I will admit, I have had trouble sleeping the whole night through here. I wake up at least twice during the night, and once the children are up or the sun breaks over the horizon--whichever comes first--getting back to sleep is nigh impossible. While having my own room and bathroom is nice, it would be much nicer if I had four walls and a door I could shut to cut down on the ambient noise that echos up into my room. So to help, I've taken to turning on the radio and setting it a pianissimo so I can listen to music to help me get to sleep. It sure does mess with my dreams, though! I'll probably end up getting an eye mask to help block out some of the light, but as for the children, short of muzzles I'm not sure how to convince them that there is such a thing as an inside and outside voice...
While I'm on the subject of music on the radio.... The radio stations here seem to like playing "Say My Name" by Destiny's Child. I remember liking that song when I was younger. Listening to it now, though, all I can wonder is if the guy wasn't talking much because he was in the bathroom--since she's obviously calling his cell--and he was trying to nicely get her off the phone without admitting that he picked up at an inopportune time. And yes, this is the sort of thing I consider as I'm drifting off to bed. You're welcome.
Now, for a delicate subject: birthdays. Birthdays have been an interesting thing for me since I started college (and yes, I'm still technically in college. I'm getting a post-bacc), and this year was no exception. I woke up feeling slightly down--not entirely sure why--and it was pouring rain outside. This made the idea of going out and taking more pictures not a priority. I had planned to make a cake for my birthday, and so after some time spent lounging around the house (sadly I did not manage to stay off the computer for three days. I think I need try cutting it out for 24 hour periods instead of trying to go longer. Oh well), I started making the cake.
All I can say about my experience is this: imperial to metric recipe conversions hurt my brain. The last time I made a cake I do not remember adding that much oil (355 mL) and not adding any water. Grating 440g of carrots almost broke the grater, and Italian stores keep weird hours. I found out that I was short an egg around 1430, and since it was getting close to the time to when I need to pick up the boys from school, I was in a rush. I went out into the rain and literally ran to Crai to buy eggs, only to see that they were closed. I nearly broke into the store because I wanted to get this cake finished and in the oven. I didn't, though. I simply went back, trying to think of where I could get an egg and considered ringing up the next door neighbor to see if they would give me one for money. Luckily, the host mother had bought groceries on her way home, and this included a container of eggs. I grabbed one and quickly mixed it in. Making the frosting was another adventure. Apparently they don't sell powdered sugar (zucchero velo) in containers larger than 125 g, so in order for me to make the cream cheese frosting the father had to buy me 8 packages. I ended up only using 6, because the consistency was correct at six.
The family bought me a digital camera for my birthday. Nothing fancy, just your typical point and shoot. Still, it was more than I was expecting. I nearly started crying when I saw it.
I got to use my new camera on Thursday, because we went into Torino to visit the Egyptian Museum with some of the host family's friends and their children. The three year old was left at home with grandpa, and the five year old and ten year old came with us. Just to give an idea of the disposition of the five year old, the mother sometimes calls him "Calvin"--yes, as in Calvin and Hobbes--and he believes that the world does truly revolve around him.
Throughout the day the child threw multiple tantrums over tiny things, from wanting a pair of balloon glasses one of the other children in the group had received (he got them and later popped them and started crying. I just looked at him and said "Them's the breaks, Spunky," which made the other parents laugh) to wanting to go to McDonalds, then finally to losing the stick of his balloon after I took it away (sorry, but I've seen the condition of the streets. I told him multiple times--after he had dropped it on the ground a few times--to not put the stick in his mouth. He didn't listen, and so he lost the stick). By the end of the day I had a migraine and two surly children.
Il museo Egizio was gorgeous. There are three main areas: one shows artifacts that were brought back from Egypt--including small statuettes, various sarcophagi and a couple mummies, and copies of The Book of the Dead--one has statues, and the third is the excavation of the tomb of Kha and Merit, who was a scribe for one of the Pharaohs. They are also in the process of remodelling the museum, and they have covers on the windows that explain what they are doing and compare it to what would have been done in Ancient Egyptian times. I'm going to go again because the migraine made my concentration take a dive.
Friday I misplaced my keys. I didn't realize it until Saturday when I was planning to go out for a walk. Normally this would not be a problem, but the house is not the tidiest, so trying to find my keys ended up being an exercise in moving couches and digging through toy boxes with no luck. By Sunday I was desperate, so I admitted to the parents that I had misplaced them. Turns out the father had found them and put them in a drawer. I'm just really glad because I thought that the house gnomes had absconded with them, and I wouldn't see them again 'til it was time for me to leave.
Anyway, my next term of classes has started and it's going to be interesting to see how I do. Wish me luck?
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