Nothing in particular

Long time no talk, faithful followers.
I kid, I know basically only my mom reads this--and even then I have to remind her to.
It's been vewy vewy quiet around here lately, hence the lack of updates on my shenanigans.
But everything is still going very smoothly, cannot believe that it's December 9th already. How did that happen? (Alright, I know I say that every few weeks, but it really does blow my mind.) It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas around these parts. In fact, today I decided to walk around my neighborhood and put Johnny Mathis in my headphones as I enjoyed all of the lit-up store windows. However, it was approximately 60 degrees today. So, it doesn't feel like my last two Christmases. Can't say I miss trudging through the snow, Holy Cross. Sorry.
Speaking of things that are sweet about not being at school: yesterday was the Feast of the Immaculate Conception or the "Immaculata". Again, something that is not acknowledged in the U.S. of A. I blame the Puritans. But it was a "festa" here, and the lovely people at CLIDA decided to take us into the countryside in Chianti to an amazing villa/winery for lunch. Casual...It was so beautiful! We had an amazing lunch, tasted delicious wines, and wandered around the grounds of this incredible Tuscan villa. I've decided I would like to own one eventually. Not a bad lifestyle, I don't think. Naturally, my plans to marry a Columbian drug lord are already in the making. Any objections? Lovely.
When I got back from my walk this afternoon, though, I was greeted by a little red bubble on my e-mail informing me that I'd received a message. Who's it from? Oh, just some ridiculous Italian man that Jenna and I met at a bar on Saturday night when I was watching the Civil War (GO DUCKS!) This guy was an absolute riot. When he asked where I was from in California, as all Italians do--even though if you say anything other than San Diego or San Francisco they stare at you blankly--he replies, "Oh, is that near Fresno?" (keep in mind, all in Italian) Because apparently some Italian basketball player left to play for Fresno State. "ze Bulldogs" Yeah, man. "Ze Bulldogs". Anyways, he sends me this e-mail just kinda asking what's up. Because he got my e-mail address off of my facebook. Italians, you need to relax. Please pay extra attention to the very last line. Since I'm sure the rest of the Italian nonsense doesn't mean much to most of you. Out of control.
Last weekend we went to see Fiorentina (Florence's soccer team) play Cagliari (evidently this is a place in the south of Italy. Sounds like Canada to me. Va bene) It was a lot of fun. Although soccer will never compare to college football, Fiorentina fans were absolutely out of control. Luckily, we were surrounded by American college students...so we didn't get caught in any scuffles. Just looking like goofy ass posers decked out in scarves and beanies that they bought 10 minutes before the game started. You can't see my jersey in this picture, thank goodness, and I apologize for my bare back. I guess I didn't need to share this picture. Woops.
I thought Francesco would be impressed with me for going to the game, so when I came home I showed him my ticket and told him how fun it was. He told me that the people at the games are mostly Americans nowadays. Long story short: he wasn't impressed. Maybe he was just upset because Katja had left that morning. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the girlfriend from Ukraine came to visit last week! More awesome awkward host family stories.
The first night she was here we had a fancy dinner. I'm talking, we had a tablecloth out and everything. The Rizzi's had met her once before- she came to visit this summer when they started dating-I learned. But this was the newest member of the family's (I like to consider myself) first encounter. It quickly became obvious that as much as I tried to pretend like I lived there- serving her food, telling her to try stuff, asking if she needed anything- that the real Rizzi's still consider me a guest in their house. Pretty hilarious. I mean, it didn't stop me from acting like Francesco was my older brother and I needed to grill her. Nevermind that, though, because our conversation quickly turned to politics, then to Russia, and then I learned that the story of Anastasia ISN'T TRUE. Thanks, Katja, come in my house and crush my fantasies, why don'tcha?! Liliana was really upset too, actually. It's fine. I saw the mail order bride a few more times over the next week, but we didn't have any other significant interactions.
So I'm currently just kinda hanging out. We have three more classes of Museology. Thank the Lord. And another week of language class until our finals next Thursday and Friday. That blows my mind. I hope you're all praying for me. I need it.
As usual, miss and love you all. Baci!