Oslo is a four-letter word. Nutella panino is not.

Let’s review the facts.  I live in New York City.  Fabio lives in Italy.  I am interviewing for jobs in NYC and San Francisco.  He was interviewing for jobs in Paris, Rome and Dubai.

A few days ago, he received final offers for jobs in… wait for it… oh just go ahead and fuck me now…

1. Dubai (as expected)

2. Moscow (WTF)

3. Oslo (I am speechless)

Much to my appreciation, he did ask Potential-Future-Employer if NYC was also a possibility, though it was not originally on the table.  Big fat NO.  So Oslo is the offer of choice both career-wise and proximity-wise to friends/family/me.  Fab goes for his final round in Oslo this Friday. 

I can’t say I’m upset.  I don’t feel that I’m not being considered.  I feel very much consulted and kept in the loop.  But I also have that ominous sense that everything is about to change really soon and it will possibly suck.  Last night I had a lengthy nightmare about being forcibly taken on a driving trip in a Porshe through Canada with my ex-boyfriend.  Unrelated subject-matter, but it sets the tone.

At first I was uber-happy for his phenomenally awesome job offers.  How could they not like him and want him in multiple cities all over EurAsia??  Then I realized… he’s making a commitment to this new job.  If we want to live in the same city anytime in the next two years, I will have to move to NORWAY.  This is a buzz kill. 

We’ve been dating long-distance for 6 months.  Neither of us will have vacation left after our 10-day New Year’s holiday.  We’ve discussed how difficult/impossible/preposterous it will be to travel after that.  Where do we go from here?  My main point is that I think we need to go SOMEWHERE. 

Either we take a risk and really get to know each other, day-to-day, over cereal in the morning, on good days and bad days, and possibly in Scandinavia, and see if this really is what we think it is… or we are grateful for the time we had… and incredibly sad that this amazing connection was thwarted by distance and a big ocean… (and a decision for one of us to move to Norway?)

I vented a bit about this with Deb tonight over a glass and a half of wine at Barcibo Enoteca.  Powdered-sugar-coated panino oozing with melty nutella was a really happy distraction.  I’m not great with my wines, but the we both agreed that we’d never had anything like the $16 glass of Amarone.  Crazy fruity, sweet but dry, full, and good with nutella.  I promised her I’d post a glamour shot.

Pasta nazi

My boyfriend is a pasta nazi. 

Last week, Fabio and I had a Canadian rendezvous in Whistler, British Columbia.  He was in Vancouver for work and pathetically, meeting in southwestern Canada is convenient since we’re normally much farther apart in NYC and Italy.  It was a super fun, sunny time.  Fabio was very modest about his skiing abilities… he’s insanely good at it.  But waited for me at the end of every run.  Jeez I am slow.  And he is incredibly sweet.

Regardless, he is still a pasta nazi.  He cooked for me 2 nights at the condo.   Delicious pasta both nights. The second night, we couldn’t find anchovies for the sauce he wanted to make.  So I threw out approximately 4 ad hoc things we could do with the pasta based on other ingredients I saw in the grocery store…  these were all dismissed with the statement “that is not pasta“.  In frustration and hunger, I finally swore that I would never, EVER cook pasta for him…EVER!!!  To which he only slyly grinned…  no doubt his intent.  Evil Italian boyfriend.

Thank gawd we eventually found the anchovies strangely placed in the refrigerator section between some olive paste and processed ham.  Here is a photo of the tasty result with the elusive anchovy box. 

 

pasta deliziosa

 

 

 

 

 

Beginning Italian

You have a firm bum. Tu hai un sedere sodo. Sweet kisses. Dolci baci. Long caresses. Lunghe carezze. Let’s pig out. Smaialiamo. The first Italian words I learned were a bit impractical. My Italian boyfriend taught me these words (parole) on-the-fly, in the bed, whenever randomly I asked… how do you say this in Italiano? You would be surprised how many ways you can work the word gnomo, the Italian word for gnome, into a conversation if it’s one of the only words you know.

Making my limited Italian worse is the fact that I already speak some Spanish. Italian and Spanish are very close, so sometimes I accidentally mix up the words or pronunciation when I’m talking into something we call ‘Spitaliano’. Not pretty.

Sono americana. I’m 36-years old, American, and live in New York City. My boyfriend, Fabio, is Italian and lives in Como, Italy. I have considered not telling people this anymore because of the reactions I get. Responses from the blunt: “well, that will never work!” to blank stares. Not very optimistic about my international relationship considering we’re all supposed to be thinking globally, not locally these days, and it’s a small world after all.

Fabio and I have been dating long-distance for 6-months now and I haven’t had a relationship this uncomplicated in years. I know what you’re thinking… “of course it’s easy, you never see each other! You aren’t experiencing his annoying every-day idiosyncrasies over text messages, phone calls or emails.” Well, maybe you’re right, but convenience isn’t everything. My ex-boyfriend lived 6-blocks from me in Manhattan. It couldn’t have been more convenient. I am occasionally irritated that didn’t work out. The proximity kicked ass. We never had to plan anything in advance or remember to bring extra clothes for sleepovers or take the walk-of-shame. But honestly, I also think that’s a lot of the reason it didn’t work. How can anyone possibly appreciate something or someone that is so accessible and available?

So now I’m going over 4,000 miles to visit my honey in Italy after Christmas. I’ve never seen where he lives. Actually, that’s not entirely correct. I’ve never seen his house, which is not where he lives right now since it’s being renovated. In the meantime, being Italian, he lives with his parents in their house, which I have seen in photos….pictures of the kitchen, his bedroom, the view of the deep blue lake, the picture-perfect mountain peaks, the quaint village around the corner. Yeah, I’m pinching myself the same color blue as the lake!

As soon as I booked this flight, I signed up for a Beginning Italian language course where I am learning NEW words that are handy in every day conversation with normal people. After five 2-hour classes at ABC Language school I can conjugate verbs and make jokes and complement pasta deliziosa! I can put the words for hugs, kisses, little kisses, big kisses, tender kisses, and hot kisses into sentences! I can say it’s nice to meet you! Let’s go to Lake Como now! Andiamo a Lago di Como ora!!!