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What is it about Italy? - The Fucking Bluebird of Goddamn Happiness [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

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What is it about Italy? [Jul. 1st, 2016|09:37 am]
In July 2014 we went to Italy. Before we went there, I couldn't stand olives.

When we came back, I loved them. I still do. I have a giant jar of them in the fridge, and every once in a while lunch is simply olives and artichoke hearts, maybe with a little feta.

This year, our Mediterranean cruise started in Italy and our first stop was on the island of Capri. Before we got there, orange was a color that I associated with traffic cones and not much else. I didn't really like it at all.

While shopping I saw and fell in love with an orange purse. I carry it everywhere now. It doesn't match anything I own, but I don't care. It's my new favorite color.

I didn't have this kind of thing happen when I visited any other country. Not Israel back in 2006, nor England or Germany later that year. Not Greece or Turkey in the latter part of this trip. I saw many amazing things, and am grateful for the experience. But none of them completely changed an aspect of my very nature.

Italy apparently has a special, magical hold over me. I'm okay with that--I'd move there in a heartbeat, given the chance. It's just peculiar and amusing.

[User Picture]From: bart_calendar
2016-07-01 02:58 pm (UTC)
I have a feeling an American bankruptcy lawyer would be in demand in Italy.
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[User Picture]From: mplsindygirl
2016-07-01 11:02 pm (UTC)
:) I've never been to Italy, but I blame Germany for my Nutella habit.
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[User Picture]From: ccr1138
2016-07-02 12:32 am (UTC)
A friend of mine went with me overseas, and when we were in Belfast she literally broke down, with the feeling that she had lived there before or somehow BELONGED there. I think certain places may be in our DNA.
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[User Picture]From: zoethe
2016-07-02 05:36 pm (UTC)
I was actually glad that we ventured from Rome to Venice and flew home from there. Though I enjoyed Venice, it didn't feel like home the way Rome did, so I was ready to get on a place.

If we'd had to fly out of Rome, I might still be clinging to a lamp post, refusing to go to the airport.
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