Paulina's reaction to the world's best lasagna
//~fRiendS~//
my other half, Ruby~*
wait Paulina literally fell asleep sitting up LOOK
*~~*~HI GUYS IT'S MY BIRTHDAY I'M 20 THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT~*~~*
IF YOU WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THE NIGHTMARE THAT WAS MY LAST 48 HOURS IN ROME READ THIS (BUT IF YOU DON'T JUST KEEP ON SCROLLING UNTIL THE PICTURES OK):
On Thursday afternoon, Margherita emailed me and asked if I would be able to babysit on Friday night from 8:45-midnight so that she and her husband could go out to dinner. She was away in Fano, a town three hours away from Rome, for business, and we had been communicating via email for most of the week. To be honest, I was surprised, and a little offended, that she was asking me to work on my last night in Rome. After 3ish months of work and only one day off, her refusal to give me my work schedule more than a day in advance (despite my request for a weekly schedule months ago), working 40+ hours a week (au pairs are not supposed to work more than 35), living according to their irrational cleaning standards (where it was required that I sweep the kitchen after I eat a bowl of cereal), I assumed that Margherita wouldn't ask me to spend my last hours in Rome watching Edoardo sleep.
I politely declined, explaining that my friends had scheduled a goodbye dinner for me a week prior (this was not true but how can you argue with that), and in response, Margherita told me that because I refused to work, she would not be able to host me any longer. I was told to return my keys to Nonna (grandma) at 1 pm on Friday after dropping off/picking up Edoardo from school. Paulina and I concluded that she was nuts, decided we would spend the night at the airport, and went on that evening to cause a scene with our pantomime dancing at The Yellow, a bar/hostel that refused to play Diamonds by Rihanna despite my multiple requests. The DJ was much too busy licking his girlfriend to touch the switchboard. This was easily one of the best nights of my life.
On Friday morning, after dropping off Edoardo at his ridiculous trilingual preschool, I was pouring a bowl of cereal when Nonna came through the door with four construction workers and the house maid, Lucy. She walked into the kitchen, clearly irritated, and started not-quite-yelling-but-almost at me, saying something about me needing to wake up "Paige" because they needed to do some work on my room. Nonna doesn't speak a word of English, and she's ignored my countless requests to speak slowly, so that translation was really the best I could do. I was completely caught by surprise, for I hadn't yet heard anything about this, but I rushed into my bedroom and shook Paulina awake. I was in the process of tossing Paulina her pants when Nonna and a couple of worker bees started fiddling with the lock to my door that works as a second entrance to the house.
We scurried to the kitchen, where I was eating my "Extra with Chocolate Bits" cereal, the only food in the house that I could stand, when Nonna entered the room with an armful of my pillows/sheets and dumped them on the table next to me. She then returned with another armful of my clothes and dropped them on the floor. She ended up making six dramatic dumpings, scattering all of my things around the house- in the kitchen, on the dining room floor, beneath the front door, before she started actually screaming at me in front of all the house help and Paulina. If I understood what she was saying I'm sure I would have been livid- as the construction workers were clearly uncomfortable and Lucy was horrified.
When she was finally finished berating me, Paulina took one look at me and said, "Kaylin, let's just go." So we did. We packed up my bags, gathering all of my things from various floors and tabletops, set my keys and shattered iPhone (for those of you who haven't been following this blogadoodle regularly, my host mother lent me her old iPhone to use while in Rome- I ended up dropping it and breaking the screen within two weeks and never told her) on the bench, and walked out the door. We made it all the way to the train station until I realized that I had forgotten my passport back at the house. But we were lucky- when we returned, only Lucy was home. As it turns out, she found my passport, drivers license, credit card, debit card, and health insurance card in a very forgettable drawer, and set them aside for me.
Margherita emailed me soon after all of this, with a long-winded report of my incompetence, making it ever so clear that they are perfect and I am wrong. Because I'm the bigger and better person and I deserve a medal, I said nothing, and wrote out a pretend "Are you kidding me?" response email that will remain safely locked in a word document buried deep within the files of "My Documents" for the rest of this computer's life.
Obviously after all of this Paulina and I were a bit jaded (and dirty- we ended up brushing our teeth and washing our frowning faces in the train station bathroom), but we were lucky enough to meet up with the unbelievably charming Ben Harris, who pulled us out of our funk. One strawberryandlemon gelato, Pope Francesco shot glass, and allergic-reaction-inducing mojito later (Mahmoud- these were absolutely amazing, but Paulina really shouldn't have eaten the mint leaf), I was a happy camper.
Coming home is a relief, really. These past few months have been... educational. I've learned loads, mostly how to cry in front of police officers to get them to do what I want. But the whole expat/au pair thing is exhausting. Chasing after an over-emotional toddler is one thing, moms everywhere know that, but being taken advantage of time and time again by a wealthy italian women is another. Also, living in somebody else's house, specifically the house of a couple minimalist clean freaks when used to living like a slob, and abiding by all of their unspoken rules takes a toll. And to avoid being totally and completely alone, it was important to be proactive in terms of friend-making~ which is tough, ask any unathletic 8 year old. But I would have to say that the most challenging aspect of living abroad is having to be hyper-aware of my surroundings all the time- so that I can occasionally understand people when they yell at me, refrain from getting lost as much as possible, and avoid standing out as an American asshole. It's a constant effort, and the only relief I get is lying under my covers streaming Mad Men I know I've talked about this before I'm still on Season 5 nobody tell me what happens.I politely declined, explaining that my friends had scheduled a goodbye dinner for me a week prior (this was not true but how can you argue with that), and in response, Margherita told me that because I refused to work, she would not be able to host me any longer. I was told to return my keys to Nonna (grandma) at 1 pm on Friday after dropping off/picking up Edoardo from school. Paulina and I concluded that she was nuts, decided we would spend the night at the airport, and went on that evening to cause a scene with our pantomime dancing at The Yellow, a bar/hostel that refused to play Diamonds by Rihanna despite my multiple requests. The DJ was much too busy licking his girlfriend to touch the switchboard. This was easily one of the best nights of my life.
On Friday morning, after dropping off Edoardo at his ridiculous trilingual preschool, I was pouring a bowl of cereal when Nonna came through the door with four construction workers and the house maid, Lucy. She walked into the kitchen, clearly irritated, and started not-quite-yelling-but-almost at me, saying something about me needing to wake up "Paige" because they needed to do some work on my room. Nonna doesn't speak a word of English, and she's ignored my countless requests to speak slowly, so that translation was really the best I could do. I was completely caught by surprise, for I hadn't yet heard anything about this, but I rushed into my bedroom and shook Paulina awake. I was in the process of tossing Paulina her pants when Nonna and a couple of worker bees started fiddling with the lock to my door that works as a second entrance to the house.
We scurried to the kitchen, where I was eating my "Extra with Chocolate Bits" cereal, the only food in the house that I could stand, when Nonna entered the room with an armful of my pillows/sheets and dumped them on the table next to me. She then returned with another armful of my clothes and dropped them on the floor. She ended up making six dramatic dumpings, scattering all of my things around the house- in the kitchen, on the dining room floor, beneath the front door, before she started actually screaming at me in front of all the house help and Paulina. If I understood what she was saying I'm sure I would have been livid- as the construction workers were clearly uncomfortable and Lucy was horrified.
When she was finally finished berating me, Paulina took one look at me and said, "Kaylin, let's just go." So we did. We packed up my bags, gathering all of my things from various floors and tabletops, set my keys and shattered iPhone (for those of you who haven't been following this blogadoodle regularly, my host mother lent me her old iPhone to use while in Rome- I ended up dropping it and breaking the screen within two weeks and never told her) on the bench, and walked out the door. We made it all the way to the train station until I realized that I had forgotten my passport back at the house. But we were lucky- when we returned, only Lucy was home. As it turns out, she found my passport, drivers license, credit card, debit card, and health insurance card in a very forgettable drawer, and set them aside for me.
Margherita emailed me soon after all of this, with a long-winded report of my incompetence, making it ever so clear that they are perfect and I am wrong. Because I'm the bigger and better person and I deserve a medal, I said nothing, and wrote out a pretend "Are you kidding me?" response email that will remain safely locked in a word document buried deep within the files of "My Documents" for the rest of this computer's life.
our expert cappuccino-maker waiter man, who claimed he was related to Dracula
Obviously after all of this Paulina and I were a bit jaded (and dirty- we ended up brushing our teeth and washing our frowning faces in the train station bathroom), but we were lucky enough to meet up with the unbelievably charming Ben Harris, who pulled us out of our funk. One strawberryandlemon gelato, Pope Francesco shot glass, and allergic-reaction-inducing mojito later (Mahmoud- these were absolutely amazing, but Paulina really shouldn't have eaten the mint leaf), I was a happy camper.
Unfortuantely, because of the messy ending, Italy now leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but I am so incredibly psyched that I was able to pull this off. I did what I had set out to do- I had a poor man's adventure, and grew up a little along the way. I'm quite in debt to mom and pops, due to the occasional mandatory credit card swipe, but that should be taken care of as soon as I get off my jet-lagged ass and find a job. And if all goes according to plan, I'll be back at Columbia in the spring, eager to wake up early and read and stuff.
Love n hugs forever until next time,
Kay
P.S. my mom bought me some "Welcome Home" shark-themed onesies can i hear an amen
