Everybody says: Italy I love you

Well you'd be surprised by the amount of New Yorkers that want to go to Italy. Maybe because everybody here has Italian ancestors or claims to have them.
I was at a party (a house party. Without knowing whose house was that. Welcome.) and there was this girl begging me to bring her to Italy when I'll go back. But it's something I hear all the time: a guy thought that by saying -I'm from Italy - I was just "showing off". Another one told me that he would move any moment to Italy, cause it's the best place in the world. They have an ideal picture of Italy in their mind, like I had one of New York City. And none of this imaginary places really exists.

On another note: I seriously have to cut on coffee. It's not healthy.
But for those of you who are not concerned about water retention, I feel like giving some Starbucks 101 lessons.
The fact is that it's impossible to really understand what people who work at Starbucks are telling you. But since it's always the same stuff, here are some insights:

1. the very first thing they say is something like: how are you today? or What are you having today? It actually sounds like -owarydy? so in case you don't understand which one of the two options they chose, answer number 2. It's pretty acceptable to just ignore the option number one (cause they're not listening anyways). Option number 2 is what they really care about and it's always better than asking them to repeat.
2. After your order they're gonna ask you: sdl? That means -is that all? You can nod.
3. Then they'll probably ask your name, and then they'll ask you to repeat it. 
4. If they're still holding a marker and a cup and it clearly looks like you didn't move to the next step they're asking you to spell it. 
5. If your coffee is more than just a medium roast or an americano, pay attention, cause that short sound with a question mark at the end is: whip? so they wanna know if you want whip on top of your coffee or not. The answer is yes. Always.
6. Ok, they are showing you the palm of their hand, place there your money/credit card
7. In case it's a card, there's another question for you: credit or debit?
8. You're done. Enjoy your coffee.

Now, if all 8 steps take more than 50 seconds, don't be surprised if they look really annoyed.

Eight million stories out there, and they're naked

It's been a month.
Unbelievable.
It's also unbelievable that I still have to check how to to spell "unbelievable" every time.
Anyway, it's so weird to look back at when this was still a dream. "Hi I'm Chiara and my dream is living in New York City."
When I first told my friends that this was actually going to happen, everybody said the same words:
you deserve it.
I was surprised. Why would they think I deserved it? I remember being flattered,, but also confused, I really wasn't expecting them to think that about me.

Now, as I said, I've been living in New York City for a month. Do I think I deserve this? Maybe.
Do I think I'm the one who can handle it? Yes.
Now, that is shocking, ah? I never said such a thing. Like, ever in my life. But living here is tough. Especially if you are on your own. I don't think you realise it if you just visit the city for some days.

And I'm not just saying it's draining, like Milan is, for example. It's a matter of attitude. For me, pretending to be a badass all day long just to get people listen to me is very difficult. Cause I'm not that person.
I often feel like I'm too kind and vulnerable to get things done here.
And it's true that you sometimes meet very nice people around but the reason why you notice that, is that you feel it's actually out of place.
New York is demanding.
And I'm not complaining about that, I know a lot of people would kill to be in my shoes right now, but I'm telling you, there's no way to be ready for this.
I love this place, every day, no matter what, I wake up with a smile on my face. Every morning I can't wait to get out and breath. And every step I take, I make sure I am feeling it, I try to put all my weight in my legs, down to my feet, touching the sidewalk.

But here is the ugly truth: dreams are not free. 

And they certainly ain't easy. 

"So be careful what you dream, cause it might come true". I heard it a lot here.

But maybe this is what New York is about, you know.

Tv

I think we shouldn't really complain about the fact that the Italian television is populated by an evergreen fauna that is never old enough to retire. Here it's just the same.

Do you rememer Slater from the tv show Bayside school? He is now the host of a music show.

And Brian Austin Green (David in Beverly Hills)? Apart from being the luckiest man on Earth (he married Megan Fox on a day in which she had a very low self esteem) he also plays a leading role in a new tv show: wedding band.

And then there's Dawson. He doesn't own a creek anymore, but his pusher is still the same. You can tell. He is everywhere, man, everywhere. Playing always the same character: dumm, borderline Dawson doesn't have a show anymore, let's make fun of him. That's what he plays. And I feel sorry for him. Most of the times. 

By the way, did anyone else notice how that tv show was just unfortunate for everybody working in it?

 Katie Holmes sold herself to cover Tom Cruise's homosexuality and doesn't have a life anymore. 

Michelle Williams lost her boyfriend and father of her daughter.

Joshua Jackson is getting fat like a turkey for Thanksgiving.

Steps

Since the subway is partially recovering, this morning I was able to get until Wall Street and see the very South of Manhattan.
Firemen are still working very hard to get things back to normal, there's still a lot of water to pump out and there are big power generators everywhere.

So I take a few steps and get to the shore: I am facing the Statue of Liberty, where the Hudson and the East River meet. This place is very quiet, just a few runners around, New York State of Mind is playing in my head. There is a beautiful sun, there are seagulls and there is the Brooklyn Bridge and I am sitting right here:

And everything makes sense.

I can see every step that brought me here. I see the work I put in this and how much it costed me. In terms of eveything.

And I am grateful.

First of all to myself, for making it true.

And then to everybody who kept the sparkle alive, cause sometimes it was just hard.

Because now

Here I am.

The best way possible

Photo Reportage of the day:

The Flatiron Building:

Washington Square Park: 

Me at Washington Square Park feeling very Rachel Berry-ish:

Brunch in Nolita (right now at the first place in my neighborhood ranking):

Little Italy. Probably one of the worst places I've seen in New York. What a shame:

Aaaaaand after stalking every single bar from Little Italy to the West Village, I finally found a place that let me see Juventus-Inter (now I wish I didn't). With also a nice English musician who was singing literally behind my back. Right into my ears. But he had a nice accent so I forgive him. Also because he was very cool about my unfortunate comment. This is the story: I am in this bar with a Swiss girl and a Swiss-Italian guy. The singer asks about famous Swiss singers and they agree on the fact that there's none. So I find nothing better to say than: -They work, they don't sing.

Awkward. 

Awkward.

Still awkward guys, but if we all ignore it, it will just pass.

But then the singer says: -oh, thank you, what are you tryin' to say?

And I just babble something like: - no, I meant it in the best way possible. And turned back to face the TV screen and die a little inside.

Morning sickness and afternoon delight

Great.. I'm. Sick. Should have seen this coming after all the walking during the day and the sweating at night. North Pole in the office and tropical oasis in my room.
Well, I got out of work earlier cause I was going to throw up on my desk.
Let me tell you, if you have nausea this is the worst place to be. On my way to the subway I smelled fried chicken, asian cuisine, kebab and also something vaguely spicy coming from a food truck that I didn't investigate. At that point my stomach was uncomfortably squeezing.
I crawled into my bed and watched Kill Bill.
Then I watched Kill Bill 2.
Then I decided I deserved a reward for being such a good kid.

Somebody please close Urban Outfitters. Standard &Poor is tracking my cash flow and will soon downgrade me to homeless wannabe.

Soup du jour for dinner.

Concrete jungle

Yesterday was quite a mess. Empty streets were already a (desirable) memory. instead we had huge traffic and it was impossible to get on a bus. A guy pushed me to jump on the bus I was trying to get in. I was handling hot coffee that dropped all over my hand and also didn't get on the bus. I guess in times like these the stronger wins. 
The subway was not running, so I had to walk back home for 60 blocks. 
And 60 is not a random high number. From 39th to 99th street is exactly 60 blocks. Which on a normal day is fine, I mean I had done the same on Sunday. But after a day at work? Uff, kill me.

Today was just ok, I got robbed for a salad at lunch as usual and I worked my 8 hours. But on my way back I realised: I'm in New York. 

So I stopped being "ok" and started being awesome instead. (Needless to say, Hymym quote)

Some guys told me I look like Lana del Rey. Which is pretty cool. :)