Sorry I'm Late...

Living in Italy Naples has taught me one thing over and over again- the reason for a late arrival is very seldom a result of as something as basic as traffic, a reroute, or just poor planning. Come to think of it if your tardy friend says that traffic is the reason she is late, you better start wondering.

Christmas Eve. I already ran (more like hobbled since my knee was acting up bad) one load of gifts, food, and my overnight bag to the car. I come back up for one last check that the babies will be okay over night and that none of my breakables are at risk should they have a rowdy Christmas party. Alarm set, bag on my shoulder, and a small box of cookies and treats from my kitchen in my hand I ring the doorbell of my landlord's parents. I am clearly departing to my "other family" for Christmas celebrations starting with dinner in about an hour in a half which gives me plenty of time to get there, toss together the salad, and even enjoy a glass of wine.

Or so I thought. 

Si? 
Buona sera, questa Katherine. (locks opening and Teresa peaks out of the door to see the box of dolce) Buon Natale! 

She lets me in (first warning) and goes into their living room and comes back with what we affectionately refer to as the "Italian fruitcake." Side story here- Panatone. Around this time every year they come in a various types and in different color of boxes. Most even come with a bottle of prosecco! You see Italians filling up carts of these boxes in the stores to inevitably trade with a friend.  I smile and thank her for the cake as she decides it's time to call up her son so I can chat with him about the house?

The poor man is getting ready for one of his busiest days at the restaurant, but plays along with small talk for 5 or so minutes. During this time his mom, is pressing me to have candies out of a dish and asking if I'd like coffee. I let Joe (my landlord) know that I was just doing a quick stop by to wish his parents a Merry Christmas and drop of cookies before going to my friends' house for dinner. A few more minutes on the phone with him I finally pass the phone back to his mom.

Great- prefect time...I shuffle in my chair and glance at my watch to see just how fast I need to drive. 

Teresa starts talking and to my surprise I'm actually understanding what she is asking. Maybe I am picking up the language OR (most likely) it's the same conversations we have every time so I'm getting better at answering about my family, traveling, work, weather, and the house. Nico always makes the conversation too- of course! Going  back and forth, probably slipping way more Spanish in there than I even knew I still know she gets up again asking if I want coffee.

No grazie. 
Then she asks about lemons? Um sure? She walks back from the other side of the kitchen counter with a plastic bag full of lemons and oranges and a bottle of "home brewed" wine that her brother made.

More (labored) chatting about how she mailed a 18kg box to her family in NJ and she hopes it gets there in time and asking about what we will be eating for dinner we finally run our of things to talk about (or you know, my so limited vocab).

I have no idea what time it is, but the darkening sky and many church bells reveal I was there much longer than planned. She helps me gather up all my regali  as I once again thank her and wish her a Buon Natale and hobble down the stairs.

When I finally reach Lori's, frantically getting stuff unloaded I see her and let her know "Sorry, my landlady held my hostage." Without batting an eye, she says, "no prob."

See? She's been here even longer- she knows the drill! Oh well- I need to use these excuses now while I can because I guarantee that won't be an option to use when I'm back in the states! Oh and I also need to see how many creative ways I can use panatone.

American Gladiators

Okay. Maybe not so much. I mean, I do have a brace on my knee!

This weekend I checked out ancient Capua (Santa Maria Capua Vetere). If Capua sounds familiar maybe it's because you recall a certain gladiator named Spartacus. Spartacus trained as a gladiator in the ancient Capua. Lots of gladiators did actually as it was the training grounds. As a community with a love hate relationship with Rome, its loyalty to the Empire faltered over the years, especially during war time. At one point, Capua severed winter holding grounds for Hannibal during his attack on Rome. In its time, Capua was a big deal! It was the second most important city in Italy (second to Rome) due to the number of soldiers it produced for war time campaigns. The Appian Way (Via Appia) which was the main road to Rome cuts right through the city.

Unfortunately I had no time to put together a gladiator outfit together for our visit to the ancient gladiator training grounds. (You better believe this will not be a mistake made twice!) What remains now of the anfiteatro built in the time of Augustus is still impressive. The once 4 story structure could hold 60,000 spectators.  The current structure was built between the 1st and 2nd century AD, most likely over the existing type of structure. And even better? Unlike the coloseo in Rome, you can wander through the passages below! And this isn't a tiny structure either, it's the next largest one to it's famous Roman relative.

Of course we didn't realize this as first and as we stood on the floor of the area, thinking about the deaths that took place under our feet we realized there were a ton of passages below. "I want to go there! And hey, since this is Italy there has got to be a way." As we wandered through the arena I spotted stairs going down into darkness so naturally I took them. At the bottom of the stairs a metal gate blocked the doorway, however several of the bars had been moved bent so that you could easily pass through. Alright, maybe not so easily, but I had my 'sploring jacket on so it had to be done.

Once through the fence, we found ourselves in a land of columns, neatly arranged between channels (mini moats). Green moss grew under the filtered sunshine streaming in and the air smelled like moist dirt. Shortly after being an "alley" of columns I realized we were on a set of a horror film so scurried back over to the others and we vowed to stay in a pack. It made the demon possessed coos from a pigeon a few minutes later way less frightening...once we realized what was making that terrible sound.

The different sections are still a mystery as what they were really used for, but in my mind they were small rooms for animals and the gladiators. We passed column after column and finally realized that we had 2 options to get back up to the ground level. As in a much more visitor friendly way to tour the underground passages. See? Totally "legal" touring method and we had more fun taking the path less traveled!
Next time, there has to be a next time so I need to show up with my triton and net, come visit with us and we can re-create Spartacus' Rebellion!

Leap of Faith

I made a big decision yesterday.
And made it official today.

And?

Well, I keep flashing back to my summer spent at Redwood Christian Park (RCP) and one stunt on the ropes course. To my fellow RCPers, do you remember the "Leap of Faith?" I'm sure there was a tie in to trusting God, but let's face it- it was just fun! To this day I still don't know how we scurried up those wooden slats way up that redwood tree and stepped out on to that tiny platform and leaped with all our might to the trapeez bar hanging out in front.

Or you know, be terrified but hear the calls of encouragement from friends 40ft below while you cursed yourself for being the first volunteer. And when you finally picked the one voice you wanted to listen to your feet were suddenly lead and it was impossible to inch forward. Even when all the sweat from your palms should have helped? Okay, maybe it was never that bad but if you've ever jumped off a platform/high dive, out of a plane, or into a shark cage you know there's that pause. The moment when you feel your pulse in your toes. Your racing heart is the only thing you hear. Your stomach feels like a lead ball and a black hole at the same time. Now that I think about it, it's probably my survival instinct saying "Katie. This can go terribly wrong, terribly fast."

And it can.
And it may.
But there are still a few safety nets built into my decision...there always are.
I'm a control freak- remember? Not to mention I used to be a safety officer.

Now that I'm recalling all those summers post ropes course install, the little voice that narrates my flash backs is strongly suggesting that I never actually caught the bar...but it didn't matter. The rope securely attached to my harness was threaded through a simple system and safely on the ground I knew the ropes course folks would make sure I left the trees and eventually make it back to the ground.

My safety net? Well I sure hope I don't have to hit it because with this leap of faith I plan on catching that bar and hanging on for dear life. However, if something goes terribly wrong, I will let that net catch me and when I'm ready to give it another go, I do just that.

So...what's my leap of faith?

Long exhale....

Today I committed to leaving Naples at the end of my 3 year tour.

So what's next?
I have no idea. That's where the faith part comes in. I can't hold onto the tree and still expect to hang from that bar. One must go and I chose to let Naples go. Head out here and we can discuss all my reasons over a bottle of wine, but just trust me when I say this is the right decision...

For now?

• Butterflies are having a war in my tummy. I think the excitement butterflies are conquering the nervous ones that until today have had complete dominance.We'll see how I sleep tonight.
• I continue to search for jobs within the government. Anywhere and everywhere I can.
• I create my Italy Bucket List.
• Nico needs to get ready to travel. 

Firenze. Round II

Nothing beats jet-lag like a road trip up to Florence a few short days after returning back to Naples. Right?

Well, it was worth a shot because let's face it, if I stayed at home I'd be sleeping all day and never adjusting back to Naples time. So, despite a way early Friday evening and a Nico kitty begging me to not leave him again, I was up and at 'em early Saturday morning to head to the civilized north with my travel squad for a little Christmas market shopping and of course, a trip to the leather market.

Florence was just as fabulous as I remembered it earlier in the year, even through my ebola virus/cold medicine haze. The clean streets, easily understood Italian, and somehow fading in with the locals rather than looking touristy (me!)  still amazed me.

We checked into our super cute room right by Ponte Vechia and set off exploring. Well, mainly  in search of one of the top panini shops which was delayed when we all piled into the typical European and it wouldn't go anywhere. Seriously. It was like the start to bad joke "2 brunettes, a blonde, and a dog pile into an elevator..." "How do you get it to go? Well, apparently the answer is "have Katie step out." Yep, when I stepped out of it it worked! I had to listen to Cam and Lori laugh all the way down the 3 flights of stairs. Um yeah. I am the one in a knee brace...

Oh well...onward to lunch because my Angry Bird cookies weren't enough on the 4 hour drive up.

And lunch we had. We knew we had reached our destination when we saw i grandi panini heading our way and a line blocking the sidewalk. The best part of this line? On the outside of the shop there was a "self serve" wine bar with various bottles of wine and glasses. Drink and wait- only in Italy! 2E a glass? What a deal! And the panini did not disappoint! So many different veggie spreads, cheese, and meat which made  up for the lack of personal space in the "shop." Oh and did I mention that the brothers working were hot? Totally helps. Chalk another one up for northern Italy please...

Panini in hand (okay, now we looked like tourists) we headed to San Croce square for the Christmas market. Although the market failed in providing much in terms of Christmas things, it was a nice change of pace for the weekly markets down in Naples. The best part of the place? Probably all the German/Austrian inspired food. Oh wait, what am I talking about? It was the cotton candy and hot mulled wine. Of course we were filled with lunch so we decided to make plans to come back for dinner.

Next stop? Eh, wherever we felt like going. It's nice to have already done 90% of the touristy stuff in a city so you can just wander the leather markets OR head straight to the guy you liked last time to see what new things there are. Although I had every intention of buying Christmas gifts for others after the 2 weeks of shopping for me in the states, I somehow splurged with my left over December euros and ended up with my polka-dot leather gloves and two totes. Side note, Nina one of these may be headed your way, but the one that reminded me of you has been the one I've been using. In summary? I guess another trip to Florence is in call for to pick you up another, unused one that is if you like it. Remind me to show you next time we chat.



By late afternoon I had to pull the "jet-lagged" and "injured" cards. Yep. Both. The result? A fabulous hot chocolate and cookie break at the place where the waiter insisted my name was Jenny on the last trip. It was the same guy this time, but he didn't seem to care about our names this time around. Maybe that's because I swear they all know Lori by heart since it's one of the "mandatory stops" when in Florence. Lots of people watching later, we headed back to the hotel for a quick regroup before heading back out in search of food.

Of course. When in doubt, we always leave for search of food.

And food we found. Lots of wine. Lots of sugar. Lots of potatoes and pork knuckles.

The sad part?

We were back to our room, full, and knocked out by about 9pm. I'd like to blame the super early departure...but I can't. We were tired. Plain and simple.

Day 2 was pretty much more of the same- food (breakfast a place that had been around for 100 years and served scrambled eggs! and the most fabulous biscotti place) and this time trekking around the Piazza Pitti side of the bridge in search of the "Unusual Market." It was different, once we found it, but not so much unusual. Local shops had come together in a hall with small booths to sell their items. Had I not been so over dealing with crowds at this point or feeling exhausted it may have been fun. The next market we ran into was fun. Outside in a square with trees all around booths of primarily "farmer's market" types of goods stood: honey, oil, sweets, bread, jewelry, clothes, flowers.

With the south calling, we decided to get a move on to get back at a decent hour for work the next day. Plugging "home" into the GPS lead us even further into uncharted areas of Florence but it was beautiful in ways that only a single lane road surrounded by concrete walls can be through a vineyard. And a stop an autogrill. Of course!

Bella (?) Napoli

I arrived in Naples just over an hour ago and despite ample leg room, personal space, and a fabulous book (Divergent) to get caught up in heading from Germany to Italy- the damp smokey air that met me getting off the plane AND walking to the luggage claim just didn't see like home.

Don't get me wrong- I'm thrilled to be back among these friends, speeding to the base on an empty road with little fear of ticket in RAVI. But the sense of relief and feeling of "home"that usually comes witht he appluase of touching down tonight felt a bit more like impeding doom.

Um...been traveling for the past day and didn't sleep too much.

When the wheels lifted up in Monterey the fear started to creep in. I have NO idea when I'll be there again. Next Thanksgiving? Next Christmas? Will I be flying in for a few days? Road tripping?

For a planner like me, these things drive me nuts. Crazy. Loca. Pazza.

A few phone calls sitting in SFO brought me back to my immediate future as I crammed a little more California in with a Warriors game playing over the bar as I drank an Anchor Steam beer.

Why is it when I'm in Cali I want all things Napoli & vice versa?

With my mind racing, filled with worse case scenarios about things, little did I know I was in the worst flight I have EVER had: hot temperature, 3 year old kicking my seat (and crying), nasty dreadlocks peaking over the seat in front of me, meals that made me queasy, turbulence waking me up when I finally fell asleep. And did I mention that my brain would not turn off?

Lots of things spinning around- all related, causing that sinking feel in the pit of my stomach and lumps in my throat. I don't even think I can identify all of the issues, concerns, doubts. It may all stem from the fact that this time on my return I'm wondering if I really still belong in Naples.

I'm sure within a few days that this feeling will flee...at least I hope that's the case!

Nothing as terrible as returning to your dungeon after 2+ weeks of freedom to question my optimism. More like adding fuel to the "I need to get married, have a few kids, and not work full time anymore." Yeah, it is going to work like that. :)

Time to sleep.
Work, errands, and kitties tomorrow. 

Italy is calling...oh wait that's the airport man

No more spoiling by my parents.
No more non-Italian food.
No more laughing until I cry with OG & GWB.
No more wake up calls by a voice I love hearing.
No more "that's the problem with America"s escaping my lips.
No more clear air.
No more garbage disposals.
No more reliable internet. 
No more ease dropping on conversations in stores.
No more shopping sprees.
No more visits to the animal shelters.
No more Saturday naps on the couch while football games are played on the tv.
No more country stations on my car radio.
No more heaters that actually warm up the place.
...And perhaps, the worst one of all...no more work free days!

It's funny how when I'm eagerly anticipating my annual trip to the states, my weekish trip always turns into 2+ weeks if I have the vacation time. Why? Well tickets aren't cheap, not to mention the fact that it's a long flight x 2!  At least 2 full days are spent on planes and in airports. So I depart with grand plans of visiting other locations to see friends and relatives outside of the Monterey area. Lists of appointments, places to eat, things to do, and people to see.

Well, just like the prior two trips, as this one winds down there are still items unchecked. And I can't stand that!

Problem is, I'm all out of vacation time, changing plane tickets is expensive, and I've got 3 kitties arriving at my house later this week. Not to mention the fact that my credit cards can't afford anymore exercise and I miss my life in Italy.

Time to head back.
Refreshed.
Recharged.
Eyes twinkling, teeth sparkling, heart ticking, & knee healing.
Holding a driver's license with a non 15-year old Katie on it.
Dressed in new clothes.
Carrying enough peppermint items I really should declare it to the customs man. Just kidding.

Decisions need to be made. Nico needs attention. And I need to hit the gym.

California (& Oregon too!) family and friends thank you for another fabulous trip home. Keep in touch and try your best to come out and visit me! Life really is fabulous is Naples. Different, but fabulous in its own way. Don't delay too much- my current "expiration" date is only 167 days away!

Job Search 2014

It's sort of tough to avoid the inevitable when visiting with EVERYONE they ask what's next after Italy.

Well, although I still have no idea what path I'll take, I actually spent today in my pjs (it's too cold to leave my bed) applying for jobs. I feel like I'm in the same exact place I was 4 years ago when I finally reached the "must flee Monterey" mark and flooded the government job site with my resume.

Like I did today. 

More jobs are being posted, which is encouraging, but still it's hard to apply for positions when I know how hiring goes...they post because they have to, but already have the person in mind. Not to mention all these jobs sound the same despite being different titles and different agencies. And yet should I end up in the job, it won't be like what they told me it would be...

Mom, Dad, all jobs I applied for were stateside.
Nina, you'd be happy to hear lots of them are near you.

So just to keep things in perspective in between rating my skill set with each application, I've been putting together other options, just in case I decide this government deal can't go on past 8 years of service:

COA #2: Join the circus. Marry a carnie. Eat cotton candy daily. Lots of traveling. Optional pet lemur?

COA #3: Apply to be the next Bacholorette per a former colleague's advice. (May not end up with a ring on my finger or someone I want to be with, but the $ should keep me good for a year or so...right?)

COA #4: Launch Nico's modeling career. Full marketing attack- toys, children's books, feline clothing, sing-a-long with Signore Neeks in addition to his trademark calendar.

COA #5: Open up a coffee shop/bakery. Small place with daily menu of tasty muffins, scones, cookies. Quality coffee served one hot cup at a time.

COA #6: Run off to Kenya. Dig wells. Adopt adorable babies. Get a parasite. And skin cancer.

COA #7: Work for the private terminal at the airport (i.e the rich people's one). Meet a millionaire. Marry him and wait for his money to come my way. (Brought to by the same person as COA 3.)

COA #8: Liquidate all my funds. Travel the world. Wherever I end up when my last dollar, euro, pound, whatever is spent, I've found my new home.

COA #9: Run for Congress. I mean, how difficult can it really be?

COA #10: PhD school. Although my coworkers said I shouldn't apply if that's what I'm calling it...