From about the second I figured out that I was Italian, and had the ability to think, I have wanted to visit Italy.
Now, I’ll admit, that I’m not as Italian as my pride suggests.
My great grandfather came over from Italy when he was 13. Now, while I know that it’s not terribly far-removed from my generation, it’s the marrying-out of the Italian-ness that has me all blonde, blue-eyed, and whatnot. (Just so you know, I’m fully aware that Northern Italians are in fact blonde and blue-eyed, however, my great-grandfather is from Southern Italy, where the dark-haired, dark-skinned folks are from. Hence, my dilemma.)
Anyway, I’m Italian. And proud. I believe this is what we’ve established so far.
So, I tell you all of that, to tell you this.
My husband is deployed this year. (Newsflash!) He gets leave time, and I’m kind of a demanding wife in that I want to see him when he’s on leave.
So this is what we’ve been able to figure out: It’s freakin’ expensive to fly all the way to where he is, and vice versa. (Not to mention that his current location doesn’t so much inspire happy vacation thoughts in me, this seems to be only me, as most people who know his location think I’m nuts and would LOVE to vacation where he is, but I’m not them, and so I have no interest in it.) So we looked into meeting halfway. And you know what? It’s cheaper for us to meet in Rome, Italy than it is for us to buy a ticket for the other to go all the way to where the other is. Make sense? If not, here’s what I mean in a nutshell……
I’M GOING TO ITALY!!!!!!!
I know, right? I’m totally excited for me, too! It won’t be until LATE in the summer, like say August or so, but who cares? I’ll be able to see my husband! (in Italy!) And spend time with him! (in Italy!) And hang out, and chat, and do….married stuff! (in Italy!) And tour Rome! (in Italy, but that was kind of implied, huh?)
I almost can’t believe it, and probably won’t actually believe it until I land. IN ITALY!
My brother and some of his friends will be accompanying me on this trip for 2 reasons:
1. I hate flying. Instead of totally freaking out a stranger on the plane by digging my nails into his skin and grabbing onto his pants’ legs, I will make sure that it is my brother to whom this torture will belong.
2. He really wants to go to, and so who am I to stop him?
I know what you’re thinking. “You’re brother is going with you to Italy? Where you’ll meet up with your husband after having not seen him for 8 months. Won’t you want some, um, privacy?”
Yes we will. And we will have it.
Y’see, my brother’s, friend’s, parents (did you get that chain of people?) have a time-share, and they’re letting us use it to get TWO rooms (which are separate and apart from one another) and all we have to do is pay the fee (which is like $100-ish) for the week! It’s a steal I tell you, a steal!
So it’s all set. I’m going to Italy.
Oh, and seeing my husband too. Can’t forget that!