line that you can think of was unreal. I was able to check my bags in quickly because I did the on-line check in before I left (which I recommend to anyone flying international – ahem girls!), so my mom, dad, and I went upstairs to the food-court and relaxed for about a half hour, then it was off to security check which was just as ridiculous as you can imagine. I hugged my parent’s goodbye and of course we were all crying like a bunch of saps. I schlepped my way through the line, occasionally looking over at my mom bawling, feeling like a fish out of water. Everyone around me was talking in a different language, staring at me because for once, I was the minority. I finally got through security, gave mom and dad a final wave, and started my journey down what seemed like the longest corridor to my gate. I sat there, hoping I’d see an American who was feeling what I felt, but seeing nothing but foreigners who couldn’t wait to get back to their countries. I was overwhelmed with feelings. I didn’t know what to do, so I started texting everyone my final goodbyes, calling my parents, brother, aunt, hoping someone would magically appear and make me feel better. The tears started flowing down my face and nothing could stop them. The people around me must have thought someone died. I kept telling myself to get it together or they weren’t going to let me on the plane. That’s where my buddy Xanax comes in to help. I remember stepping onto the plane and trying to lift my jaw off the ground; the people in first class literally had a bed and five rows worth of room all to themselves. I made my way back to row 26 seat A, (window seat, niiiice) and no one was there yet (double niiiceee)! I blew up my little neck pillow, threw my brothers sweatshirt on, wrapped the blanket around me and I was down for the count. Falling asleep at 7pm and waking up, on a plane, at 5am was one of the weirdest things I’ve ever encountered. So, another half of Xanax and next thing I knew, I was 20 minutes from landing in Paris.

Well aside from the fact that I looked like and felt like a complete zombie, I got off the plane and had to go through a maze, customs being someplace in the middle; luckily that went smoothly because I was in no shape or form to talk to anyone or answer any kinds of questions. So, now that its sometime after 8am, at this point I had been traveling for close to 12 hours, one would think that getting off at gate 2D and getting back on a plane at gate 2E would be rather simple; WRONG. Not only did I walk at least 2 miles (okay okay maybe not 2 miles but it definitely felt like it), stop and ask for directions twice, but by the time I made it to gate 2E I had to go through security AGAIN. Okay, I thought, customs, security; check. Get me to bologna. I then look up and realize that even though I was at gate 2E, I had to walk to terminal 73 and take a bus to the plane. WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT, WHAT?! Bus to the plane? 80 terminals in one gate? I don’t get it. Not only was I clueless, but finding someone who wasn’t mean muggin’ me and spoke English was harder than finding a needle in a haystack. So, by the time I get to terminal 73 and hand my boarding pass to the French speaking Chinese man, he looked at me with a blank stare and mumbled “no more.” NO MORE I said… NO MORE WHAT! “Plane, no more plane, left already.” (cue the tears) - NOW WHAT, I asked. And the only English I got from his response was customer service.

SO – I call mom and dad who knew something was wrong because at this point it was close to 9am my time and I should have already been on my way to Bologna. Imagine little ol’ me; tears (and I’m sure more than enough mascara) streaming down my face, with my Tory Burch bag on one shoulder and my Louis Vuitton duffle strapped across my body, trying to figure out my ass from my elbow in a foreign country. Thankfully the lady at customer service spoke English, and she put me on a 1:05 plane to Bologna (my advice to all – don’t land in Paris if you don’t need to – and don’t land in Paris if you have under an hour between connecting flights). I was starving, exhausted and emotionally spent. I just wanted to be anywhere other than on a plane or in an airport. I was way too tired to take my bags back upstairs and find food so I passed out for a good two hours before taking a shuttle to the plane. I strapped myself in, said a quick ‘Hail Mary’ and passed out, again. Next thing I know, I’m walking into the airport and the first sign I see says, “BOLOGNA AT LAST.” I took a deep breath, smiled and said, finally, here we go! I waited for my luggage which surprisingly made it on my flight and saw Max and Giorgio coming towards me! “CIAO, CIAO! So sorry we’re late.” He said, kissing both cheeks like a typical Italian. I apologized repeatedly for missing my flight and coming in later than I was supposed to, but he didn’t mind, thankfully. Giorgio was so cute, even cuter than the pictures. Max tried his best to speak to me in English, but our conversations weren’t very extensive. Around 3:30pm, close to 25 hours later, I finally arrived at Via Guglielmo Marconi, 47; Bologna, Italy…

And the rest, my friends, is for another day.

Best wishes & God Bless

XOXX JLI