Less than 24 hours--maybe!

Well, I finally packed (and pulled out my back lifting up a giant suitcase) but I think I'm too happy to care. I can't believe I get to spend two months in rome--it's inane for me to repeat this over and over, but that's how it feels. Because it felt so easy, even though the entire process probably took about 5 or 6 years. In the beginning, I fell in love with Rome, visiting Diana, and started dreaming about buying a vacation house in Umbria, or retiring there. At the same time, I'd been dreaming about doing a book--some book, ANY book--just since I'd always wanted to write and publish a book since I've been about 9 years old. I'd had a few aborted attempts, most notably an internet dating book with an ex boyfriend (boy, can you learn a lot about how the opposite sex views the world when you write a book on dating with them). When I finally got the sex in real-life idea--a book about the sexual things women wonder and worry about, and wish they could discuss honestly--even though the proposal ended up taking almost two years from birth to sale, it still felt easy in an important way--in that it almost always felt fun to write and think and talk about. Anyway, I promised myself that if I got a generous enough advance, I would spend a few months working on the book in Rome. Why Rome? No particular reason except that it's my second favorite city in the universe (NYC comes first). In any case, the whole thing came together fairly organically--found my apartment through an agency listed on Rome Craig's list, signed up for a few cool apartment exchange sites in the process, had a good experience negotiating for a leave at work--so, easy! When something is right, it feels easy in a certain way, even if it takes work. I think that's a good thing to remember before I head into my next relationship.

Ciao, ciao!
Paola