Storms

Last night it stormed harder than it has in a long time. Trees were knocked over onto houses and everything was in complete disarray. At my apartment, the power flickered on and off all night, and every time it did the fire alarm beeped and the VHS player re-situated the tape inside. But, I did have an interesting realization last night. My roommate and I sat down, unable to do really anything to distract us from the looming clouds and wind, so we played cards. I am completely in love with the card game "gin" and I drag her into it all of the time to play with me. We've become quite good and its funny because playing gin has become a time for us to talk and unwind. So, we pulled out all of the candles in the apartment (which, for me, is a lot of candles since I am obsessed with them) and we began to play gin in the dark.
I was sitting there thinking about a time when people didn't have electricity and about a time when they did everything before the sun set. It made me think about how, with those extra hours of artificial light, Americans have become completely consumed with work. It was nice just sitting there enjoying each others' company, but completely uncharacteristic. There is always something else going on simultaneously. Americans are known internationally as work-aholics and I have to say that I agree, to some extent. We don't take breaks in the middle of the day to actually enjoy the day. Working hard is great, but not if it costs you the life and the things you work for. Having money is good but not enjoying it makes it useless. I think that something I will be unaccustomed to when I move to Italy is the change in this mentality. Americans work to work - it fits what we are expected to do - but Italians work because they have a life craft and because it is a means to a different end: affording the things in life that make life just a little more special.

While sitting on the floor that night with the two cats huddled near us, I also realized, for one of many times, how unique my friend is and how much I will miss her company. It's nice to have friends who know you through and through and who, when you have a bad day or snap at them or do other human things, can be upset with you but let it take no effect on the bond you have. I have confidence that even, when I am a complete beast of a human and I act without thinking, I still have a friend who will forgive me and who knows that that person isn't me. What is equally nice is knowing someone else inside and out and still admiring them - still wanting to spend free time with them. Its nice knowing their quirks and appreciating them rather than detesting them. That is who my friend, Lindsay, is to me, and those games of gin will be dearly missed.