We Say Firenze
Wednesday, February 13, 2008 by Michael Reynolds
Occasional commenter, blogger, and viral punster Ruth Anne seems to believe that my planned move to Italy is akin to death. Or at least absence. Au contraire. Or as we might say in Italian, ho rotto la gamba . . . wait, that doesn't sound quite right.
Anyway, my point is that I'm in North Carolina whereas most of you are in such godforsaken places as Kansas, California, Texas or even North Carolina, so it's not like we hang out at the corner bar and you implore me to buy you round after round of straight vodka shots while you get sloppy and maudlin and end up confiding what you did with your cousin back in tenth grade, you slime.
Wait. I think I had a point when I started out. Um . . . Okay, my point is I'm not virtually moving away, I'm only moving away in reality. I intend to keep blogging. At least until my editor gets me my rewrite (ahem). And once I've done the rewrite I'll blog some more. Until I can drag my sorry ass onto the next book.
The only difference will be that I will become increasingly divorced from the mundane and meaningless lives you peasants lead, and will ascend to new heights of culturitude. Or culturation. Possibly culturification. I may even read Dante.
In any case, the timeline goes like this: 1) Next week I go to Italy to find us a place to live. 2) Then, we apply for residency visas. 3) Then we move.
We also have to sell this house, which means erasing evidence of the destruction we've visited on this place in three years' time. (See Vandals.) We have to find temporary homes for all the goddamned animals. I have to make sure my health insurance works in Italy. (Which would be an improvement.) I have to sell (sob) my beloved Benz. (2002, S-500, black with tan interior, fair condition, 75k miles, after-market DVD, make a reasonable offer over $19,000.)
We have to move all our stuff into storage. Update wills. File taxes. Figure out how to buy a car in Italy. Learn to speak Italian. Figure out how to shift residency to a state with no state income tax. (WA, NV, TN, FL, NH, WY, SD, TX. I have them memorized.) And about eight bazillion other things.
If the visa comes through we're out of here in May or June. If. But I have no intention of dropping the blog. I feel it's my duty to irritate the hell out of long-time readers with tales of my Tuscan lifestyle which will involve fabulous meals, great wines, terrific sightseeing, a mistress (hey, when in Rome, or Florence,) and staring out over the picturesque olive groves as I go slowly mad from boredom.
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Anyway, my point is that I'm in North Carolina whereas most of you are in such godforsaken places as Kansas, California, Texas or even North Carolina, so it's not like we hang out at the corner bar and you implore me to buy you round after round of straight vodka shots while you get sloppy and maudlin and end up confiding what you did with your cousin back in tenth grade, you slime.
Wait. I think I had a point when I started out. Um . . . Okay, my point is I'm not virtually moving away, I'm only moving away in reality. I intend to keep blogging. At least until my editor gets me my rewrite (ahem). And once I've done the rewrite I'll blog some more. Until I can drag my sorry ass onto the next book.
The only difference will be that I will become increasingly divorced from the mundane and meaningless lives you peasants lead, and will ascend to new heights of culturitude. Or culturation. Possibly culturification. I may even read Dante.
In any case, the timeline goes like this: 1) Next week I go to Italy to find us a place to live. 2) Then, we apply for residency visas. 3) Then we move.
We also have to sell this house, which means erasing evidence of the destruction we've visited on this place in three years' time. (See Vandals.) We have to find temporary homes for all the goddamned animals. I have to make sure my health insurance works in Italy. (Which would be an improvement.) I have to sell (sob) my beloved Benz. (2002, S-500, black with tan interior, fair condition, 75k miles, after-market DVD, make a reasonable offer over $19,000.)
We have to move all our stuff into storage. Update wills. File taxes. Figure out how to buy a car in Italy. Learn to speak Italian. Figure out how to shift residency to a state with no state income tax. (WA, NV, TN, FL, NH, WY, SD, TX. I have them memorized.) And about eight bazillion other things.
If the visa comes through we're out of here in May or June. If. But I have no intention of dropping the blog. I feel it's my duty to irritate the hell out of long-time readers with tales of my Tuscan lifestyle which will involve fabulous meals, great wines, terrific sightseeing, a mistress (hey, when in Rome, or Florence,) and staring out over the picturesque olive groves as I go slowly mad from boredom.