2 days of class. Yeah, I speak Italian.

Two days of class down, two weeks to go until regular semester courses begin.  I spent a little time looking at an Italian language textbook before I came to Italy, I've been here hearing the language for a month, and I speak a little Spanish, which helps.  In short, the class has been easy for me thus far.  Almost too easy.  I spoke to the professor after class today and I'll go to this class on Monday and then we'll talk about possibly moving me up to the accelerated beginner's class for Tuesday.  For a class that's less than two and a half weeks long, I don't really want to take too long before switching.  So--by Tuesday I'll know whether or not I'll switch.

Last night was "Vogue's Fashion Night Out" in Milan.  Shopping centers and big shopping streets were packed and the fancy-schmancy stores stayed open very late and held special deals.  A group of us dressed up and went to be a part of the excitement.  We walked for a ways, and the first store we entered had a famous (not to me--I don't remember her name) designer who signed some t-shirts and was surrounded by people packing in to buy a t-shirt or get a closer look at her.  We spent a few minutes watching, grabbed a free mini-sandwich, and continued on our way.  We spent the more time at Mac makeup than anywhere else.  They had employees ready to do some free makeup on people, so a few of us took advantage of the opportunity.  I told the artist to do whatever she wanted with my eyes, figuring she knew better than I what would look good.  I chose... wisely.  I had no idea purple and green could be used together so tastefully.  I looked pretty and dramatic by the time she was done.  Only a couple people could go at a time, so while we waited, the rest of us enjoyed complimentary glasses of white wine, and some cookies served by a model.  The model was wearing gold-accented makeup, and her eyelashes were curled the wrong way!  So weird.  Instead of curling up towards her eyebrows, they were curled down over here eyes and the tips had gold mascara on them.  It was kind of riveting.  I wonder how much it impaired her vision.  We also visited Ralph Lauren, the house of Armani, and Prada, to name a few in the "Golden Quarter."  Most of the big name stores had servers walking around with trays offering people complimentary drinks.  I think this should be done where I shop in the US; I bet people would start viewing Goodwill differently.

Some observations about Italy:
1) The birds have good aim.  While looking out over the sea from a Portofino vantage point with Gloria, Luke, Joshua, and some Italian relatives--Irene, Tomaso, and Giovanni--BAM!  Right on my head, in my hair.  While walking in Venice with Joshua, BAM!  Hair again.  Double points for the bird, though, because he also managed to get Joshua's arm.  While walking to my Milano apartment today, bam. (<--that one is smaller.) This one needs to practice more because he misjudged my walking speed and just missed my head.  Actually caught the heel of my flip-flop as I was stepping on the ball of my foot.  What are the odds?
2) Every region has so much regional pride.  They say, "Well, in THIS region, we do/say/eat this.  It's very particular to this city/area/region."  Very cool, but occasionally I question it.  Really? Is saying "allora..." during any pause in the conversation or before you start to speak really particular to the speech patterns of people in this city?  Because that has been very common in every city I've been to in Italy.  Hmm.
3) Nothing can get in the way of true love.  Especially not age differences.  'Nuff said.

NOTE: I'M SORRY FOR ANY CONFUSION THIS LAST OBSERVATION MAY HAVE CAUSED.  I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH ANYONE IN ITALY.  THE AGE DIFFERENCE IS ONLY UNIMPORTANT IN THE MINDS OF MEN OF DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT AGES THAN ME.  THE FOLLOWING STORY IS AN EXAMPLE.

Which reminds me... After a confusing visit to the bank yesterday, I stopped back in today to tell them that I would actually not be opening an account there.  The man I spoke with yesterday looked disappointed but was quick to tell me how nice it was to meet me.  The bank teller (who unlocked the door specially for me since I arrived before they opened for the afternoon) abandoned his desk to come talk.  When he heard the news, he sounded a pained "Ohh..." and pretended to pull out his hair.  I'm sure they do that for everyone, though.

And starting tomorrow--my first weekend in Milano!