Metamorphosis

Read the Signs

For those select members of the Italian public who are not necessarily capable of relying on their inherent good sense, there are visual aids. Here are some of my favorites from the past two weeks:

This one below I found by mistake as I was looking through my photos from our last trip to the mountains. Notice the sign behind Giulio's head: 

a close up:

And finally, what is perhaps my favorite sign of all: "Vietato Fumare". You know, it's really quite rare to see a 'no smoking' sign in Italy. In fact, this is the only 'no smoking' sign I've ever seen in Italy. Anyway I'm glad they nailed this useful suggestion to the wall, particularly given the fact that we're IN THE GYM. bene.

Buon Anno

This is the second new year I've celebrated in Italy. Last year Giulio and I went to a house party followed by a discoteca where I ingenuously spent the evening wishing everyone "a happy new anus" (see "buon ano nuovo"). This year, Giulio and I spent the new year here: 

BUT, being the sad, old-souled bastards we are, we opted to spend the evening at home, actively avoiding the crowds, and accompanied by none other than our effervescent French friend:

oh yea, AND these:

Kinder is the shit-tastic chocolate readily located at the front of every grocery store, next to the cassa. For the holiday season, Kinder gets all kinds of festive by featuring their hollow-holiday-egg-enclosed "SORPRESA".

BEHOLD

Being the greedy and impatient bitch I am, I opened mine first by brutishly smashing it against the table.

  

(at this point, I was still vaguely excited and curious)

though, it didn't take long to understand that this was not in fact the new Lego set I had hoped for, but a piece of red and green plastic TRASH accompanying a merda of a mural that was apparently best appreciated when observed through the rose colored lens. How appropriately figurative.

unfortunately all that appeared was this disappointing, G-rated cartoon of two- dimensional sea life.  

 Giulio's turn (at delicacy).

 his surprise immediately resembled pulled-pork to me, which naturally spun me into a jealous rage. 

alas, he  and I both had to face disappointment again by the anticlimax that was this dysfunctional turd of inedible entertainment. In its defense, at least it was a little festive.

We rang in the new year with our ears stuffed with cotton and the cabin shutters tightly sealed, though it was not a perfect ploy against the drunks or uncivilized children and their sparklers of peril. But we survived, and we sincerely hope you did too. 

Wishing you the best for 2012,

Liv