Thursday, April 28, 2011


I'm learning Italian. I really am. I listen to this at all hours of the day and night. When I'm working while planning a trip in my head to Italy or in the car dreaming about a life in Italy or cooking Italian and even when I'm dancing.

There's a lot of multi-tasking...and Italy, I imagine, so I need to be ready.

Most times, I feel like life couldn't be more perfect. I have a blazing career, amazing clients, and a tribe that - depending on the the day - makes me feel braver that I really am, sillier than I should be, and loved. Really, really loved. 

But LA is a hard town in which to plant your roots; there are a whole lot of potted plants here! Oh, that sounds a little hippie, doesn't it? I hope you understand what I'm trying to say...

I guess there's a part in all of us that craves home. Some of us have found it, some of us are still searching, and some of us find homes for others on a daily basis! (I so love that part of my job. I'm addicted to it. You should have that experience of helping someone find a home once in your life, you know. You don't have to be a realtor! I've volunteered with Habitat for Humanity and it's the same feeling. Wonderful.)

And at least one of us wants to be that girl in Under the Tuscan Sun.

When I move to Italy, I will wear deliciously delicate frocks every day. That's a promise. Found here and here.