<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412</id><updated>2011-07-07T20:17:50.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Piccolo Mondo, Gran Cuore</title><subtitle type='html'>I piaceri della vita: nuovi sapori, nuovi luoghi, nuovi amici</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-6692402794361098501</id><published>2010-08-30T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T15:05:05.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now What?</title><content type='html'>I've been home from Middlebury officially for two weeks now, though it feels like much longer.  I came home without any specific plans for the future, just dreams and ideas.  To be honest, I was looking forward to taking some time off after a year of intense stimulation, and the past two weeks have been blessedly relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The job search goes on, at its own sometimes halting pace.  Unlike many of my friends, I did not begin the job search last fall.  I asked myself what the worst result of that choice could be, and I saw myself, essentially, in the position that I am in now: living at home and unemployed.  I decided that such a position was not necessarily an undesirable one.  Being at home has given me the space for various small desires to unbury themselves, although no tidal wave of self-knowledge has washed over me, forcing me to follow one direction over another.  My largest desire has been for the past eighteen months, and remains, to return to Italy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time in July when I began to feel a rushing fear of worthlessness and resentment of what I believed to be my own aimlessness.  For a week or so I felt crushed by the weight of my own undiscovered future, frustrated by the simple and undeniable fact that I was no longer climbing an evident ladder toward some tangible goal, as I have been doing for the course of my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This period of time ended when I read the chapter in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A New Earth&lt;/span&gt; entitled "Your Outer Purpose."  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Outer purpose&lt;/span&gt; is your role in the outside world and is relatively unimportant.  It is to be distinguished from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;inner purpose&lt;/span&gt;, which is your role in the awakening of the universe.  Simply put, it is self-realization, dwelling in the state of perpetual peace that most people seek at some level of their consciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most shocking revelation of the chapter to me was this: your true purpose is whatever you are doing at this moment.  Rather than looking away from what you are doing &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;right now&lt;/span&gt;, look more deeply into it.  I am sitting at my computer typing this post, and so that is my true purpose.  Not forever, but for now.  When I stand from the chair and leave this room, that will be my purpose.   How could it be otherwise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This simple realization released the pressure that I had placed on myself and opened up the space for new possibilities to arise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-6692402794361098501?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/6692402794361098501/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=6692402794361098501' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6692402794361098501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6692402794361098501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2010/08/now-what.html' title='Now What?'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-6823177313017658938</id><published>2009-02-25T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T20:04:29.512-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SaYT2h1YXrI/AAAAAAAABzk/NZ6gKxzASAI/s1600-h/P1040215.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SaYT2h1YXrI/AAAAAAAABzk/NZ6gKxzASAI/s400/P1040215.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Photo taken while walking back from the gym, when I got the idea for the photo-a-day project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I made Liz's delicious recipe for banana bread, which came out mindblowingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a dream about the chick pea soup I ate at the Trattoria di Mario a Firenze.  It made me realize that eating in the U.S. just isn't the same as eating in Italy.  When I first got back, I had very little appetite but thankfully I went to a quite authentic Italian restaurant which was incredible.  However, when I told my host dad over skype, very enthused, that I had just "almost eaten an Italian-style meal," he responded, "Ok.  Did you have appetizer, first course, second course, side dishes, wine, coffee, dessert and fruit?"  "No," I said.  "Alright, then.  You did not eat Italian style.  You know very well what it means to eat Italian-style!"  In the dream there was this explosion of flavor, which is what it's like to eat in Italy.  It's not just that their food is better-prepared with higher-quality ingredients and time-tested family recipes (all of which is true)-- it's that the food actually seems to be quite a different substance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incidentally, there was a bug that just landed on my computer and freaked me out, which reminded me of this one time early on in studying abroad, I was lying in bed reading around 11pm and I heard a thump.  An enormous grasshopper was bumping up against my wall!  I ran downstairs and my host dad came up to kill it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just one of the little things I remember...&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-6823177313017658938?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/6823177313017658938/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=6823177313017658938' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6823177313017658938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6823177313017658938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2009/02/photo-taken-while-walking-back-from-gym.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SaYT2h1YXrI/AAAAAAAABzk/NZ6gKxzASAI/s72-c/P1040215.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-3727550127256048068</id><published>2009-02-24T17:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T17:41:08.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SaShhf4FZYI/AAAAAAAABzc/bcMDSKOrHzQ/s1600-h/P1040204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SaShhf4FZYI/AAAAAAAABzc/bcMDSKOrHzQ/s400/P1040204.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Beth, Chalene, and Elisa&lt;br /&gt;After the Winter Carnival Ball, walking back home in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-3727550127256048068?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/3727550127256048068/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=3727550127256048068' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3727550127256048068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3727550127256048068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2009/02/beth-chalene-and-elisa-after-winter.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SaShhf4FZYI/AAAAAAAABzc/bcMDSKOrHzQ/s72-c/P1040204.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-6427994752456808884</id><published>2009-02-23T19:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T19:30:55.952-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back</title><content type='html'>So I''m back in the U.S. and I'm back at Middlebury.  This is already the third week of the semester, and as is typical here, time chugs along like a snowball gaining size and velocity at the same time, schedule expanding in every direction...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't posted for ages.  I really do want to sum up January and my travels, post some photos, and most of all, write some kind of closing something for the whole experience.  I will do that in the next few days.  For now suffice to say that the experience is not closed, because I carry it with me each day.  There are moments when the immense sadness of what I left behind comes over me, and it could be triggered by anything... for example when a girl with an Italian last name came to pick up her package at the post office last week.  But in those moments, along with the sadness and wet eyes, there is also an appreciation for what I was graced to experience in those five short precious beautiful months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Francesco our yoga teacher told me in our parting exchange that study abroad fills in the spaces that aren't filled by studying in your own culture.  He also told me that after one week in American, I would already have my American head back.  He was right on both counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving the topic of Italy aside for the moment, I want to propose a new purpose for this blog in the coming months.  Because I may not have time to write that much, and because a picture is worth a thousand words, I plan to post one picture every day of life in Middlebury.  It may be representative of how I feel or the day I lived or the whim of a moment.  But I'm captivated by this project because something about it tells me that it will open my eyes to the world around me, the way that taking photos while I was abroad opened my eyes a bit to the beauty of the way the world is composed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allora.  Comincio...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SaNpHDp-aGI/AAAAAAAABy0/toUxiJoQjW0/s1600-h/P1040152.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SaNpHDp-aGI/AAAAAAAABy0/toUxiJoQjW0/s400/P1040152.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306200355933939810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture is a bridge: Chalene and I cooked our first meal together, penne alla carbonara, using a recipe I got from an Italian cooking site, giallozafferano.it.  We americanized it significantly, using whole-wheat pasta and pre-cooked ham cubes, but the Italian idea still made me happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-6427994752456808884?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/6427994752456808884/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=6427994752456808884' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6427994752456808884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6427994752456808884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SaNpHDp-aGI/AAAAAAAABy0/toUxiJoQjW0/s72-c/P1040152.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-8554059636150407656</id><published>2009-01-02T05:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T11:58:33.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Un po' di panettone non fa niente male...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SV_DCAHogXI/AAAAAAAABsA/tK8gnwI3w4Y/s1600-h/P1020783.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 232px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SV_DCAHogXI/AAAAAAAABsA/tK8gnwI3w4Y/s400/P1020783.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287158926715421042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...invece fa bene!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oggi abbiamo mangiato la bistecca fiorentina!  It's really raw and delicious.  Dallas and I came home this morning.  We left Prague yesterday at 1pm, then took a night train from Vienna to Firenze (7:30pm to 7am.)  Instead of buying beds, which we did for the trip out, we bought chairs.  Much better choice.  The beds are like coffins-- 6 in one compartment-- and I did not sleep at all on the way to Vienna.  Last night though we slept well enough, because the chairs slide out flat and our compartment had only two other people in it.  At 11pm we turned off the light and the guy in the cabin said, "Facciamo un letto matrimoniale."  So we slid all the chairs down and slept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we came home and walked up the hill.  We had to wake up Babbo to get into the house because the outside gate was locked... so he made us both big cappuccini and we ate breakast together (panettone di tre marie con marmellata e yogurt!)  Later on this morning we went to an Italian supermarket, Babbo's favorite.  He told us several times that Americans invented supermarkets... but I love Italian supermarkets more.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SV9HHIfqBII/AAAAAAAABr4/cF_9taHH5fc/s1600-h/P1020777.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 172px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SV9HHIfqBII/AAAAAAAABr4/cF_9taHH5fc/s400/P1020777.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287022675421168770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They have some sweet inventions-- for one, you put in a 1 euro deposit to take your cart and get it back when you bring the cart back to its place... this way people don't leave their carts all over the parking lot.  The other invention is a little wand that you use to scan all of your groceries as you put them in your cart.  When you get to the check out, you hand it to the cashier, she reads the price and you pay-- senza attesa!  Not to mention the buona roba che hanno dentro il supermercato.... caspita`!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home, it was already lunch time so I set the table (apparecchiare) and Babbo showed us how to make the bistecca alla fiorentina.  We made a salad and sliced the bread we bought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volevo raccontare le pezzette di saggezza che ci ha raccontato il Babbo:&lt;br /&gt;- he doesn't understand vegetarians (they're half human.)  oh, i have to agree after 4 months in italy!&lt;br /&gt;- voipcheap is the way to go for overseas calling.  wish i had understood when he told me that 4 months ago.&lt;br /&gt;- secondo babbo a me piace mangiare cosi` tanto che basta mangiare e sono contenta.  e` vero!  diceva che e` una bella cosa... d'accordo.  lo scrivo in italiano perche' va bene dice mi piace mangiare, ma in inglese c'e` qualche vergogna sul mangiare.  beh io non l'avro` mai piu`.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For dessert we had torrone and panforte.  Both are italian desserts eaten only in winter.  Panforte is made out of figs and almonds and canditi... it's from Siena.  Torrone is made from hazelnuts and fluffy stuff and yumminess...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This lunch also included 3 different wines: 1) aperitivo white wine, homemade from a former Bandini studentessa who married a Roman.  2) special red wine.  every night we drink vino nobile montepulciano from this season... this bottle was from 2004.  3)  dessert wine... veramente incredibile.  from a small island south of sicilia where all of the clandestini land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;later i will upload photos!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-8554059636150407656?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/8554059636150407656/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=8554059636150407656' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8554059636150407656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8554059636150407656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2009/01/un-po-di-yogurt-non-fa-niente-male.html' title='Un po&apos; di panettone non fa niente male...'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SV_DCAHogXI/AAAAAAAABsA/tK8gnwI3w4Y/s72-c/P1020783.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-3485312625165127656</id><published>2008-12-27T04:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T05:25:29.915-08:00</updated><title type='text'>L'ultimo post di 2008</title><content type='html'>Volevo dire:&lt;br /&gt;Buon anno!!!&lt;br /&gt;Sono grata per la mia 2008...&lt;br /&gt;e auguro a tutti un anno favoloso e misterioso in 2009.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;abracci!&lt;br /&gt;beth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-3485312625165127656?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/3485312625165127656/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=3485312625165127656' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3485312625165127656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3485312625165127656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/12/lultimo-post-di-2008.html' title='L&apos;ultimo post di 2008'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-3371476763691495714</id><published>2008-12-25T10:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T11:02:21.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Livelli di bonta`</title><content type='html'>Come si descrive il cibo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eccellente&lt;br /&gt;Ottimo&lt;br /&gt;Buonissimo&lt;br /&gt;Molto buono&lt;br /&gt;Discreto&lt;br /&gt;Buono&lt;br /&gt;Sufficiente&lt;br /&gt;Mangiabile (Bevibile)&lt;br /&gt;Immangiabile&lt;br /&gt;Velenoso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Menu del Pranzo di Natale:&lt;br /&gt;Salmone, ostriche crude, mushroom pastries with cheese melted on top&lt;br /&gt;Zuppa: ravioli (stelle) in brodo di cappone&lt;br /&gt;Lesso (Cappone)&lt;br /&gt;Gherkins, Funghi, Olivi, Carciofi&lt;br /&gt;Insalata&lt;br /&gt;Tacchino arrosto con dentro i carciofi&lt;br /&gt;DOLCI: frutta secca (mandorle, noci, nocciole), Pandoro, cioccolatini, e la frutta&lt;br /&gt;Fichi con burro e noci&lt;br /&gt;pisolino...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ora si riposa, e si sdraia nella terra, e si digiuna!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buon natale!  Tanti auguri!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-3371476763691495714?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/3371476763691495714/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=3371476763691495714' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3371476763691495714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3371476763691495714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/12/livelli-di-bonta.html' title='Livelli di bonta`'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-4407738416729048433</id><published>2008-12-17T15:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T15:39:01.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Non ci posso credere... oggi e` l'ultimo giorno del semestre!  Aaaayuh.  Wow.&lt;br /&gt;First, new words I learned today!&lt;br /&gt;Caspari, perbacco: expression of positive surprise (thanks babbo)  I think Caspari isn't right... I'll have to check on that.&lt;br /&gt;Ciak!: equivalent to the english bam!  boom!  all of a sudden!  basically a sound effect used for emphasis.&lt;br /&gt;I love learning new words, and over the course of this semester I've noticed that my head seems to have a new-word capacity defined per day.  That is, if you tell me too many new words at a time or in one day, I forget all of them.  But if you tell me one or two a day, I'll remember them and be able to use them.  You learn languages little by little, I think!  This is what all of the Italians said to me at the beginning of the semester... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;piano piano!  Non ti preoccupare!&lt;/span&gt;  Also, now I am learning Arabic (3 words so far) from my host family's son-in-law's brother who just immigrated from Egypt.  I can remember one word per day, or two.  But the other day he told me a bunch, and now I couldn't sound out one from the other.  Of course that could be because he was telling me most of the words as I sat in a zucotto-induced stupor.  What is zuccotto?  It is incredible.  It is mind-blowing.  It is a dessert (comparable to tiramisu, but made with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;panna&lt;/span&gt;--whipped cream-- instead of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mascarpone&lt;/span&gt;.)  It has liquor, coffee, whipped cream, and cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the point.  The semester is over!!!  I still have one exam to take tomorrow, Art History.  But all of my classes are over.  Today I went to my last class, History of Contemporary Italian Cinema.  That was a good class.  At the beginning I was so lost because I didn't know any of the Italian film terms, nor could I understand the professor, nor could I understand the films we watched in class (no subtitles, not even in Italian, and characters speaking in dialect...)  But by the end of the six weeks I was really following her, following the films, and interested.  And sad to see it end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm sad to see this semester end.  Thankfully I will stay in Italy until Jan 31.  And I will make the most of the next six weeks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else is new in my life?  Today I bought a pair of boots... oh I really like them.  I have an indecisiveness problem, and Italian shopkeepers are really helping me to get over it.  In the boot store this very nice man asked me why I didn't want to buy the boots I was trying on.  "Is it the price?"  "Yeah... but also I'm just indecisive," I replied.  Well, he started talking about seizing the moment, taking life's pleasures, and when he got to the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;attimo fuggente &lt;/span&gt;(fleeing moment), I was hooked.  Then he knocked the price down because of my smile!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is the start of a five day adventure.  Day one in Florence, finishing things up at school, lunch at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Trattoria di Mario&lt;/span&gt; to share it with Hilary and Emily, yoga, dinner with Francesco and Natale, then hopefully sharing Plasma with Emily who has never been there.  Friday is the day of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;partenza &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;per Parigi, cioe` &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;we're leaving for 3 days in paris!!  And Tuessday, dec. 23, we'll come home.  Then it will be almost christmas.  I love Christmas.  Florence's streets are decorated with white and yellow lights, and there are even Christmas trees up outside in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;piazze&lt;/span&gt;.  These things thrill me because I think there is less of a Christmas-y sense in the air, and seeing anything Christmas-y just makes me happy.  Yesterday Dallas and I made cookies with Joann, our family's daughter-in-law from New York, and with her kids!  That made me feel the Christmas spirit.  Being in a home, baking, and listening to Christmas carols (and singing them...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-4407738416729048433?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/4407738416729048433/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=4407738416729048433' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/4407738416729048433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/4407738416729048433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/12/non-ci-posso-credere.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-8255363892810496691</id><published>2008-12-13T06:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T06:48:42.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La vita va avanti</title><content type='html'>Ciao!  Today is Santa Lucia's feast day.  Dallas told me this because she woke up earlier than me and found out from Babbo.  In fact, the three of us had a contest to see who could sleep the latest, and I won.  This is not unusual.  I have come to be known as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;la bella addormentata &lt;/span&gt;(sleeping beauty) because the Bandini marvel at how late I can sleep.  In any case, the unusual thing is that Babbo flat-out lost the contest and somehow woke up at 8.15.  Accidenti.  Obviously, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chi dorme non piglia i' pesce.&lt;/span&gt;  Translation: Early bird gets the worm / He who sleeps will not get the fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a relatively packed day.  I met my conversation partner in the morning, then Dallas and I accompanied her conversation partner and his friend to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Trattoria di Mario&lt;/span&gt; to eat &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bistecca alla fiorentina!&lt;/span&gt;  This is the famous Florentine steak, taken from a special kind of cow raised in Tuscany.  It is served very rare (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;al sangue.&lt;/span&gt;)  As Sra. Bandini says, you can see the blood on your plate.  It is very expensive and extremely delicious, as I now know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dallas's conversation partner is also our yoga teacher and he is legitimately one of the nicest people I've ever met.  We talked a bit about the stereotypical American abroad with him.  Sadly, the Americans that one sees here in Florence do not flatter America.  We came to the agreement that most people behave differently outside of their county than in it.  And Americans outside of their country, at least here, seem to cling to each other in groups, shout in English, and generally misbehave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Trattoria di Mario&lt;/span&gt;: It's near San Lorenzo and I definitely want to go back.  The atmosphere is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;familiare&lt;/span&gt;, which means that the staff call you by name, give you attitude if you ask for the steak well-done, there's only one menu posted on the wall, you can watch the chefs (probably all brothers and cousins) as they prepare your food, and you sit where you find a spot, potentially with people you don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday afternoon included our final class of Art History, a visit to the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Accademia&lt;/span&gt;.  I was definitely impressed by the David.  Wow.  Great art just takes you prisoner for a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we had the end-of-semester party at a really fancy hotel with not-so-fancy food.  It was quite fun though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'd like to write more but other tasks are calling out to me.  I just... really love study abroad.  I'm not sure how I'll ever go back to Midd but I won't think about it until I do.  It doesn't matter where I am, just that I am.  More than anything I am just grateful for the experience that I've had here, everyone I have met, everything I have learned, and everything I have EATEN, of course!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Buon natale to everyone, Happy new year and lots of fun! (Italian tv ad)&lt;br /&gt;--Let's Christmas! (Italian store ad)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-8255363892810496691?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/8255363892810496691/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=8255363892810496691' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8255363892810496691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8255363892810496691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/12/la-vita-va-avanti.html' title='La vita va avanti'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-5865043966406428762</id><published>2008-12-07T03:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T08:10:28.292-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/STuyoDLhF2I/AAAAAAAAAWY/nAC4XlhQ8cA/s1600-h/P1010957.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/STuyoDLhF2I/AAAAAAAAAWY/nAC4XlhQ8cA/s400/P1010957.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277007789512791906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me on the Ponte Vecchio when my parents visited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's December!  Florence is filled with lights and Christmas trees.  In the Piazza Santa Croce there is a German Christmas Market and I've already been there three times, scoping it out!  They have strudel, crepes, candy, cookies, german sausage type things, and of course holiday trinkets and gifts.  Everything is overpriced and most of it is delicious...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Sunday, which means that we are going to eat &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;il pranza familiare&lt;/span&gt;, just like every other Italian family!  This morning in the kitchen I saw what we will eat: roasted pheasant with potatoes and rosemary; saltimbocca (skewers of turkey and sage); and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;schiacciata alla fiorentina&lt;/span&gt;, a flat cake with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;panna &lt;/span&gt;(whipped cream...yum...)  I really like this tradition.  Sunday is a day of rest and it is fun to spend it with family... even if I'm not spending it with my family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we went to a new aperitivi place: Plasma, in Piazza Ferrucci.  It's in Oltrarno, really close to Ponte San Niccolo.  We took the scenic route, as we often do, or at least as we often do when Emily isn't around to guide us...  First we got on the D Bus which was going to take us all the way there.  But after ten minutes or so, we felt a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sfizio di camminare &lt;/span&gt;(we wanted to walk.)  So we got out.  But the bus had actually brought us further from Piazza Ferrucci.  So we ended up walking about thirty minutes or so, I don't really keep track anymore.  I asked inside a gelateria and got the face "Piazza Ferrucci?"  The face that means I'm really far away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we arrived.  Pleasant atmosphere, great food, and an amazing drink called "Cinnamon": chocolate, cream, coffee, and cinnamon.  I hope to go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now lunch is over and I'm trying to write my film paper on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Vitelloni.  &lt;/span&gt;Not my favorite film but I'll try to find something to say about it (eight pages worth.)  I can see the sunset from my bedroom window.  It's really pretty but it's so early!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tomorrow is... FESTA!!!  It is the last week of classes and tomorrow we have no classes.  Really it's great because I have work to do... and now I can take my time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-5865043966406428762?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/5865043966406428762/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=5865043966406428762' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/5865043966406428762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/5865043966406428762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-is-me-on-ponte-vecchio-when-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/STuyoDLhF2I/AAAAAAAAAWY/nAC4XlhQ8cA/s72-c/P1010957.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-1260231891416513635</id><published>2008-11-27T15:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T15:23:03.489-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Il giorno di Ringraziamento</title><content type='html'>Happy Thanksgiving!  I haven't written in my blog in so long.  We enjoyed an enormous Thanksgiving feast at Casa Bandini: my parents, my host parents, Dallas, and me.  Shrimp in avocado bowls, frittata with ham, pasta allo scoglio (with fish; lo scoglio is the rock that the sea hits against, apparently), turkey, green beans, and finally a buonissimo panettone riempito da cioccolata.  E poi i cioccolatini!  Era benone.  I played the translator as best I could... fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my parents and I visited il Giardino dei Boboli and the Galleria dei Costumi al Palazzo Pitti.  The garden is huge and beautiful and filled with stray cats.  The costume museum was interesting.  I tried to read the information in English and in Italian so that I could learn some new vocab.  I could have just read it in Italian but I end up skimming over the parts that I don't understand instead of observing them and learning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basta.  I've been in Italy for almost three months!  Wow I can't get enough of Italy.  And Florence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-1260231891416513635?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/1260231891416513635/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=1260231891416513635' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/1260231891416513635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/1260231891416513635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/11/il-giorno-di-ringraziamento.html' title='Il giorno di Ringraziamento'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-6076010178607550151</id><published>2008-11-06T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T15:59:11.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;Cioccolata! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://localhost:3082/8e23cd7d0f49f99c8e472818843b8d65/image2871.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://localhost:3082/8e23cd7d0f49f99c8e472818843b8d65/image2871.jpg?size=400" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://localhost:3082/8e23cd7d0f49f99c8e472818843b8d65/image2872.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://localhost:3082/8e23cd7d0f49f99c8e472818843b8d65/image2872.jpg?size=400" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://localhost:3082/8e23cd7d0f49f99c8e472818843b8d65/image2875.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://localhost:3082/8e23cd7d0f49f99c8e472818843b8d65/image2875.jpg?size=400" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://localhost:3082/8e23cd7d0f49f99c8e472818843b8d65/image2876.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://localhost:3082/8e23cd7d0f49f99c8e472818843b8d65/image2876.jpg?size=400" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;The chocolate festival was really crowded.  There were hundreds of bancherelle like the one above left, from different producers of all different kinds of chocolate: from funky shapes and novelties, to super-organic cruelty-free; from big names like Lindt, KitKat, and Toblerone, to makers I'd never heard of before.  There was chocolate pasta (to be cooked with cream and almonds), chocolate liquor, nuts and berries covered in chocolate, extremely rich hot chocolate, and every flavor, size, and style of chocolate bar imaginable.  I wish I had taken more photos but I was too busy eating and fighting my way to the free samples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-6076010178607550151?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/6076010178607550151/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=6076010178607550151' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6076010178607550151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6076010178607550151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/11/cioccolata-chocolate-festival-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-788889024230947926</id><published>2008-11-06T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T15:42:54.352-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SROA_PE3uXI/AAAAAAAAAGE/-_XnNFS6hJo/s1600-h/P1010586.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SROA_PE3uXI/AAAAAAAAAGE/-_XnNFS6hJo/s400/P1010586.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;Above: Ciao Antella!  On my morning walk to the bus.&lt;br /&gt;Below: a special cappuccino in Arezzo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SROA_df5utI/AAAAAAAAAGM/U46ssK9t6eI/s1600-h/P1010596.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SROA_df5utI/AAAAAAAAAGM/U46ssK9t6eI/s400/P1010596.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-788889024230947926?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/788889024230947926/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=788889024230947926' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/788889024230947926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/788889024230947926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/11/above-ciao-antella-on-my-morning-walk.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SROA_PE3uXI/AAAAAAAAAGE/-_XnNFS6hJo/s72-c/P1010586.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-4490066758688385234</id><published>2008-11-06T05:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T05:13:51.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>più parole</title><content type='html'>ancheggiare: shake your hips&lt;br /&gt;scutolare: shake your mele&lt;br /&gt;amicissimi: very good friends&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-4490066758688385234?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/4490066758688385234/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=4490066758688385234' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/4490066758688385234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/4490066758688385234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/11/pi-parole.html' title='più parole'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-993790343581238683</id><published>2008-11-01T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T15:22:57.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parole del giorno</title><content type='html'>Figliola, figliolo... daughter, son&lt;br /&gt;bagascia...someone making a fool of herself&lt;br /&gt;vischiata...spoiled&lt;br /&gt;dispreggiativo...insulting&lt;br /&gt;le mele: butt cheeks (literally apples): &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Alza le mele!&lt;/span&gt;: get up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many patterns of speech in Italian that just can't be expressed in English.  As Rosa told us during orientation, the culture and the language are tied together and you can't separate them.  And even though it is much easier for me to express myself in English, I'm starting to think in the patterns of Italian.  For example the word &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;invece&lt;/span&gt;.  Literally it means instead, but its uses don't correllate with the uses of instead in English.  Conversationally, you use &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;invece&lt;/span&gt; to distinguish yourself, usually from whom you're speaking to.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Io mangio colazione alle otto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Io invece non mangio mai prima le dieci.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't do that in English that I know of.  Not as elegantly, at least.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-993790343581238683?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/993790343581238683/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=993790343581238683' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/993790343581238683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/993790343581238683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/11/parole-del-giorno.html' title='Parole del giorno'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-2895595837401944628</id><published>2008-10-20T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T14:09:54.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perugia, Roma, Firenze, e Calzedonia</title><content type='html'>So much happens and I don't have time to write!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend we went to Perugia.  I'll post photos eventually.  It was lovely.  As always, the four of us had some interesting traveling experiences.  This time the trip included an untimely torrential rainstorm; enormous pancakes-filled-with-sandwich-meat (called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;piadine&lt;/span&gt;, a Roman specialty) and also my first experience with Italian fast food; a bus strike; a farmhouse hostel in the Umbrian countryside complete with goats, cats, kittens, an Italian girl with a Kansas accent, her large and lovable boyfriend from Kansas, foosball, local wine, nonni, and farm-fresh eggs; an underground city filled with chocolate vendors; the piazze di Perugia filled with chocolate vendors; mobs cramming for free samples; and a chocolate-overdose-induced stupor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend before that we went to Rome.  This trip cannot be summarized really.  A few notable highlights:&lt;br /&gt;Giulotti: fabulous gelato.  I ate fig, banana, cioccolate fondente, pistacchio, and bacio (choco-hazelnut.)  Covered with house-made panna (whipped cream.)&lt;br /&gt;Societe Lucerne: delicious aperitivi buffet.  The travel guide told us we would find effortlessly beautiful people, and we did.  Literally everyone was effortlessly beautiful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's more, but for another time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the days go by I love Italian more and more.  There are so many different aspects of the language and culture to love.  I love the hand gestures.  I love the superlatives.  I love saying "Prego," and "Buona Sera," and "permesso."  I love learning new words!  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Impensabile.  Diffusissimo.  Candelo.  &lt;/span&gt;I like all of the old ladies who ride the bus with me every morning to do their grocery shopping, and I love running through the winding roads in the Tuscan countryside, while tiny cars zoom by at incredible speeds, and I can see the hills falling away draped in olive trees and studded with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;grandi ville&lt;/span&gt; overlooking all of their &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;roba.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like walking through Florence like I know what I'm doing here and I like it when people aren't sure what language to speak to me in.  Today, in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;oviesse&lt;/span&gt;, I took six articles into the fitting room and a security guard stopped me.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Signorina!  Ma quanta roba ce l'hai?"  &lt;/span&gt;"Sei.  Va bene?"  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"No.  La prossima volta, no.  Solo tre.  E porta tutta indietro dopo."  &lt;/span&gt;I later saw him affront an American male wandering through the store with a bottle of beer.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Not in here," &lt;/span&gt;he said.  "All right, I'm walking out, I'm walking," said American male. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Were an American to remain here permanently, one could form a very negative opinion of one's own country based on their behavior abroad.  It almost would make it easier to stay, because you don't see many of the positive aspects of American culture here.  The strange part of moving abroad to me seems to be leaving your country behind and having it move forward without you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, here is a nice Italian commercial.  I guess I like even the non-food ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dRaaSPyRkDw&amp;hl=it&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dRaaSPyRkDw&amp;hl=it&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-2895595837401944628?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/2895595837401944628/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=2895595837401944628' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/2895595837401944628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/2895595837401944628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-much-happens-and-i-dont-have-time-to.html' title='Perugia, Roma, Firenze, e Calzedonia'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-6544097559758469491</id><published>2008-10-15T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T14:02:52.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Like me, the Italians love food.  How do I know?  I can see it on television.  Yes, Americans have our own food advertising.  It consists of "food porn" (showing the food in a close-up, larger-than-life shot, which has been scientifically proven to instill cravings for this food in the viewer.)  It's not elegant.  And from what I remember it emphasizes the social aspects of eating-- a group of buddies enjoying the never-ending nachos at TGI Friday's, for example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Italian food advertising is about pleasure.  See below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xee2tQN-Irc&amp;amp;hl=it&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xee2tQN-Irc&amp;amp;hl=it&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-6544097559758469491?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/6544097559758469491/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=6544097559758469491' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6544097559758469491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/6544097559758469491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/10/like-me-italians-love-food.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-432171708125815965</id><published>2008-10-15T13:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T14:03:29.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-432171708125815965?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/432171708125815965/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=432171708125815965' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/432171708125815965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/432171708125815965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-1188345329900313859</id><published>2008-10-08T13:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T13:02:28.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oggi</title><content type='html'>Things that happened today:&lt;br /&gt;1.  I overslept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I ate breakfast very quickly. (caffe latte, apple con yogurt &lt;em&gt;al frutti di bosco&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  My host mom drove Dalia and me to our bus stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Since we arrived early, I walked across the street to L'Angolo del Caffe`.  This shop has an amazing array of products after my own heart, including one million different varieties of chocolate, several types of cookies including &lt;em&gt;cantucci &lt;/em&gt;(these Tuscan cookies are similar in shape to what Americans call biscotti, that is: crunchy and designed for dipping.  &lt;em&gt;Cantucci&lt;/em&gt; are meant for dipping in vinsanto [sweet dessert wine], &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;coffee, Italians assure you, although they go well with coffee too.  I'd even eat them dry, but Italians won't.  You can get them in all kinds of different &lt;em&gt;gusti&lt;/em&gt;, usually almond but also chocolate, pistacchio, and cherry.)  Last night, Babbo and I walked in to buy 2 chocolate bars (one dark, one dark with black licorish/ &lt;em&gt;liquirizia &lt;/em&gt;) and he introduced me to the family that owns this shop.  Babbo is a &lt;em&gt;vecchio cliente&lt;/em&gt; and told me that I will be treated well when I go there.  He suggested a project in which eventually, I will taste every single chocolate in the shop and decide on the best one.  One per day.  So this morning I bought 2 Fiats.  &lt;em&gt;Cioccolate fondente ripiena di crema di Fiat!&lt;/em&gt; In the shape of a Fiat.  &lt;em&gt;Crema di Fiat&lt;/em&gt;, is, SURPRISE! fluffly chocolate-hazelnut cream.  &lt;em&gt;Nocciole &lt;/em&gt;are omnipresent in Italian &lt;em&gt;dolci.&lt;/em&gt;  Dalia and I ate our Fiats during the break between classes today.  I'm not sure if any of the other chocolates can top this one, but I'm willing to find out.  The &lt;em&gt;signore&lt;/em&gt; also gave me a freebie... perhaps it will be tomorrow's choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  After school, Dalia and I bought some &lt;em&gt;panforte&lt;/em&gt;, which we have ogled in shop windows for one month and decided to finally sample today.  We bought it in a bar at Piazza San Marco.  Like many other Italians, the shopkeeper complimented us on our Italian.  &lt;em&gt;Come mai parlate Italiano cosi bene?  Siete veramente bravissime!&lt;/em&gt;  They're always very happy to hear Italian spoken by foreigners, and to converse with us in Italian.  People who work in the service business in Florence (hotels, bars, shops) probably spend most of their time speaking English.  They're always interested to find out why we speak Italian, and what we're doing here.  It's been fun to chat with random Italians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I updated my blog, which needs updating!  See assorted pictures below, in chronological order, with brief captions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il Tramonto del Sole, maybe one month ago:&lt;br /&gt;in the midst of our uphill trek from bus-stop to home.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SO0RZCieMCI/AAAAAAAAAFE/wXxBcKlu3c8/s1600-h/P1010316.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; clear: both; float: left;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SO0RZCieMCI/AAAAAAAAAFE/wXxBcKlu3c8/s320/P1010316.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SO0RZY7mZ2I/AAAAAAAAAFM/hnZbUMyvaqg/s1600-h/P1010322.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; clear: both; float: left;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SO0RZY7mZ2I/AAAAAAAAAFM/hnZbUMyvaqg/s320/P1010322.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Italians don't understand why Americans don't eat rabbit.  I've eaten it here and enjoyed it.  Still I was a bit taken aback when I saw these adorable bunnies on jars of rabbit-flavored baby food.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SO0RZWFZsdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/WOrlZnd5-ug/s1600-h/P1010329.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; clear: both; float: left;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SO0RZWFZsdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/WOrlZnd5-ug/s320/P1010329.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is at the wine festival nei Chianti.  I bought a class and could sample as many different types of Chianti as I wanted.  &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SO0RZfovDGI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Qc_ci7Qci_4/s1600-h/P1010333.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; clear: both; float: left;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SO0RZfovDGI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Qc_ci7Qci_4/s320/P1010333.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  More pictures of this spectacular event in an upcoming post.&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-1188345329900313859?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/1188345329900313859/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=1188345329900313859' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/1188345329900313859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/1188345329900313859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/10/oggi.html' title='Oggi'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SO0RZCieMCI/AAAAAAAAAFE/wXxBcKlu3c8/s72-c/P1010316.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-4771646113435042407</id><published>2008-10-07T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T13:50:51.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current favorite Italian phrases/words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma non e` vero! (It's not true!)&lt;br /&gt;Dondolare (the way that young people dance in clubs, bouncing around)&lt;br /&gt;Ho da fare.  (I've got some stuff to do.)&lt;br /&gt;L'hai fatto apposto! (You did it on purpose!)&lt;br /&gt;Dammi cinque!  (High five!)&lt;br /&gt;Noi siamo gran mangiatori di biscotti.  (We're great cookie-eaters.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learn a lot of new words, but then I forget them.  Usually it takes a lot of repetition to remember it, but listening to my Italian family speak helps a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-4771646113435042407?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/4771646113435042407/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=4771646113435042407' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/4771646113435042407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/4771646113435042407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/10/current-favorite-italian-phraseswords.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-3702104137553121764</id><published>2008-09-23T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T13:10:16.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi dispiace per questo pausa lunga...</title><content type='html'>Poverino blog!  I haven't posted anything in a while, though I've had much to post.  So I'll start as far back as I can remember, and maybe I won't write everything I want to tonight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, our host family took Dalia/Dallas and me to eat &lt;em&gt;schiacciata&lt;/em&gt; up in the hills at a place renowned for it.  &lt;em&gt;Schiacciata&lt;/em&gt; is a type of bread typical to Tuscany... it is flat and salty, usually baked in a large pancake-shaped loaf.  Tuscans eat it as a sandwich with mortadello or prosciutto and cheese, or as a dessert with grapes baked into it.  At a bar you can select a giant (loaf-sized) pre-made schiacciata and have a human-sized piece cut off for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a Sunday night and we ate outside at picnic tables, surrounded by a tough-looking older couple, a man with his dog (too close for my personal comfort), and a huge group of teenagers.  This place is so popular that you have to call ahead.  While Nonna waited in line for ours, we took a walk with Babbo around the area, and saw the house he lived in as a child. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SNlNIxANEwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/llVVUos0hDo/s1600-h/P1010124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SNlNIxANEwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/llVVUos0hDo/s400/P1010124.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't think this is it, but I liked their plants.  In general I like the domestic Italian gardens I've seen so far-- like this one, they have many small pots, usually filled with greenery or succulents.  Italians grow hydrangeas in pots.  I don't know why.  Windowboxes are also popular, and when there is an apartment building with many levels and balconies, almost every balcony has planted windowboxes overflowing.  On the side of the road when we walk to the bus, there are giant bushes of rosemary, lavender, and lemon verbena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the bus... we spend a lot of time there.  Everything depends on when you go.  In rush hour, it can take an hour... during the lunch hour, it takes 35 minutes.  Without fail, bus time is entertaining, even though it is often uncomfortable as well.  Too hot, too close, too much b.o., bad driving, having to stand for an hour.  Yet as a foreigner, I enjoy observing the Italians on the bus.  Yes, they are mostly all well-dressed, from the teenagers going to school to the older women in non-orthopedic shoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SNlNJe7d9RI/AAAAAAAAAEs/fE0nkeQZcjs/s1600-h/P1010141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SNlNJe7d9RI/AAAAAAAAAEs/fE0nkeQZcjs/s400/P1010141.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Usually we walk to and from the bus stop, but one day we encountered Babbo in his motorino and he brought us home.   Apparently most Italians receive a motorino on their 14th birthday.  They are a popular approach to the narrow, winding Tuscan streets&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SNlNJkdNjnI/AAAAAAAAAE0/ZA8sOQF7xBM/s1600-h/P1010150.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  and heavy traffic-- the motorini scoot around cars, zoom past buses, and easily find parking by the side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.  Now the story of our &lt;em&gt;viaggio alla spiaggia.  &lt;/em&gt;A week ago four girls decided to travel to Cinque Terre to swim.  It was a learning experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SNlNJ3GKuqI/AAAAAAAAAE8/HbytAOFz0Sk/s1600-h/P1010153.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SNlNJ3GKuqI/AAAAAAAAAE8/HbytAOFz0Sk/s400/P1010153.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  This is the chic seaside town of Portovenere.  It is not, in fact, one of the Cinque Terre (five tiny towns), but is nearby and worth seeing, according to Nonna.  Our experience in Portovenere was regretfully short-- "It was Ciao and Ciao," as Dalia said.  We expected to find a room in a quaint inn or bed and breakfast, of which we were told there would be many, with many rooms available, it being September, not the rush-season of August.  Yet there is apparently a September off-season backlash, and there are only 4 inns in Portovenere, and they were all full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the next segment, I'll discuss the other 48 hours of the &lt;em&gt;viaggio,&lt;/em&gt; plus many other intriguing tidbits of personal experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A presto (speriamo.)&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-3702104137553121764?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/3702104137553121764/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=3702104137553121764' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3702104137553121764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3702104137553121764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/09/mi-dispiace-per-questo-pausa-lunga.html' title='Mi dispiace per questo pausa lunga...'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SNlNIxANEwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/llVVUos0hDo/s72-c/P1010124.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-7181836816075072329</id><published>2008-09-09T12:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T13:32:40.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The photos in the below posts are from a walk near the area of our house in Antella. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow!  (Italians use this word too because there isn't really an equivalent Italian expression.)  I have been here in Florence for one week exactly.  I feel like it's been forever...In my mind, it's been at least a month. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each day my world here expands a little bit, I learn a little more, try something new, and explore a different place.  It's almost impossible to describe my experience.  I think my favorite parts so far have been the conversations with random Italians on the bus or in stores or on the street, when I feel happily surprised that they understand me (even when we are speaking in the simplest terms.)  Italians that I have turned to for help have been extremely polite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to do a lot of people-watching on our bus rides-- about 30 minutes each way from Antella to Florence.  And eavesdropping... although I can't always capeesh what's being said, I'm still crazy about it all being Italian.  Last summer I heard Italian spoken a few times in a crowd and I tried so hard to understand...Like Elizabeth Gilbert says in&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Eat, Pray, Love&lt;/span&gt;, Italy seems like an unimaginable paradise for those who love to hear Italian. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day really is full of ups and downs, as all travellers' days are, I suppose.  There are challenges everywhere, and unexpected loveliness everywhere as well.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course one of my favorite parts of the day is trying new Italian food that my host mom, who I will call Nonna because that really is who she is, a wonderful Nonna, prepares.  Tonight we ate panzanella: it's a summer salad with tomatoes, cucumbers, bread, basil, and vinegar.  Nonna told me that you should never cut basil with a knife because it changes the flavor-- instead she rips it up with her fingers.  For secondi piatti we had salad and calimari alla Romana (fried.)   Che buoni!  And after dinner, we tasted preserved cherries (ciligie) grown in the garden behind the house.  Nonna e Babbo put them in a big jar with sugar and let them sit in the sun (they couldn't agree... was it for 10 days or a few months?)  They taste amazing.  After sitting in the sun, they shrink down to the size of chickpeas and most of the liquid leaves them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later.... ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-7181836816075072329?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/7181836816075072329/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=7181836816075072329' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/7181836816075072329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/7181836816075072329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/09/photos-in-below-posts-are-from-walk.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-325940248785450659</id><published>2008-09-07T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:18:43.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Benvenuti alle colline toscane</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRFMdlyi3I/AAAAAAAAAEE/jhStK8hlrwg/s1600-h/P1010078.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRFMdlyi3I/AAAAAAAAAEE/jhStK8hlrwg/s400/P1010078.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRFMmCA_qI/AAAAAAAAAEM/8xmrjo3gZoI/s1600-h/P1010092.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRFMmCA_qI/AAAAAAAAAEM/8xmrjo3gZoI/s400/P1010092.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRFMn2AgNI/AAAAAAAAAEU/7pLJkThPQmM/s1600-h/P1010093.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRFMn2AgNI/AAAAAAAAAEU/7pLJkThPQmM/s400/P1010093.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRFMzpAtOI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ebo3YY6D5Qw/s1600-h/P1010096.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRFMzpAtOI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ebo3YY6D5Qw/s400/P1010096.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-325940248785450659?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/325940248785450659/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=325940248785450659' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/325940248785450659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/325940248785450659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/09/benvenuti-alle-colline-toscane.html' title='Benvenuti alle colline toscane'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRFMdlyi3I/AAAAAAAAAEE/jhStK8hlrwg/s72-c/P1010078.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-8666815951010348569</id><published>2008-09-07T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:16:49.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREv2sWmmI/AAAAAAAAADk/smvj2llE2xg/s1600-h/P1010078.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREv2sWmmI/AAAAAAAAADk/smvj2llE2xg/s160/P1010078.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREwI_CIeI/AAAAAAAAADs/h01uSDpWBZw/s1600-h/P1010084.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREwI_CIeI/AAAAAAAAADs/h01uSDpWBZw/s160/P1010084.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREwX94TzI/AAAAAAAAAD0/N3BMeBy8-_U/s1600-h/P1010088.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREwX94TzI/AAAAAAAAAD0/N3BMeBy8-_U/s160/P1010088.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREweHYhUI/AAAAAAAAAD8/wLOsmF6n8KQ/s1600-h/P1010089.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREweHYhUI/AAAAAAAAAD8/wLOsmF6n8KQ/s160/P1010089.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-8666815951010348569?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/8666815951010348569/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=8666815951010348569' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8666815951010348569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8666815951010348569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post_3753.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREv2sWmmI/AAAAAAAAADk/smvj2llE2xg/s72-c/P1010078.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-3304354709158557643</id><published>2008-09-07T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:14:01.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREF7hp6JI/AAAAAAAAADE/ExJagCXEkM4/s1600-h/P1010066.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREF7hp6JI/AAAAAAAAADE/ExJagCXEkM4/s160/P1010066.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREF_R-foI/AAAAAAAAADM/4KHaQxxOk-s/s1600-h/P1010067.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREF_R-foI/AAAAAAAAADM/4KHaQxxOk-s/s160/P1010067.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREGIWsvFI/AAAAAAAAADU/zsh9BlzdMc8/s1600-h/P1010068.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREGIWsvFI/AAAAAAAAADU/zsh9BlzdMc8/s160/P1010068.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREGCWIETI/AAAAAAAAADc/EMTRcBwrxik/s1600-h/P1010074.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREGCWIETI/AAAAAAAAADc/EMTRcBwrxik/s160/P1010074.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-3304354709158557643?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/3304354709158557643/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=3304354709158557643' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3304354709158557643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/3304354709158557643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post_07.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMREF7hp6JI/AAAAAAAAADE/ExJagCXEkM4/s72-c/P1010066.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-5690479844411214668</id><published>2008-09-07T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:12:18.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDr730pYI/AAAAAAAAACk/2HTSZxu5GkQ/s1600-h/P1010055.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDr730pYI/AAAAAAAAACk/2HTSZxu5GkQ/s160/P1010055.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDsLAVk1I/AAAAAAAAACs/IL56YKKjcJk/s1600-h/P1010057.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDsLAVk1I/AAAAAAAAACs/IL56YKKjcJk/s160/P1010057.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDsTz1YAI/AAAAAAAAAC0/O9vzMR7GhJ0/s1600-h/P1010059.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDsTz1YAI/AAAAAAAAAC0/O9vzMR7GhJ0/s160/P1010059.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDsVd_IQI/AAAAAAAAAC8/BuCvN6f4GuE/s1600-h/P1010062.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDsVd_IQI/AAAAAAAAAC8/BuCvN6f4GuE/s160/P1010062.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-5690479844411214668?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/5690479844411214668/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=5690479844411214668' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/5690479844411214668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/5690479844411214668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDr730pYI/AAAAAAAAACk/2HTSZxu5GkQ/s72-c/P1010055.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-2789104528666994196</id><published>2008-09-07T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:09:42.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Benvenuta alle Colline Toscane</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDErlIntI/AAAAAAAAACE/Txi4bJ3fUws/s1600-h/P1010037.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDErlIntI/AAAAAAAAACE/Txi4bJ3fUws/s160/P1010037.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDE2pIIhI/AAAAAAAAACM/gPJxgGAtVv4/s1600-h/P1010040.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDE2pIIhI/AAAAAAAAACM/gPJxgGAtVv4/s160/P1010040.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDFJnmLVI/AAAAAAAAACU/yrVa09ZhV4I/s1600-h/P1010042.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDFJnmLVI/AAAAAAAAACU/yrVa09ZhV4I/s160/P1010042.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDFRvMmGI/AAAAAAAAACc/pjY5HnFpPTc/s1600-h/P1010051.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDFRvMmGI/AAAAAAAAACc/pjY5HnFpPTc/s160/P1010051.JPG' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-2789104528666994196?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/2789104528666994196/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=2789104528666994196' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/2789104528666994196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/2789104528666994196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/09/benvenuta-alle-colline-toscane.html' title='Benvenuta alle Colline Toscane'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMRDErlIntI/AAAAAAAAACE/Txi4bJ3fUws/s72-c/P1010037.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-8067295861798800829</id><published>2008-09-06T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T13:39:02.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cbconnoll%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;     &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Today our high-speedy wireless internet system is mysteriously not working, so I will post this when it comes back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Having wireless internet at home really minimizes the sense of being in a foreign country and of separation from home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I’ve been checking facebook, using my e-mail, and reading nyt.com (mostly election-related articles) just like I do at home and at Middlebury.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;On the way to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: georgia;" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Newark&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; airport I saw a few American flags waving and mentally bid them good-bye, feeling a sense of quasi-guilt for leaving my country in its time of crisis and choice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But I’m still going to vote and I’m determined to stay informed, via internet or otherwise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Both of my Alitalia flights offered free newspapers before boarding; both curious and hoping to seem like a true Italian, I took one for each flight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;On my 35-minute connection from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: georgia;" st="on"&gt;Rome&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: georgia;" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Florence&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;, I read a truly comical article in La Repubblica, an Italian national newspaper, shocking me with the revelation that Sarah Palin’s 17-year-old is pregnant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The article had a distinctly irreverent, Italian take on the matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It asserted that Palin got what she deserved for trotting out her family into the public eye to improve her own image, and most memorably, it ridiculed her for the names of her children: “No Christian names for this extremely Christian family.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Apparently, Track was conceived at a running track, “it would be interesting to know how,” the article said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;When the internet is back I’ll try to get a link up.   &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eccola&lt;/span&gt;: http://www.repubblica.it/2008/08/sezioni/esteri/verso-elezioni-usa/figlia-palin/figlia-palin.html?ref=search.  Sorry that my tecno-skills don't allow me to cleverly incode it into a word like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;this.  &lt;/span&gt;Comunque&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;maybe one day.  Actually, I just read the article at that link and it doesn't seem like the same article to me.  O via.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p face="georgia" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p face="georgia" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;For lunch today we had tripe.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Host mom offered it to me along with giving me a cheeseburger (without buns) as an insurance policy of sorts because few Americans apparently like tripe.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It looked like octopus to me, or squid, and I love seafood, so I went for it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Really, with the sauce and a bit of fresh-grated parmesan, it could have been anything—host mom prepares all of her food with sauces and intense flavors.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;About half-way through I asked what animal it comes from.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Manza,” host dad said.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Cow.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Really?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;I put my fork down and started on the hamburger.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m kind of glad the internet is down—I think I need to finish digesting before I discover what tripe truly is.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dallas and I now are off to explore the local mall!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-8067295861798800829?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/8067295861798800829/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=8067295861798800829' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8067295861798800829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8067295861798800829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/09/normal-0-false-false-false.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-956300935800583344</id><published>2008-09-04T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T11:08:01.314-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrivata a Firenze!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;I am here in Florence!  Actually, the house I live in is a bit outside of the city, in a town called Antella.  The past few days have been slow and lovely: unpacking, resting, seeing Antella and Florence (only by car so far), and getting to know my host parents, their granddaughter, and their grey cat, Candy.&lt;br /&gt;Today Dalia and I took three walks (passeggiate).  The first was short, a 30-minute circle around the neighborhood where we live.  The second, a bit longer: we walked down the long hill into the town center of Antella to see an open-air market.  And then, after lunch, we thought we had room for one more.  We left around 5pm and walked on and on through the gorgeous hills and narrow streets that fell out before us.  Finally, we arrived at what we thought was the end of the map our host mom had drawn for us.  We continued, thinking that the route would circle around, but eventually we asked a kind passerby: man, wife, and dog, how we could return to Antella from here.  He was somewhat shocked.  "Antella?  No, no!"  He said.  "Should we turn around and go back?" I asked in Italian, pointing the direction from which we'd come.  "No," he said again emphatically, incredulous.  Apparently we'd already arrived at the next town, Grassino.  He told us to take the bus, pointing in the direction of Grassino.  "Walking, walking.  Walking."  We continued in the same direction, ever onward to Grassino.  It occurred to me that Dalia and I certainly know more Italian than this man knew of English-- it would have been much easier for us to communicate if he had simply spoken Italian.  A bit ironic!  In any case, we arrived at Grassino in a few moments and called our host family from il mio telefonino, which worked, grazie Dio!  He kindly drove to pick us up and showed us where we'd gone wrong (quite early in the walk, it turned out.) &lt;br /&gt;I saw some beautiful views on the final walk, but I haven't uploaded those pictures to my computer yet, so they will appear in my very next post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente:  Il Cibo&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited about the food... So I will record the meals that I can remember so far.  My host mother, is of course a fabulous cook who prepares multi-course meals for lunch and dinner.  Today, at lunch we ate coniglio (rabbit) and magnificent farfalle pasta. &lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, dinner was a beautiful risotto followed by broccoli with tomatoes and fried mozzarella and ham sandwiches (they have a special Italian name that I forgot.)&lt;br /&gt;On my first day here, we had a delicious lunch of tomatoes with a bit of mozzarella and basil, followed by roasted chicken and arugula salad.  For dinner, una torta (eggs cooked with linguini), a type of fried meat (I'm embarrassed to admit, I was too tired and too unable to understand Italian at that point to ask what it actually was), and something else I've forgotten too.  Darn.  I'll add it in when I remember.  There was an intriguing Tuscan grape dessert (difficult to describe...)&lt;br /&gt;After each meal we eat fresh fruit, some of it picked from the garden of fruit trees: fresh red and white figs and apples, along with nectarines and yellow plums (susine) and darker plums (prugni.)&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention breakfast: the most delicious yogurt, with cereal and toast with my host babbo's marmalata (di arancie-- oranges and di susine.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allora.  I see that the moon has risen, as I sit here in front of my window, and we have not yet eaten dinner.  It will probably happen soon.  So I must leave.  Below are a few of my photos from the first two passeggiate today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao, a presto!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAXOOJziqI/AAAAAAAAABc/KTpi6XqmQqA/s1600-h/P1010011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAXOOJziqI/AAAAAAAAABc/KTpi6XqmQqA/s320/P1010011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view from the window in my room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAYFAAtapI/AAAAAAAAABk/hkbOPSa_W3k/s1600-h/P1010012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAYFAAtapI/AAAAAAAAABk/hkbOPSa_W3k/s320/P1010012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another view from my window&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a hole in the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAZfyMNRZI/AAAAAAAAABs/xrnkQvKJT2M/s1600-h/P1010017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAZfyMNRZI/AAAAAAAAABs/xrnkQvKJT2M/s320/P1010017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAZf-YgzcI/AAAAAAAAAB0/-0PagH8OVcw/s1600-h/P1010018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAZf-YgzcI/AAAAAAAAAB0/-0PagH8OVcw/s320/P1010018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;La Dalia:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAZpzF_9OI/AAAAAAAAAB8/dvW5_lJrlgM/s1600-h/P1010016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAZpzF_9OI/AAAAAAAAAB8/dvW5_lJrlgM/s320/P1010016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-956300935800583344?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/956300935800583344/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=956300935800583344' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/956300935800583344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/956300935800583344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/09/arrivata-firenze.html' title='Arrivata a Firenze!'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SMAXOOJziqI/AAAAAAAAABc/KTpi6XqmQqA/s72-c/P1010011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-8745214729624137277</id><published>2008-08-29T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T19:42:06.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SLizJxsFidI/AAAAAAAAABU/kDfojplt5Pk/s1600-h/DSCN3224.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SLizJxsFidI/AAAAAAAAABU/kDfojplt5Pk/s160/DSCN3224.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a test as I learn how to upload photos.&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edited: I took this photo in Jackson, WY, near the Mormon barns.  I'll upload many more pictures later on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-8745214729624137277?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/8745214729624137277/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=8745214729624137277' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8745214729624137277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8745214729624137277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-is-test-as-i-learn-how-to-upload.html' title=''/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SLizJxsFidI/AAAAAAAAABU/kDfojplt5Pk/s72-c/DSCN3224.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2782155732543390412.post-8246492459242874306</id><published>2008-08-28T05:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T10:33:55.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Buona Mattina!</title><content type='html'>Hello!  Today is Thursday morning, August 28.  On Monday, I will leave for Florence to study abroad for the fall semester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have created this blog to record my trip for my own enjoyment and for those who want to stay in touch with me.  I hope you'll find it interesting, creative, and worth a few visits!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the question we all ask ourselves in the last week of August:  Where did the summer go?  It went too fast, we all agree.   Whether you were trapped in an office, or working outside every day, or just lazing around deciding how to best pass the time--as the last days of August trickle away, there's this sense of disbelief, incredulity.  I really enjoyed my summer.  In fact, it was exactly what I needed and wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this final week, I've been packing, saying some good-byes, and taking care of last-minute arrangements.  There's so much to think of and prepare for and I know I'm not going to remember everything...but that's just part of the adventure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write again soon, maybe not until I'm in Florence.  To close this post, I want to share the books and songs I loved this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Books&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fieldwork&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; by Mischa Berlinski&lt;/span&gt;:  I will recommend this book to everyone I see regardless of their literary tastes until I hit my next favorite.  In other words, this is the best book I've read in a long, long time.  I'm always searching for a novel as good as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Great Gatsby&lt;/span&gt; and this one has some Gatsby-esque elements.  There are even moments reminiscent of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/span&gt;, my other all-time favorite.  Basically, whether you are interested in living abroad, anthropology, journalism, murder mysteries, Christian missionary life, or a fabulous store, or if you don't much care about any of that, you should give &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fieldwork&lt;/span&gt; a try.  The writing is quality, and other than a few tedious mistakes with chronology, the intricate plot is well-thought-out and satisfying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Girls Like Us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; by Sheila Weller.  &lt;/span&gt;I've never been one for casual non-fiction reading until I found this book at the library.  Its bright orange cover grabbed me with its three portraits: Joni Mitchell, Carole King, and Carly Simon as young women.   I've listened to King and Simon more times than I can recall in the past three years or so.  In any case this three-person biography is fascinating and the author is a great social historian who ties together the progressing history of women, of popular music trends, and of three lives with grace.  Yes, I think she could have used a better editor, as she refers to 'characters' in the lives of the women before she's properly introduced them and she goes into sometimes-excessive details, which often but not always illuminate some aspect of the story.  But there is a lot to learn from this massive book... for example, I didn't know that Carole King was a prolific songwriter before she was a singer-- only seventeen when she got pregnant, dropped out of college, and married her college sweetheart (Gerry Goffin.)  The two of them both worked day jobs to support themselves and their daughter while writing songs together almost every night.  Their first memorable hit, "Will You Love Me Tomorrow?" is one of my favorites and Carole was only about 18 when it was recorded by the Shirelles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I will post the songs later (and some poems too.)  This post is long enough already!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2782155732543390412-8246492459242874306?l=elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/feeds/8246492459242874306/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2782155732543390412&amp;postID=8246492459242874306' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8246492459242874306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2782155732543390412/posts/default/8246492459242874306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabetta-erin.blogspot.com/2008/08/buona-mattina.html' title='Buona Mattina!'/><author><name>Beth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03028668292682195772</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q9MEiz5XBQs/SVPaotKUm6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/SFHSPhcbWDM/S220/P1000217.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
