Sono Tornata a Casa

Being in L.A. was a culture shock I never got over even though I stayed nearly four months and longer than intended.  Within ten minutes of my arrival, I was ready to return to Italy.  Being bombarded daily with obstacles and challenges was frustrating.  Leaving behind my sweet Mabelina and others I care for greatly was painful.  Not having succeeded to accomplish, complete, or resolve any of the things I went to L.A. to do was beyond unsettling.

The benefit of all the NONpositive experiences is that it has become crystal clear that L.A. is no longer home.  Is Florence, Italy?

Driving in the taxi from the airport to my apartment, I relished in the chaos of the traffic and the life on the streets that make Italy Italy.  Turning down my street, I was greeted by my two American friends, Campari in hand (cocktail hour for them) on the stoop across the street from where I live, awaiting my arrival.  Dragging my three heavy bags up 60 stairs to my home sweet home, we then enjoyed appetizers and got caught up.

Being away so long while many friends remained behind, I often have felt like an outsider (real or not, feelings are feelings, not fact) as their relations flourished.

The party is over.  L.A. is no longer home.  Florence is the place I want to call “home.”  Serious I am about finding solutions to survive here.  Again my hope is renewed, though, I must admit, with some fear I did not bring with me last October.  Determined and with a bit of time, I will overcome the fear and enjoy my own dolce vita.

Writing this post in the park at Bobolino with Mabelina next to me, the journey resumes…

-- Josslyn "Giosalina" 

Firenze, Italia