This is from Colli Euganei, where I had lunch last weekend! |
So here is a little update finally. In these past 2 or so months I have: visited Cinque Terre (finally!), worked on my bikini lines in the park, by the sea in Liguria, by a swimming pool, and in Sottomarina (which truly lives up to its reputation in NOT being a fantastic place!). I have finally discovered a very good gelateria in the city and I have eaten clams, mussels, octopus, scallop and an oyster! I truly have ventured out of my comfort zone in this sense. I have watched two matches of calcetto (5-a-side-footy) and have actually quite enjoyed watching it. Ive applied for many jobs and received no responses and I have probably gained about 5kg eating too much gelato and other yummy treats. I also suspect that I have learned a little bit of Italian as I have been hanging around real Italians quite a lot and even though a lot of the time they speak far too fast for me to understand I do hope some of it is miraculously sticking to my brain.
I have been thinking I should start writing little notes for myself because whenever I'm sitting on the bus or train travelling between companies, I have my head full of things that I would like to write to you about but as soon as I get home I get distracted and forget everything. Maybe I should write myself a note to remind me that I need to make notes.
One thing I do remember even now though; A couple of months ago I was in a shop in Verona trying on some shorts. They were the size I normally take and from a shop that I normally shop in so everything should have technically been fine but as I discovered in the fitting room, the shorts just didn't fit. Fair enough, this is not the end of the world and of course it happens all the time to all of us but the observation that I made that day was: as soon as I pulled the shorts on and found that they didn't fit I commented to myself "oh great, my thunder thighs are too fat!". I know, we have all been there. There is nothing new in criticising yourself when you see your image in the fitting room mirror. The difference for me this time was that afterwards I found myself asking why I immediately blamed the ill fitting shorts on my thighs? Why, for once, couldn't my first reaction be that there was something wrong with the cut of the shorts? And why, for heaven's sake, do the clothes manufacturers have the right to dictate what shape and size my thighs should be? I have made a decision that the next time I try something on and it doesn't fit, I will ask myself "what is wrong with these clothes?" instead of questioning my body. I think it is a much less self-destructive approach to shopping. Are you with me?
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