Oh, Stacey, I have been thinking about you and John! The smell of paper (usually heated) and (slightly burned) coffee, perfectly summarizes my experience in the traditional American workplace (surely not the Italian one) where I never belonged. My heart aches for you that you had to leave Italy - and NYC. But truly glad you did not end up in Minneapolis, the Front Lines of what's left of our democracy. I'm glad you have friends and family around you. And hope that one day you'll be able to live a life that's not so brutal - a smaller law firm(?), some place a little more human. After all of that, that's what we are. That's what you are. Excuse hurried writing (you deserve better), just a quick note to say I hear you and wish you better, which you also deserve. XXX Melodie
PS I'm off all social media now (rejoined Twitter just to be able to post things to the bike community, but never check in otherwise). It's better to be present.
Oh my gosh - it's so good to read your words again! They have always resonated with me. I always regretted that I didn't knock on your door in Amelia a few (four or five?) years ago when I was there for the day. I didn't want to disturb - but I wish I had! You are an amazing and thoughtful writer.
I know those feelings that you describe so well. Italy has a piece of my heart and I am constantly thinking about escaping to my little home in Spello to get away from the madness that is happening in this country. I am glad to hear that you are doing reasonably well in Houston. I was worried. Write more!
If only! But we always think we have time, right? Sometimes we do, but not always. I love the idea of you holing up in Spello (it is SO beautiful there!). I hope that happens soon.
For a time, I moved around so much that my adage became, "Home is where the hat is." Likely I'll have to compress my life once again as I'll probably have to downsize to a studio apartment. At least there is very little in the way of physical stuff to which I feel any kind of attachment. (My colleague here in C'dale has taken up paying for my storage locker, because he can't abide the thought of me getting rid of the 30 boxes of books I have in there, books I haven't looked at in 20+ years.)
God damn, your such a great writer! I feel it, i picture it, and it's very relatable. YOLO! Experiences come in many forms from simplistic, chaotic, or sublime, and i'm thrilled you and John have a sturdy basecamp, perhaps bucolic at times, especially with the drums!🤪🥁🎵Gotta get the paintings and the vinyl. Congrats on the wee tot! Best wishes, cuz eee.😘
Stacey, your post makes the liminality of life comprehensible. It is rooted in nuance and brims with familiarity. It is ironic but elides bitterness. It is unironically self-depreciating, and it is suffused throughout with a wealth of observation expressed with a discernment to envy. And we your readers are the richer for gifts.
and i thought the nativity creche i found at the las vegas casino bar entrance was absurd. but you...a jesus, mary and joseph potato nativity? didn’t believe it til i found one. google search images.
i care about your life in italy, and will read iit as long as you will write. i will listen about the stigmata, about manhattan, about tx…well, ok, i draw a line re tx…. and i probably only know all about pio because of my catholic upbringing.
i lived parallel life; i left sf for europe--twice: work, met husband, traveled, university, skiing; it changed how i live my life. that pain and anguish of saying farewell which you touch on was only overridden by a compeling desire to return for myriad reasons, twice, including my BA and MFA, my first house, having my daughter. i have no grandkids; but our adult daughter lives with us; a survivor with her own hardships. but now especially, i ache not only to get back and find my real self, other self, or better self, but to get out of…here. u nailed the ''lovely sadness'' oxymoron. can we help get john's oils and your vinyls? can u replace the books unless antiques/special editions?
sometimes we become imposters to survive. then we shed that suit for a different one or sans one. for a while anyway.
sooo nice to read you. you are such an amazing writer. thank you so much for sharing your gift with all of us.
A heart wrenching and honest reflection. Wish you and John could find a path to get back to Italy or somewhere in Europe. I'm in northern Italy, and I may end up relocating back to the States, but the things you describe make me wonder. I also notice that when I'm back "home" nobody has a frame of reference for living abroad, and nobody asks.
It pleases me that you left your footprints in Umbria. Pleases me more to find a link to this post in my inbox. It's been a while. Too damn long. Now...what the hell? An office in a law firm. Managing partner now?
So glad to have another piece from you! You really are a wonderful writer. I’m glad you’re doing well, in spite of—gestures wildly about—everything. Humans are remarkably resilient. Thanks for sharing.
> I have been called to draw on what is surely my only strength. I adapt.
Stacey, it is obvious to the most casual observer (as a former professor used to say) that you have many more strengths than you let on.
Writing -- really writing; more than just putting words to paper, but conveying a message clearly -- is the low-hanging fruit that is easiest to acknowledge.
Sticking by your partner through thin and thin is nothing to sneeze at either. "Too poor to eat" couldn't have helped.
Being able to assess brutal reality (heavy on the "brutal") and make life-changing decisions from that is, shall we say, useful as well.
I'm not blowing sunshine, just noting the obvious.
I have enormous respect for your writing (and the messages therein), and for adapting to a culture whose values do not mesh well with your own. The latter would drive me to madness in pretty short order.
You think much deeper than I. It's always useful to read your thoughts.
How _you_ are able to adapt is particularly good to hear, especially in these times of unprecedented madness; thank you for sharing, Stacey.
Oh, Stacey, I have been thinking about you and John! The smell of paper (usually heated) and (slightly burned) coffee, perfectly summarizes my experience in the traditional American workplace (surely not the Italian one) where I never belonged. My heart aches for you that you had to leave Italy - and NYC. But truly glad you did not end up in Minneapolis, the Front Lines of what's left of our democracy. I'm glad you have friends and family around you. And hope that one day you'll be able to live a life that's not so brutal - a smaller law firm(?), some place a little more human. After all of that, that's what we are. That's what you are. Excuse hurried writing (you deserve better), just a quick note to say I hear you and wish you better, which you also deserve. XXX Melodie
PS I'm off all social media now (rejoined Twitter just to be able to post things to the bike community, but never check in otherwise). It's better to be present.
What you wrote is incredibly dear. Thank you for that. I hear not-Twitter is a cesspool these days, but if anyone can set them straight, it’s you!
Oh my gosh - it's so good to read your words again! They have always resonated with me. I always regretted that I didn't knock on your door in Amelia a few (four or five?) years ago when I was there for the day. I didn't want to disturb - but I wish I had! You are an amazing and thoughtful writer.
I know those feelings that you describe so well. Italy has a piece of my heart and I am constantly thinking about escaping to my little home in Spello to get away from the madness that is happening in this country. I am glad to hear that you are doing reasonably well in Houston. I was worried. Write more!
If only! But we always think we have time, right? Sometimes we do, but not always. I love the idea of you holing up in Spello (it is SO beautiful there!). I hope that happens soon.
My wife and I live up the road, Carol. Maybe coffee one day in Spello. But let's not tell Stacey lest she brim over with a cup of black nostalgia!
For a time, I moved around so much that my adage became, "Home is where the hat is." Likely I'll have to compress my life once again as I'll probably have to downsize to a studio apartment. At least there is very little in the way of physical stuff to which I feel any kind of attachment. (My colleague here in C'dale has taken up paying for my storage locker, because he can't abide the thought of me getting rid of the 30 boxes of books I have in there, books I haven't looked at in 20+ years.)
I HATE the fact of you moving. This is no good. I hate that rents rise so quickly here that sometimes we have no choice but to move.
Moving is stressful and quasi-traumatic, even when we want it. And I don’t want it, not for you.
I definitely too old for this shit. I passed "middle aged" quite a few years ago.
You hear the "N word" all the time?! Oh, I couldn't keep my mouth shut with that inanity.
And if we met IRL, Your life in Italy is ALL I would want to talk about! 😁
Not all the time! Never from my boss, who is a wonderful man. But I have heard it, and it is very VERY hard not to lose my mind.
Why the hell doesn't HR do something?!
Texas, my friend. This is Texas.
I'm so sorry. One of the many reasons I have no desire to go either there or Florida. 🥺
God damn, your such a great writer! I feel it, i picture it, and it's very relatable. YOLO! Experiences come in many forms from simplistic, chaotic, or sublime, and i'm thrilled you and John have a sturdy basecamp, perhaps bucolic at times, especially with the drums!🤪🥁🎵Gotta get the paintings and the vinyl. Congrats on the wee tot! Best wishes, cuz eee.😘
Love this piece -- will assist my search for sanity as I idle on the BQE today. xx
Stacey, your post makes the liminality of life comprehensible. It is rooted in nuance and brims with familiarity. It is ironic but elides bitterness. It is unironically self-depreciating, and it is suffused throughout with a wealth of observation expressed with a discernment to envy. And we your readers are the richer for gifts.
and i thought the nativity creche i found at the las vegas casino bar entrance was absurd. but you...a jesus, mary and joseph potato nativity? didn’t believe it til i found one. google search images.
i care about your life in italy, and will read iit as long as you will write. i will listen about the stigmata, about manhattan, about tx…well, ok, i draw a line re tx…. and i probably only know all about pio because of my catholic upbringing.
i lived parallel life; i left sf for europe--twice: work, met husband, traveled, university, skiing; it changed how i live my life. that pain and anguish of saying farewell which you touch on was only overridden by a compeling desire to return for myriad reasons, twice, including my BA and MFA, my first house, having my daughter. i have no grandkids; but our adult daughter lives with us; a survivor with her own hardships. but now especially, i ache not only to get back and find my real self, other self, or better self, but to get out of…here. u nailed the ''lovely sadness'' oxymoron. can we help get john's oils and your vinyls? can u replace the books unless antiques/special editions?
sometimes we become imposters to survive. then we shed that suit for a different one or sans one. for a while anyway.
sooo nice to read you. you are such an amazing writer. thank you so much for sharing your gift with all of us.
A heart wrenching and honest reflection. Wish you and John could find a path to get back to Italy or somewhere in Europe. I'm in northern Italy, and I may end up relocating back to the States, but the things you describe make me wonder. I also notice that when I'm back "home" nobody has a frame of reference for living abroad, and nobody asks.
It pleases me that you left your footprints in Umbria. Pleases me more to find a link to this post in my inbox. It's been a while. Too damn long. Now...what the hell? An office in a law firm. Managing partner now?
So glad to have another piece from you! You really are a wonderful writer. I’m glad you’re doing well, in spite of—gestures wildly about—everything. Humans are remarkably resilient. Thanks for sharing.
Lovely piece and I'm happy to hear you're doing ok. Although I don't wish a 9 to 5 job on anyone!
> I have been called to draw on what is surely my only strength. I adapt.
Stacey, it is obvious to the most casual observer (as a former professor used to say) that you have many more strengths than you let on.
Writing -- really writing; more than just putting words to paper, but conveying a message clearly -- is the low-hanging fruit that is easiest to acknowledge.
Sticking by your partner through thin and thin is nothing to sneeze at either. "Too poor to eat" couldn't have helped.
Being able to assess brutal reality (heavy on the "brutal") and make life-changing decisions from that is, shall we say, useful as well.
I'm not blowing sunshine, just noting the obvious.
I have enormous respect for your writing (and the messages therein), and for adapting to a culture whose values do not mesh well with your own. The latter would drive me to madness in pretty short order.
You think much deeper than I. It's always useful to read your thoughts.
How _you_ are able to adapt is particularly good to hear, especially in these times of unprecedented madness; thank you for sharing, Stacey.