So this is Emanuel. He is not actually my Italian boyfriend. For the record, I do not have an Italian boyfriend nor do I want one. I met Emanuel on the first day that I was in Firenze when I was walking back from the city center to my friend Marc's house. I was navigating a map while crossing the street and he asked me if I was American. They seem to be rather taken with Americans here. I can't quite figure it out. He is a doctor of radiology at the hospital. I really don't understand what he does, I asked him if he was the technician who did the MRIs and that kind of stuff and he was very offended and from what I gathered he is the doctor who analyzes those tests and makes diagnoses. He wants to work in "nucleur medecine" in the US eventually. So he called me on Monday (we had texted over the weekend but he was in Torino working at the hospital there) and we met up in front of the Ponte Vecchio. This picture was taken that night as I was walking past the Uffizi Museum down to the bridge.
So beautiful with the dark storm clouds. So we met up and then he asked if he could make me dinner. Now, normally I wouldn't go home with a guy on the first date (!) but I really thought it would be fun to see his apartment and have a real Italian cook for me! So we walked to his apartment (which is about the size of a matchbook--my car might be bigger) and he cooked me dinner. The picture above is him in his "kitchen" which consists of a small counter that has two little burners and a sink and a college sized fridge. He made pasta for the first course with stewed tomato sauce that his mother had made. Then he made a salad with tomatoes and used olive oil and vinegar for dressing. This is not so unique except that his father had pressed the olives for the olive oil or however you say it--his dad made the olive oil! So that was the second course and then he made these little fish stick thingies. He cooked them in the olive oil and I figured he would just put a little bit of oil in to make it not stick to the pan but then he just keep pouring it in...ack! So I looked away because I didn't want to see how much oil was going into my dinner and when I turned back about 30 seconds later he was still pouring!!! Those poor fishies were swimming in olive oil! They ended up very soggy in my opinion. The funniest thing was that when he served it to me he said something about how he knows how to make it perfectly because he once worked in a restaurant! We watched the movie "Autumn in New York" while he was cooking and I taught him the meaning of "cheesy"! I am also teaching him what "You must behave" means. This is when he is trying to kiss me and I don't want him to. He is a very nice guy but I just don't like him in a romantic way...Next I will teach him the phrase "just friends". After dinner he walked me all the way home (all the way across town)--very sweet. That is one thing I can say for the men here--I appreciate the chivalry and they always pay. They are very offended if you try to pay.
This is my bedroom right now but I am 99% sure that I am going to change apartments. The only nice thing about my room is the large window. I have the balcony and the largest room in the apartment.
My desk and the second bed. It is supposed to be a 2 person room.
The view from my balcony. The apartment I am in right now is not bad but I just can't stand the smoke. It is really too bad because I like the girls a lot. But I found a new apartment slightly closer to school. It is much more Italian looking (mine now makes me think of a German dorm) and there is only one other woman living there and she does not smoke. That is the main issue. My English is seriously suffering here. I am spelling things wrong and using weird words. I had to keep correcting myself on my spelling of apartment...yikes.
Yesterday I went to my local cafe to study and the server guy came up to me and asked if I was American or something blah blah blah and the whole rest of the time he was coming over every 30 minutes to tell me how beautiful I was. I just wanted to study, seriously. I like that cafe for studying because they have large tables (most cafes are pretty much standing room only) but now I don't really want to go back because "Sandro" will think I came back to visit him. He is older too. Oh and Emanuel is 35. Where are the young Italian Stallions? True to form, I like the two beautiful gay men in my first class. Story of my life.
So this is Emanuel. He is not actually my Italian boyfriend. For the record, I do not have an Italian boyfriend nor do I want one. I met Emanuel on the first day that I was in Firenze when I was walking back from the city center to my friend Marc's house. I was navigating a map while crossing the street and he asked me if I was American. They seem to be rather taken with Americans here. I can't quite figure it out. He is a doctor of radiology at the hospital. I really don't understand what he does, I asked him if he was the technician who did the MRIs and that kind of stuff and he was very offended and from what I gathered he is the doctor who analyzes those tests and makes diagnoses. He wants to work in "nucleur medecine" in the US eventually. So he called me on Monday (we had texted over the weekend but he was in Torino working at the hospital there) and we met up in front of the Ponte Vecchio. This picture was taken that night as I was walking past the Uffizi Museum down to the bridge.
So beautiful with the dark storm clouds. So we met up and then he asked if he could make me dinner. Now, normally I wouldn't go home with a guy on the first date (!) but I really thought it would be fun to see his apartment and have a real Italian cook for me! So we walked to his apartment (which is about the size of a matchbook--my car might be bigger) and he cooked me dinner. The picture above is him in his "kitchen" which consists of a small counter that has two little burners and a sink and a college sized fridge. He made pasta for the first course with stewed tomato sauce that his mother had made. Then he made a salad with tomatoes and used olive oil and vinegar for dressing. This is not so unique except that his father had pressed the olives for the olive oil or however you say it--his dad made the olive oil! So that was the second course and then he made these little fish stick thingies. He cooked them in the olive oil and I figured he would just put a little bit of oil in to make it not stick to the pan but then he just keep pouring it in...ack! So I looked away because I didn't want to see how much oil was going into my dinner and when I turned back about 30 seconds later he was still pouring!!! Those poor fishies were swimming in olive oil! They ended up very soggy in my opinion. The funniest thing was that when he served it to me he said something about how he knows how to make it perfectly because he once worked in a restaurant! We watched the movie "Autumn in New York" while he was cooking and I taught him the meaning of "cheesy"! I am also teaching him what "You must behave" means. This is when he is trying to kiss me and I don't want him to. He is a very nice guy but I just don't like him in a romantic way...Next I will teach him the phrase "just friends". After dinner he walked me all the way home (all the way across town)--very sweet. That is one thing I can say for the men here--I appreciate the chivalry and they always pay. They are very offended if you try to pay.
This is my bedroom right now but I am 99% sure that I am going to change apartments. The only nice thing about my room is the large window. I have the balcony and the largest room in the apartment.
My desk and the second bed. It is supposed to be a 2 person room.
The view from my balcony. The apartment I am in right now is not bad but I just can't stand the smoke. It is really too bad because I like the girls a lot. But I found a new apartment slightly closer to school. It is much more Italian looking (mine now makes me think of a German dorm) and there is only one other woman living there and she does not smoke. That is the main issue. My English is seriously suffering here. I am spelling things wrong and using weird words. I had to keep correcting myself on my spelling of apartment...yikes.
Yesterday I went to my local cafe to study and the server guy came up to me and asked if I was American or something blah blah blah and the whole rest of the time he was coming over every 30 minutes to tell me how beautiful I was. I just wanted to study, seriously. I like that cafe for studying because they have large tables (most cafes are pretty much standing room only) but now I don't really want to go back because "Sandro" will think I came back to visit him. He is older too. Oh and Emanuel is 35. Where are the young Italian Stallions? True to form, I like the two beautiful gay men in my first class. Story of my life.
3 comments:
Happy birthday, Sarah! Here's wishing you a sweet, gorgeous, witty, young, non-gay Italian Stallion for your 29th year!
You're so funny. You'll find some young Italian men soon enough. And they may actually know how to cook without so much olive oil! Oh yeah, I love that little car in one of your first posts.
Molly
You are so funny in your bloggings!
I am enjoying reading all of your posts!
Post a Comment