Boxing Day?

Well, it's the day after the day after Christmas, which I guess makes today Tae Bo day, or whatever.

I'm officially on winter break which, in medical school lingo, means I have a respiratory physiology exam the day after I get back from "vacation" and a cumulative morphology exam testing everything I've learned since October within the month. You say happy holidays, I say fuck you.

Giulio and I decided to indulge in spite of ourselves by going skiing/snowboarding for three days. The snow was not perfect but we had heaps of fun drinking vin brule, bombardini, and thick ass hot chocolates.  We ate hot dogs and french fries whenever we felt like it and finished each day with a glass of Gewurztraminer- so delicious it left sugar crystals in the bottom of the glass.

Unfortunately we have since returned from our giro and now the cruel, cruel reality has set in- Giulio is back at work (for free) and I have drank six coffees, eaten three bowls of cereal, and managed to successfully avoid opening my histology textbook. I was so afraid of finding myself incapable of absorbing academic material that I opted instead to spend the morning doing something that makes me feel truly confident in my repertoire of skills:

and by "skills" I don't actually mean doing laundry, just watching it.

Anyway, I guess it's about time for me to go pluck my unibrow. I'll leave you with a cheery holiday photo and a video of me shredding the slopes in the Italian Alps this past weekend. Buone feste a tutti. X

a big bear hug from yours truly

Seasons Greetings

PEACE & JOY

From our cold, black hearts to yours.

Love,

G & Liv

My Latest Obsession

I've finally sorted out my Nikon D60- it had a broken piece of plastic attaching the lens to the body which cost me $62.00 to fix- two dollars in parts and sixty in labor (and like, thirty in gas money because the shop was in an insanely rural part of town). When I finally unraveled it from its protective bubble wrap, I realized that the eyepiece had gone blurry; I tried with all my might to fix it using only my intrinsic skills, but eventually surrendered and read the manual which is something I fundamentally hate. Anyway, after a simple shift of the diopter, everything has been resolved and I can now resume iPhone-free image sharing. And so, I present you my flavor of the week: POCKET COFFEE.

Giving Thanks

Yesterday we learned about this thing called nephroptosis which causes the kidney to sag in the body due to a disappearance of visceral fat. It can be caused by diseases like pregnancy and anorexia. This year I'm thankful for having neither of the two and for generally being hefty enough to maintain my organs at their proper height.


Liv: 1
Gravity: 0

Last night I went out for a somewhat shitty "gourmet" thanksgiving meal with an assortment (culturally speaking) of folks (figuratively speaking) from my university. The food was overpriced and overly aesthetic-centered. I wanted me some straight up ugly Betty Crocker shit- stuffing, gravy, turkey and mashed sweet potatoes with those heinous little marshmallow thingies on top. Instead, Giulio and I walked away with an 85 euro bill and an uncomfortably high sobriety level. On this note, I am also unthankful for the fact that we didn't receive these two days off from lessons- my mind just can't reconcile why the school recognizes Jewish holidays (for instance) but not America's obesity-centered holidays. According to me, all represented cultures should, in fact, be represented in an International MD program. But whatever, I protested by skipping classes today anyway. Actually, I'm not so much indulging my activism as I am simply nauseated. Plus, I'm playing catch-up. I've got an exam every week until Christmas and my weekday binge drinking is forcing me into a somber detox-demanding mood.  


I'm searching for a hobby outside of drinking and studying. Life as a med student is manic and it's essential to indulge in outside activities to keep oneself sane. balanced. mentally charged, (meanwhile periodically decompressed). Me. Well, I'm still trying to access that. I don't have my piano or guitar. but I do download The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on iTunes which really helps keep things light. Sometimes Giulio and I play chess too, but it took me about 30 games to finally beat him and I've refused to play since experiencing that sweet taste of victory. I suppose I have also been feeling the runners itch lately, but I'm not sure whether this is a matter of hygiene or in fact my curiosity to know whether I could outruna Triceratops should the occasion every arise. The Milan marathon is in April; I've been flirting with the idea, but my knee still hurts from that one year I ran four marathons with a training regimen that consisted of driving my car to work.


i digress.


My big news and big thanks is that based on my previous coursework, I was able to skip the first year of medical school. This is really huge because it saved my sugar-mother on the order of like, $25,000 and more importantly, put me one year closer to an early retirement. I freak out a little each day that I spend a shamefully hedonistic amount of time fantasizing about going skiing, wearing ugly sweaters, and drinking eggnog. I also think a lot about how I would really love to be a writer or a teacher. This past year I've noticed an immense shift in my attitude toward "success"- either my priorities are changing, or my definition of success is changing (see- becoming a professional eggnog drinker). It's strange. I don't care so much about perfect grades. I care more about things like gardening. I miss my family and my dearest friends. No, I actually crave them. I wonder sometimes if I'm really cut out for this med student business. Sometimes I sense myself as a phony. But at this point, I'm going to keep faking it until I make it. 

my biggest thanks to you, who i love
(dreaming of ugly sweaters and eggnog...)

The Smoking Goat

After a five-month hiatus from work and school and generally all things intellectual, I have finally matriculated into medical school. I had a mini panic attack the first week when I realized 1.) that I didn’t even know what year it was, and 2.) that I had forgotten how to write with a pen; but by week three I had sufficiently brushed the cobwebs off my synapses and by week four was already contemplating that I could be verging burnout.  Although I haven't yet found medical school too insulting to my inaccurate self-perceptions of being super smart, the amount of information needed to be learned IS dense and immense. Anyway, while I am at most times remarkably good at complaining, on this occasion I really can’t say much but good things about my colleagues, professors, and program as a whole. It's been a while that I liked so many people in one place, and while I won’t traverse so far as to say that I’m happy, I am presently abstaining from prescription anti-depressants.

Instead of complaining, I decided to relay five randomly-chosen observations taken from the past month.

1. Tardiness: Ok, basically, there like, isn't such a thing. If my lesson for instance, is slotted to commence at 9am, I have learned that this actually means any time after 9:15. There is even an official “academic grace period” whose decree it is to officialize that fifteen minutes late isn’t actually late.  This fact also applies to the coffee breaks we predictably receive every 45-50 minutes- a "five" minute break is on the order of ten to fifteen minutes, while a "ten" minute break on the order of 15-35, and so on. Admittedly, my learning benefits tremendously from these brief pauses in information upload.

2. Burn & Sediment: During aforementioned breaks, one typically frequents an on-campus café for a barista-made potation, OR indulges in the (very delicious/awesome/fantastic) cappuccino vending machine. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I am absolutely fucking fascinated by this thing.  Even after one month of indulging twice daily in said technological miracle, I still find myself crouched down to the ground, attempting to peer into the machine's insides as if I were a pervert underneath the bleachers at a high school football game. Anyway, #16 is my favorite- cappuccino con cacao. 

3. Lunch Breaks: Ok this is crazy but, PEOPLE ACTUALLY TAKE THEM! And if somebody notices you working through your lunch break while mindlessly munching your panini, well, my friend, I'm sorry to say that you have just committed social suicide.  

4. Physical Well Being: Health professionals (easily spotted by their white coats and rubber shoes) shamelessly stand outside the hospital inhaling their cancer sticks and exhaling the smoke into the atmosphere of the very patients they just advised to quit. oops.

5. Emotional Well Being: According to a rumor I heard, the on-campus ZOO was installed as a way to catalyze tranquility for (non-smoking?) patients. There are monkeys, goats, parrots, lambs and copious other creatures that call the concrete jungle immediately outside my classroom, "home".  They screech and sing most of the day, everyday. Sometimes they are so loud that when I play back my recorded notes, the only thing audible is the animal (as was the reason the lecture was unintelligible in the first place.)

But anyway, this is medical school in Italy, and I love it.

The New Digs

When I transplanted life as I knew it to Italy, I moved into the apartment Giulio has called home for the past six years. Though its great potential struck me immediately (supreme location, high ceilings, big rooms, lots of light), according to my research, the apartment had not been cleaned since the cradle of civilization. And by "not been cleaned" I mean that the photos released of Osama Bin Laden's postmortem bedroom looked strikingly similar to ours. So, I unleashed my tyrannical OCD mania on Giulio and after a period of hysterical crying, trashing, cleaning, and shopping, we finally arrived at an aesthetic state worthy of hosting many a dinner party. Presently, there's even a loaf of homemade rosemary olive bread in the oven. 

living room before

living room after

our bedroom before

our bedroom after

   

La Dolce Visa

I fell in love and moved to Italy. Glamorous? YES.
Always unicorns and rainbows? Definitely not.

This piece details the process you must undergo to obtain a study visa in Italy. I have purposefully left out the manic episodes I suffered doing things the wrong way, and opted to focus on how YOU should do it should you find yourself at the beginning of this onerous journey. Gather as much information from blogs or any other resource you can. Talk to people who have already gone through the process if you can. And keep in mind that every Italian Consulate has it's own unique set of required documents, deadlines, etc, and so you must take responsibility to get in touch with the consulate of your jurisdiction to find out precisely what is expected of you. The experience herein reflects my escapade with the San Francisco Consulate.

Before you can apply for a study visa, you need to have a legalized translation of your degrees. This is called a Dichiarazione di Valore and as I discovered, it is a separate process from the visa. Do not email the visa office asking questions about the dichiarzione di valore, (you idiot). Instead, email the consulate's "legal department" and request a PDF of their requirements for obtaining the DV. 

The first thing I did was obtain an apostille for my high school and college diplomas and transcripts. To do this, you must contact your secretary of state in the state that issued the diploma to determine their exact requirements. For me it meant a California apostille for high school as well as a Washington apostille for university. These states differed slightly. For Washington I had to include the following:

• original sealed transcript from my University and original diploma as is (neither notarized)
• a check for $15 per document ($30 total) made payable to the secretary of state
• a cover letter including the name of the school and country requesting the documents, my contact information, and information on where the documents should be mailed after they are apostilled
• a pre-paid Fed Ex air bill so they could return the documents to me.  

For California, I had to get a notarized COPY of my high school diploma and a notarized official transcript. Furthermore, the consulate required a notary public to witness the REGISTRAR's signature on both the (opened) official transcript and the diploma (which means your school either needs to have a notary public on site, or you need to call a traveling notary public to come to the school). Written on the official high school transcript, it must say:

" I __________________, Registrar, certify that these are official high school transcripts from ______________ school/university."
On the COPY of the diploma it must say:
"I __________________, Registrar, certify that this is a copy of        (your name)    _ diploma from _______________ school/university."

Below each sworn statement the registrar must sign his name in the presence of the notary and a Jurat form must be stapled to each document separately. After this, you can send the notarized documents to the secretary of state's notary department. Include a cover letter (with the same information required for the WA letter above), a check in the amount of $20 per document, and a FedEx prepaid return envelope/air bill for them to return your documents.

The apostille should take roughly two weeks to arrive back in your hands.

While you're waiting for your apostilles to return, you must complete a typed translation of all your coursework. In my case, this meant a translation of (only) my university transcripts, formatted in the precise way as the original transcript, and a translation of both my high school and college diplomas. The translation needs to be accurate but it does not need to be done by a professional, nor notarized. And please make sure the translation is in Italian, (you idiot). 

Once your apostilles return and your translations have been completed, you are ready to apply for your dichiarazione di valore. Send the apostilled packets exactly as they were received (with the fucking staple right through your college diploma) along with the translation of your diplomas/transcripts. I was also asked to include a cover letter, two 2x2 passport photos, three additional official university transcripts, a completed "Domanda di Preiscrizione" (FORM A, which I found and printed from the Consulate website) and a prepaid return airbill (through USPS because according to the consulate, the other couriers are unreliable). Keep in mind that some consulates may only accept applications for DV's for schools within their jurisdiction. This means that if you went to a high school and college in different states, you may have to send them to different consulates (and it sucks to be you). CALL THEM if you're unsure. Once they're sent, wait 4-6 weeks, but keep in touch from time to time so they don't forget about you.

So now you have received your dichiarazione di valore. Breathe because you just completed the hardest part!  Now you're ready to apply for the visa. Keep in mind that you MUST do this in person. I had to fly back early and cut off five weeks of my travels in Europe just to show up at the bloody consulate in person. Also be aware of deadlines and their hours of operation for visas. Some consulates require appointments, some only take walk-ins. If your consulate does not require an appointment, prepare to get there one hour early so you can get to the front of the line. Either way, make sure you have everything ready- you only want to do this once, trust me. Bring the following with you:

1. Completed application form with a passport photo (2x2 inches) glued to the front. You can download this online.

2. Passport or official travel document (original and copy) valid for at least three months beyond the validity date of the visa requested. The passport must have a blank page available for the visa to be affixed.

3. Driver's License or State ID (original and copy) proving residence in that particular consular jurisdiction.

4. Alien Registration Card (original and copy) if you are a non-US citizen.

5. Letter of acceptance from the university, in Italian (original plus one copy). The letter (on official letterhead, signed and sealed by an official representative) must include the following:

• name of the student
• complete name and address of the school in Italy
• the exact period of study including day/month/year and weekly hours
• a statement that tuition, room and board, and health insurance will be covered, or that the university will help the student arrange these things

6. Affidavit of health insurance coverage (download from consulate website), signed and notarized

7. Proof of Funds. If you are self sufficient you must request a letter from your bank (on official letterhead, signed by a bank official) that states the exact balance of your account. You must be able to demonstrate that you have a minimum of $900.00/month for the extent of your visa (up to one year) in your account. If you are financially dependent, then you must provide an affidavit of support (downloadable form) signed by your sugar mama and notarized, as well as an original, signed letter from the bank stipulating the exact balance (and it must be recently dated).

8. Proof of adequate lodging for the entirety of your stay. This could be in the form of a lease or a signed and notarized letter from a family member with whom you will stay, or hotel reservation, etc. 

9. Proof of roundtrip flight reservations. (I only had to show my reservation for the way there, but some consulates may be different). 

Once you leave, your visa will arrive probably two days before your intended date of departure, making for a particularly sweaty week up until your departure. But you will get it and life will be GOOD!

Additional Information

I was not allowed to apply fewer than 30 days or more than 90 days prior to my departure to Italy.

You must go through the consulate office appropriate to your jurisdiction. Not every state has a visa office which means your consulate office sees residents not only of your state, but of your specific city/county. 

Be overly nice to any employee you interact with by phone, email, or in person. They are, as I have witnessed, understaffed so make sure they remember you by your kindness and not your inclination to act as an asshole. Keep in mind that although they are terribly inefficient, they DO have something that you need and that they can find any reason to deny you of this thing (or pull some strings in your favor).

Take advantage of emailing and calling and if you have someone who can speak on your behalf in Italian, it will make a difference on how fast you can get things done.

In boca al lupo!

Parmigiana di Melanzane

What You Need

for the sauce 

• a bunch of chopped, homegrown tomatoes (or two large cans of diced tomatoes if you're desperate)
• two small cans of tomato paste
• five (or more!) cloves of chopped garlic
• two chopped onions (i used shallots because it's what i had)
• 1/4 cup sugar
• a few teaspoons of dried crushed red pepper
• two tablespoons italian seasoning or oregano 
• two tablespoons dried basil (or fresh leaves if you prefer)
• a few teaspoons of salt/pepper to taste
• olive oil

for the eggplant

• one big ass eggplant, cut into 1/2 inch slices
• 3 eggs
• a few tablespoons of water
• 1 cup breadcrumbs seasoned with italian seasoning or dried oregano
• 3 tablespoons grated parmesan
• three logs of shredded low-moisture mozzarella (or two packs from TJ's)
• olive oil

preparation

saute a few tablespoons of olive oil, onion, and garlic on medium heat for 5 minutes. Add remaining ingredients (for the sauce) and cook on medium for as long as possible. the longer the better. while it is cooking, prepare the eggplant. whisk eggs and water together with a fork. Combine breadcrumbs with parmesan. Dip each eggplant slice in the egg mixture and then in the breadcrumb mixture. Cook eggplant in batches in a large skillet over medium heat, roughly four minutes per side in olive oil. Remove from pan and layer eggplant, mozzarella, and sauce. Bake for 35 minutes at 375 degrees. Sprinkle with remainder of mozzarella and a few tablespoons of grated parmesan and bake for ten more minutes or until the cheese turns slightly brown. Buon appetito!

for the sauce

before stacking

forgot to snap a photo of the final presentation, so, here's this

Gli Fiori

"The customer is always right"-  an indoctrinated attitude held by most Americans and an old adage perhaps completely foreign to most Italians. Recently, I experienced a hybridization of these dogmas.

Giulio just had a birthday which gave me another opportunity to consider how grateful I am that he is alive by commodifying my gratitude with something purchasable. Unfortunately we were forced to spend the day on separate hemispheres so I was limited to what I could send (Italian customs are notoriously greedy).

I opted for flowers and ordered them through an American company that commissions local Italian florists. I decided on a bouquet of wild orchids as they happen to be my favorite flower and are also of sentimental value to Giulio and I. To indulge a little extra in highlighting my affection, the package was also meant to include a "box of goodies" and a bouquet of balloons. 

The afternoon of Giulio's birthday, he called to thank me for the roses. "ROSES? what!?" Giulio is the first to know that roses happen to be, like, my least favorite flower (next to carnations). He himself even mentioned that he didn't realize they were from me until he opened the card because I would never send him roses (except maybe as a punishment). Trying not to sound confused and frustrated, I asked Giulio about the balloons and he naturally replied by saying "what balloons?" In my imagined glimpse of the imminent future, I likened myself to a violently angry parent publicly ruining his child's birthday by being overly fanatic at Chuck E. Cheese's; trying to remain calm,  I inquired into his "box of goodies", at which point he dangled a cheap plastic bag of conspicuously shitty candies in front of the skype video cam. I was horrified, so I wrote a letter. (a precautionary note- as it is my preferred intention to story-tell rather than be a consumer critic, I have changed the signature names of the flower company.)

Dear Sir or Madam,

I recently ordered flowers to be delivered to my boyfriend in Milan today. I have had several positive experiences with your company on previous occasions and so, have remained a loyal customer.

Today I was surprised to see that what my boyfriend received was not at all what I ordered. I paid for a bouquet of exotic orchids and Giulio instead received 8 pink roses. This was the first assault as he and I both know how much I have always disliked this particular flower. Secondly, the "box of goodies" that was to be delivered with the flowers was offensively cheap and reminded me of something that would be used to stuff a pinata. Thirdly, I spent fifteen extra dollars for this package to include a bouquet of balloons and he did not receive even one single deflated or inflated balloon.

I would like to continue my relationship with your company and so am asking you kindly to please remedy this issue in the way you best see fit.

Regards,

Liv

This is what I received in return:


Dear Liv


Thank you for sending us a picture of the flowers and chocolates delivered to Giulio. We have forwarded the picture to the outlet and will keep you updated once we hear back from them.


Warm regards,
Flora

The following day, this arrived:

According to Giulio, the above card (mirror imaged as taken by the camera on his laptop) was a "hardly intelligible, hand written piece of toilet paper with: 'we apologize and we hope that you like the bouquet this time', as to suggest that I was, in fact, acting spoiled." 


So, as you might expect, I wrote another letter:

Dear Flora,

Thank you for your efforts following through with this matter. 

Attached are more pictures of what I suppose to be a reflection of your commissioned florist trying to ameliorate. Yesterday they sent a new bouquet, balloons, and an apology letter- something that should theoretically elicit my gratitude. Unfortunately, the replacement bouquet was still not orchids, rather gerbera daisies saturated with baby's breath (another flower I happen to dislike), three miniature inflated balloons and three non-inflated balloons (a far cry from the usual helium ones to which I am accustomed and are featured on your website), and an apology letter addressed to "Guido" instead of Giulio that sassily read "we hope you enjoy the bouquet this time".

I would very much like to keep relying on your company which is why I am once again requesting your attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

Liv


After several days, I received their final attempt to remedy:


Dear Liv


We are extremely sorry as the flower arrangement delivered to Giulio was substituted, the box of goodies was offensive and the balloons were not delivered. The redelivery was also no upto your expectations. While we cannot make up for the lost moment, we have issued you a partial refund of 50% on this order. Credit will reflect in your account within 3-4 business days. In addition to this, we are also offering you a discount of $10 for your next order with us. This discount is valid till 3rd of September 2011. We are committed to you as a valued patron, and we hope that taking these immediate corrective steps will regain your confidence in us.


Warm regards,
Flora




I ended it there as I could understand that this was as far as I would get with them. Through  this, I have arrived at the conclusion that in the space where Italy meets America, the customer is always 50% right, 50% of the time. 

Al Pont de Ferr

Giulio and I stepped out for dinner in the Navigli area of Milan last night. Heeding the advice of a trusted friend, we entered the unassuming Al Pont de Ferre, delicately situated on the canal's bank. Given what we had been told about the aesthetic and gustatory quality of the food, we were both surprised by the unpretentious decor- it struck me as a typical Italian osteria where one could acquire a traditionally tasty bowl of spaghetti, no more; I assure you the ambience was the only thing standard about this place.

First surprise- a mandatory glass of champagne on the house. I loved this touch, made me feel far more important than I am.

We had been sufficiently prepped for this restaurant being an experimental and gastronomic sensation, so when a BAG of water arrived at our table, we grinned childishly at each other, reveling in the unconventionality. Eager to pour, Giulio picked up the bag and aimed it toward my glass. I stopped him, insisting that I first capture this still life with a photo. As I was doing so, the waiter appeared with the bottle of Prosecco we had ordered, and poured me a small glass to taste.

this is not your water, waiter

I sip and smell, agree that I like it (see, it's the best Prosecco I've ever had), he smiles, then places our bottle into the bag of chilled water. Prosecco stays fresh and we successfully avoid a faux pas. Waiter leaves, Giulio and I look at each other with bulging eyes, then erupt into laughter.

prosecco in the bag

We order fix prixe- he from the seven course menu, I from the five course menu. I won't reveal all the private sensorial delights of our experience, but I will say that the food is impeccably presented, explosively delicious, and that the ambience is impressively modest - so much that by the end of our twelfth course and third hour of dining, we were  relaxed enough to drink from the water bag anyway... as Giulio brilliantly puts it- poor table manners are acceptable so long as you know they're poor. Buon appetito.

candied red onion with goat cheese

beef filet and foie-gras with plum

fish, foie gras & citrus mosaic

homemade pea-shaped pasta filled with peas

pan fried fillet with parsley pesto

rabbit kidneys with scallops and Castelmagno cheese

winter chocolate tree with almond mousse & pistacchio

grappa and licorice liqueur, on the house

seasonal changes by way of dessert (stupid-ass video i made)
music by Vivaldi

Al Pont de Ferr
osteria con cucina
55 - Ripa di Porta Ticinese -55
Milano
tel. +39 02.89406277
dalle 12.30 alle 14.15
dalle 20.00 alle 01.00

Phone Home

I realize that what I am about to say will target me for (accurately) being judged a spoiled and self-righteous hag -BUT- I'm going to make this public service announcement anyway:  obtaining a mobile phone in Italy has been the most onerous thing I've ever had to do in my life. EVER.

There, I said it. And you know what? I feel better. This process has been so inimical that not even my closet alcoholism could ameliorate my strife- I've been forced to the pen for catharsis. In the event you're sadistic or planning your own transcontinental mass movement, read on for bureaucratic escapade #237: Getting a mobile phone in Italy.

I moved to Milan on May 21 with a delicious American iphone, gluttonously thinking I could just pop in a new sim card and be on my way toward interpersonal relationship heaven. wrong.

Giules and I began investigating mobile phone contracts within the first few days of my arrival, both online and via several  pilgrimages down the sweaty streets of Corso Buenos Aires. After some pontification, we determined Tre to categorically be the most affordable, and so, made our move. This meant entering the shop, taking a number, and waiting one and a half hours behind a gaggle of salty plebeians desperately salivating for a new touch screen something or other to boost their dirty egos.

In our moment of glory, we were summoned to the helpdesk- a place of inefficiency explained. The blonde, overly tanned clerk was obviously on some sort of sedative or ecstasy or adult libation or cocktail of all the aforementioned such that she could not articulate a cohesive sentence without laughing in a manner that expelled rapid puffs of air through her sinuses (while she compulsively glanced over her left shoulder to see if her silver-chain-adorned male counterpart was watching her have *so* much fun). To her credit, she was still savvy enough to replace my sim card with that of the Italian order, after which she cocked her head to the left, made a pouty face, and defeatedly announced: "non funziona". In her final effort to please, she suggested we unlock the phone at home and reinstall the new sim ourselves; so we exited- graced with a dichotomy of hope and failure.

The following day we studied hard. We watched youtube video after youtube video detailing the steps  necessary to infiltrate the apple jungle, and after nearly twenty four hours of geeking-out (including the enlisted help from select friends and family), the barricades were finally brought down. I nervously opened the sim gate, replaced the AT&T sim with an Italian card, and (prematurely) bounced in my chair as I realized I was no longer receiving the "invalid sim" message.  In my excitement, I immediately tried to place a call.

CALL FAILED.

tried to send a text.

FAIL.

Tried mucking around with general settings, switching airplane mode on and off, powering the phone on and off, reconnecting to itunes, banging my head on the table, etc.

FAIL.

FAIL.

FAIL.

FAIL.

Begrudgingly took phone back to Tre. Explained situation. Paid dude 10 euros to take it along with my computer to his house to "properly" hack into it (yes this business practice is considered kosher here). Returned the following morning to him saying he had FAILED. Dude recommends I try a sim from a different mobile phone provider. Giulio and I walk down road, try Wind. FAIL. Return once again to Tre, are instructed to contact an Apple distributor/repair store. Meanwhile, flustered, we acquire a temporary pay-as-you-go phone so I can "handle" Florence alone. I exit the city. I return to the city. Post Florence, we learn from Apple distributor/repair store that currently, there is no hacking software available to enable an American iPhone 4 to function in Italy.

grande.

Our options at this point were laid out for us: 1) wait in vain for proper hacking software to be designed/released, or 2) sign a new contract and choose from a new phone (200 euro for iphone or zero euro for a samsung smartphone). We deliberate for a few days and eventually decide to bite the bullet and pay the extra soldi for the iphone (and eventually try to sell the American one).

Excited to be getting somewhere, we head back to Tre and eagerly fill out all obligatory contractual paperwork. Giulio must sign on my behalf as I have not yet obtained my codice fiscale (see impending gripey post).  We reach what is meant to be the terminal end of the process- payment.  Giulio pulls out his credit card and the clerk shakes his head, arms crossed.  This particular card is apparently not acceptable. FAIL. Our emotions plummet, then soar as I recall having ordered a credit card with Giulio's name linked to my account. They run the card.

FAIL.

Salesman gets on phone with Tre customer service. Twenty minutes pass before we are informed that American credit cards are not acceptable for cell phone contracts in Italy. FAIL. We inquire into our options and are suggested to get a new credit card OR  sign up using direct withdrawal from a bank account. 

The next day we drive to the countryside to visit Giulio's parents and stop by the local Tre to enroll for automatic withdrawal. Pleased to have so brilliantly navigated traffic such that we could arrive minutes prior to closing, we take one step inside the shop when Giulio looks at me and says:  "I don't know my bank routing number." FAIL.

The next morning, we drive into town and Giulio stops by his bank to collect the appropriate information. We arrive at Tre again, happy that this procedure is imminently over. We complete all appropriate paperwork again and when the clerk asks how we will pay, we say direct withdrawal. He says "ok" and we sigh, relieved to be one step closer. He then looks at Giulio and says "che lavoro fai?" (what do you do for work?) and Giulio stares back at him blankly, as if he were anticipating the consequential destruction brought by his imminent answer. "Niente, sono studente." 

"Mi dispiace" and a head shaking sideways to signify "NO" is all I can understand. We exit. Apparently one is only entitled to automatic withdrawal  IF he has a verifiable income.  FAIL. 

We walk back to the bank. Giulio orders a credit card. We are told we must wait one week.

Credit card arrives. It's been five weeks since we initiated the process. We take a deep breath and enter Tre.  Paperwork is already on file, completed. We nervously hand over Giulio's sparkly new card to the cashier. 


APPROVATO.

Finally, after more than fifteen failed attempts, I am now the proud owner of a white italian iphone and corresponding number. call me. 

white is the new black