death and chocolate

I'm enjoying school a lot, which may not shock you. The class is exactly the right level for me, very challenging but I don't get lost. In my class are four women and a one man: Maria (Spanish), Maya (Israeli), Ingrid (German), Vincenzo (New Yorkian), and Patricia (also American, a sculptor/painter who received the prestigious Rome Prize from the American Academy here and is living here for a year to practice her art - very cool, I want to see her studio later since that's a scene in my script). Yesterday we were paired up and had to describe our ideal man. Vincenzo was my partner; his ideal man and mine are fairly similar, but probably with one big difference. After that we did a roleplaying exercise where I had to be a daughter trying to explain to her father why she wants to marry a wonderful but poor young man who hasn't yet finished university. I thought this was good practice. For, you know, my Italian.

Yesterday after class it was raining, like usual it seems (thank you, Heidi, for making me get waterproof boots), so Yvette and I decided to slack off. We picked up a newspaper to get movie times and went back to our room. She took a nap and I translated an article from the paper ("Modella-attrice Ana Nicole: misterioso morte in Florida!"). That's our room, our building, and our room key.

Then we walked to a theater in the Piazza Barberini to see "La Ricerca di Felicità" ("Pursuit of Happiness" dubbed in Italian). It was a good pick because even though I'm terrible at Italian comprehension, I had read the script already. I think some of Will Smith's humor was lost but I was surprised at how emotional it was anyway. On the way home we stopped for some candy (Mars Delight... yum) at a corner store and the guy behind the counter gave me a piece of dark chocolate for free. Finally, my first Roman conquest. I don't see Italian men hitting on anyone. Why even have stereotypes if you're not going to abide by them?