Felce

Another faaaascinating entry from me. This one is going to be about... wait for it... ... ... soap! Yes! (You have my full permission to go do something else, something slightly less excrutiatingly boring.) For the rest of you...

My attention has been snagged by the "Felce Azzurra" soap stuff pretty much every time I have walked past it in a store, the entire time I've been here. First, I was all in the 'omg there is so much exciting stuff in this supermarket and the reason it is all so exciting is because the label is written in Italian' phase. While a good half of the soap here in Italy exists in America, too, (e.g. Dove, Neutrogena), some of it didn't. And so I was fascinated. I am not hard to entertain, sometimes.

Then I started to wonder what it mean. Okay, so azzurra is light blue. Got that. Even if I hadn't learned it in my Italian classes during semesters of yore, my own students endearingly call anything they perceive as being azzurro "blue... light". Even the little ones. (Side note to self: I would probably just call it all "blue" and not differentiate, but they will actually argue with me. Is this because in Italian there are actually two separate words? Language shaping cognitive development? Remember to ponder this some other time.) Anyway, so, azzurra is covered, but what the hell is felce? (For those of you who know the answer, bear with me. I'm not that bright. Evidently.)

First I thought it meant jacket. But that turns out to be felpe. The two are not related. Then I thought it meant felt, for obvious reasons. But why would anyone make a soap called "light blue felt"? Especially since the bottle proclaims that it's an inimitable scent. Last I checked, felt doesn't smell particularly interesting.

Fast-forward seven months, I finally succombed and bought some. It smells kind of vaguely... spicy. Not spicy like hot, but spicy like spices. Like cinnamon or ginger or something. So this morning I word-referenced it and it means fern. Which would pretty much explain why there is a picture of a blue fern on all of the bottles. (Told you I wasn't very bright.)

The only remaining question is this: it smells kind of manly. Not very feminine, anyway. Is it actually men's soap? Because that would be awkward.

Then again, I'm sure my roommates are used to awkward by now.

In which the authoress slinks guiltily back to her blog

Ciao, people! I'm alive!

Just barely. No, I kid. I've just been a bit busy. First I was sick for about two weeks, and that was annoying, particularly because the slave driver people at work made me teach even the psycho three year olds (see previous entry on the topic of psycho three year olds) even on the day when I could barely stand up. I resent that, Slave Driver People at Work. Just so you know.

Then I went to Rome for Easter and that was delightful. Much like at carnevale in Venice, there was un sacco di gente (and I just really like that expression). Rome is beautiful and I will perhaps write about that another day.

For now I have to go to work (bah) and before that I think I will eat some lunch. Probably I will stick some cheese on some pane integrale and call it a day. The cheese is part of my new educate-self-about-food campaign, which came about because I don't know anything about food, so I pretty much only ever eat cheese at other people's houses, because that way they have already selected it. And if they happen to mention what kind it is, then I can buy it later, too.

This is a somewhat inefficient method, though, so I decided to try something else. My new strategy is this: walk up to the cheese section in Standa or Esselunga or wherever, select a piece of cheese at random, and hope for the best. So far I have tried Pecorino Romano (actually, someone had already told me that was good), Pecorino Toscano (actually, I meant to buy more of the first, but I wasn't paying attention... but it it was good anyway), and today's selection is Casera Valtellina (DOP... which at least makes me feel all officious about buying it). I shall google it in a moment and let you know how it all works out later.

Hm... I think my throat feels a bit sore. How can this be? Clearly my immune system of steel is a thing of the past. I *knew* I should have just run in the opposite direction when all the materna kids mobbed me yesterday going "tata d'inglese, un bacino! un bacino!" But... I mean... hugs from four-year-olds... how can you resist?

Pezzi

Today I saw an auto-scuola car from a driving school apparently called "Pezzi". Which means "pieces". This is not very confidence-inspiring, in my opinion. Not that I should talk, when it comes to driving - remind me to tell you the story of the blue car someday.

Speaking of pezzi, there is a pizza a taglio place on the Via Emilia (the end closer to Modena) called "Pizza a pezzi", whose sign I really enjoy. I've never actually bought pizza there, but I just really like how 'pizza a pezzi' sounds. Although I think it would be even better if it said 'pizze a pezzi' (pizze, for those not in the know, being the plural of pizza... so it would totally work).

Anyway. I'm off to bed. Eight and a half hours teaching today... but then pizza with a group of gli studenti, which was fun.

P.S. I have that sincerita' song from San Remo stuck in my head. I didn't even watch San Remo. It seems unfair.