Christmas time is here.
No. I'm most definitely not sitting at my desk writing Christmas cards instead of writing essays (still). No. I'm not alternating Diana Krall's deliciously-smooth-yet-disgusting-in-that-smooth-way jazz Christmas carols with The Chieftains' rowdy Irish Christmas songs and then alternating those with Nicki Minaj's remix of Beyoncè's "Single Ladies." Pfff. No. Naturally not.
My family is the cutest. My signora has been bed-ridden with a terrible cold for the past few days. My babbo (Italian for "dad") has been spending most afternoons camped out on the small sofa next to her bed, watching American movies dubbed for Italian TV. There's a small, brightly-lit tree, a Christmas card hanger on the back of the door, a sweet wreath made of tiny dried berries and sprigs of pine, and we've been eating pandoro and panettone at breakfast for about a week now.
This weekend was spent in Austria and southern Germany -- Wien, Salzburg, and München, more specifically. And believe me, unless my apartment here in Italy is included in the grand scheme of things, those cities are the places to be in the lead up to Christmas. My friend Leslie (from Sarah Lawrence) and I spent most of our time there in the Christmas markets of all three cities, drinking a lot of glühwein, and grinning. We ran into Krampus and St. Nicolaus in Salzburg, then went to the Wiener Staatsoper and the Secession Building in Wien. We ate at Cafe Central and Cafe Hawelka in Wien and encountered a beautiful outdoor book sale in the university district in München, where, incidentally, I found a two-volume set of Schiller's works and Rilke's Das Buch der Bilder, all for under 10 Euro. Yes, we definitely did go to the hallowed halls of Hofbräuhaus and get 1 liter glasses of bier, but not before we went to Schellings Salon, an ooooold, old-school pool hall. There we drank bier (duh) and creepily watched the cutest father-son couple play stately games of straight rail. Lots of (mostly bad) pictures from the trip can be found here.
So, yes, in case you were worried you can now stand reassured: life's continuing to be magical.
Incidentally, I think this Chieftains album ("The Bells of Dublin") is, like, a good half of the reason I wanted to be in Dublin for Christmas. If I hadn't had this album and Paul Simon's "Graceland" when I was growing up, I simply wouldn't have childhood nostalgia today.
Back to the Irish boys and my homey procrastination. I hope you Reedies are getting through and that the rest of you are filled with a little cheer.
My family is the cutest. My signora has been bed-ridden with a terrible cold for the past few days. My babbo (Italian for "dad") has been spending most afternoons camped out on the small sofa next to her bed, watching American movies dubbed for Italian TV. There's a small, brightly-lit tree, a Christmas card hanger on the back of the door, a sweet wreath made of tiny dried berries and sprigs of pine, and we've been eating pandoro and panettone at breakfast for about a week now.
This weekend was spent in Austria and southern Germany -- Wien, Salzburg, and München, more specifically. And believe me, unless my apartment here in Italy is included in the grand scheme of things, those cities are the places to be in the lead up to Christmas. My friend Leslie (from Sarah Lawrence) and I spent most of our time there in the Christmas markets of all three cities, drinking a lot of glühwein, and grinning. We ran into Krampus and St. Nicolaus in Salzburg, then went to the Wiener Staatsoper and the Secession Building in Wien. We ate at Cafe Central and Cafe Hawelka in Wien and encountered a beautiful outdoor book sale in the university district in München, where, incidentally, I found a two-volume set of Schiller's works and Rilke's Das Buch der Bilder, all for under 10 Euro. Yes, we definitely did go to the hallowed halls of Hofbräuhaus and get 1 liter glasses of bier, but not before we went to Schellings Salon, an ooooold, old-school pool hall. There we drank bier (duh) and creepily watched the cutest father-son couple play stately games of straight rail. Lots of (mostly bad) pictures from the trip can be found here.
So, yes, in case you were worried you can now stand reassured: life's continuing to be magical.
Incidentally, I think this Chieftains album ("The Bells of Dublin") is, like, a good half of the reason I wanted to be in Dublin for Christmas. If I hadn't had this album and Paul Simon's "Graceland" when I was growing up, I simply wouldn't have childhood nostalgia today.
Back to the Irish boys and my homey procrastination. I hope you Reedies are getting through and that the rest of you are filled with a little cheer.