Mercoledi Notte

It's amazing how every Wednesday night I come home feeling completely invigorated.  At times I feel like a new person with a new goal in my life.  This is mainly because my final class on Wednesday nights is taught by an amazing woman with a wild unruly gray afro and delicate but dramatic finger gestures.  Without realizing it, she enlightens me on a weekly basis.  True, she's teaching a course on "Women Characters of 20th Century Fiction" and thus I am immediately intrigued being a.) a woman and b.) a writer. 

Tonight she enlightened me to a world outside of Florence.  A world full of real Italians.  She told me to go to places where I will be forced (yes, forced) to speak my horrendous endearing Italian to locals.  Hopefully they will have pity on me. 

My list of places to visit have expanded, but not beyond borders.  I want to travel to the south for sure.  I was reluctant of this at first, but I've come to understand this is where you can find authentic Italians.  Perhaps I can even find Matthew's family down there.  Morelli's not a common name here, right? 

I also want to travel to Sicily.  I was told you cannot experience real Italy without going to Sicily.  So Sicily here I come.  And apparently Turin is the place to be.  Fun history fact:  Turin was an epicenter for anti-fascists Jews prior to WWII.  Which means Turin is a double place for me to be. 

In the next few days I will update on my trips with my parents.  And maybe between now and then I'll have some deep revelation about myself.  But nothing yet. 

Ciao!