Vignette # 3: Home Sweet Home

           In Forni apartment 17, things continue on as they have been. I’ve started calling it “home,” which is very accurate, as Marta still acts like my Italian mother and Viola a little sister. As for Letizia…there are a few inner-apartment issues with my often-absent fourth housemate, but for the most part they don’t affect me (unless you count the multiple times I am left unable to access the bathroom until two in the morning because she’s in there for three hours talking on the phone and refuses to get out). Overall, I’ve realized that this living situation is temporary so the issues that bother Marta and Viola don’t bother me too too much. I’ve become really close with Marta and Viola—particularly Viola—and we cook dinner together and watch movies together almost every night. I’ve been consistently trying to convince Viola that we can sneak her across the U.S. border in my suitcase.

            I’m almost learning to be a grown-up, as far as apartment-living goes! I clean the apartment (when I remember it’s my turn) and I manage not to flood the bathroom too much when I shower (if I do, then I have to use the mop to dry it up). I am only slightly terrified of doing laundry in the morgue (one harrowing experience involving strange noises down there late at night has led me to always bringing a buddy when washing my clothes) and I finally bought a lighter that is longer (and thus much safer and usable) than a cigarette lighter, so I can light our gas stove by myself. I’ve been cooking successfully! But then again, it’s easy to make good food here—nearly everything is fresh. Something that still amazes me is how quickly bottles of milk expire here; they last…maybe three days. No preservatives! Freshness! So cool! The shelf above my bed is filling up with little souvenirs from all of my trips. At the end of those long traveling weekends, my cozy duvet cover, the Christmas lights, Marta’s endless chatter and Viola’s “how are you doing, girl?” in her thick Albanian accent become like a light at the end of the tunnel—that safe, familiar feeling of home that I always look forward to returning to after flying all over Europe.