I quattro primi giorni a Firenze

Ok, I have some time for once! So here's the low down on my first week here.

Day 1:
I arrived in Florence with a group of other Stanfordites the afternoon of Monday, April 2nd, 2007. Glorious! I remember being totally out of it, waiting for the baggage to come around, and I was staring at this clothing ad, and it was pretty much just a blown up picture of boobs (I guess they were hemi-clothed). Benvenuto a Firenze, Molly. We took a cab from this tiny airport (it was HOT, which is a good thing mind you) straight to the Stanford Center.
The center is cool; it's right on the Arno River (very centrally located). Mallory my love was there to meet us when we arrived (she is the official student ambassador, naturally). I met my room mate, Harriet, and she is lovely. Harriet and I took a taxi to the apartment of our host mom, Sandra. She yelled at us from the window (we were carrying our huge suitcases and looking sweaty and confused) "Ragaaaaaze!!!" and let us in.
I really like our host mom. She lives with her son, Jacopo, who is 34. This is (borderline) normal in Florence; most kids stay with their parents because of the price of living of Italy in general (damn the euro!). The apartment is nice; Harriet and I share a room and even get our own bathroom. Even more importantly, I HAVE AN INTERNET CONNECTION. This proves to be both a boon and a curse. Haha, isn't boon a funny word?! Oh, and we also cohabitate with Cippo the cat. He's a spicy little cat, and very lively/sneaky/evil for a 15 year old. He sat on Harriet's bed, staring at her allll night. She's allergic to cats.
The first dinner went pretty well. My Italian gets better everyday! I don't think Sandra's that into cooking (I kind of expected an extravagant 4 course meal, but it was much more handle-able than that).

Day 2:
Breakfast! I learned how to make coffee with the old fashioned coffee pot thingy. The coffee that Sandra has is really good, but gives me the jitters (that in combination with the cookies she feeds us makes me almost hypoglycemic by the time lunch rolls around). Days 2 and 3 were all orientation activities, and kind of exhausting. In the mean time, delicious food happened, of course. We went out that night, too (led by the glorious Malbounds) and it was fun; at the same time, though, I quickly realized how humongous the American population in Florence is.

Day 3:
I met my language partner! His name is Riccardo and he is 24 years old. He was really nice, and not nearly as creepy as I thought he would be! Score! He was also pretty patient with my broken Italian. He is from Rome and is studying (actually, "specializing" in) political science. I am meeting him for un caffe tomorrow in between classes. That night Harriet and I passed out. Meno male, we needed to recharge badly.

Day 4:
Jet lag is wearing off finally. I had my first classe today. "Becoming an Artist in Florence." The art department at Stanford told me it would count as an art history course. Suckers! It's all sketching and painting. Which makes for a pleasantly happy molly. Supplies shall be expensive! Another thing I noticed: it's funny how different my painting teacher is here than the one I had last quarter. Last quarter, he asked us: "How many of you think it's okay to paint with your feelings?" A few enthusiastic communications majors raised their hands. "um, no. You paint with paint [you ignoramus]." This guy, from what I gathered (he spoke only Italian), is very MUCH into feelings. Both theories have their pluses and minuses, but I just thought, "How very italian of him." Should be an amazing course.
Afterwards, a few girls and I went to Pino's panini shop. Best. Sandwich. Ever. Delicious. Enough said.
This afternoon, I decided to finally strike out on my own. I had this intense need to get lost, which is of course the only way to really get to know a place. I successfully crossed the train tracks to get to Badiani, the most delicious gelateria that meg, the girl who stayed with sandra for the last two quarters, recommended for us. I got "buontalenti," a very old Italian recipe flavor. I have no idea what it is, but it was the best effing gelato I've ever tasted. After that, I took about 100 pictures all around the city and successfully lost myself. A beautiful day.
Oh, I also found the Jewish neighborhood. Who knew?

Ciao ciao for now. If you are reading this, I probably miss you.

Update: a homemade cat macro, featuring our very own Cippo.