Loz finally makes an appearance on this blog...

So I’m sitting here in Florence … we’ve just cracked open another bottle of the finest Chianti and we’re cooking minestrone soup. Very Italian. Very domestic. Phoebe is our latest gal pal and our flatmate in our Firenze apartment we’re renting through the Scuola Leonardo da Vinci. She’s cool. Her parents live in Perth where she just spent the past six weeks having a raunchy love affair with the local bartender where she worked. I was instantly impressed and we became friends. When we realised we shared a mutual love of red wine, we knew it was the start of a lifelong friendship. Until Riss arrived an hour later and they started speaking Italian to each other and I was old news. As I sit here typing they are sitting there with their bloody Italian-Inglese dictionaries conversing in Italian. We start school tomorrow and we’re all freaking out a little. They serve you a test straight up. It feels like a school night so no late-night shenanigans like last night. Hmmm…last night. I got married. Well, at least the Italian guy at the pizzeria thought we were married. I told him I already had a husband but that didn’t matter … apparently he wants five wives! But I would be the special one … of course. Bloody Italians. And he wasn’t even cute. Actually, they were about 50 years old, and one was named Spartaco. Yes, like Spartacus. Like from Gladiator. Then when he found out we were Australian he proceeded to tell us he was an Aboriginal. Like we would be impressed?? Hmmm … with Spartaco chewing my ear off in Italian (help girls I have no idea what he is saying …) my future husband was telling me that because he was able to guess my name … he guessed Laura then Katie in a row … he thought it was ‘our destiny’ to be together. Idiot. He then followed up with the line … ‘you make my knees goes wobbly’ … I’m assuming he means weak at the knees. Too funny. But he did help us order from the menu. Apparently he knows what his wife likes. Haha. I was just agreeable so he’d go away and the cute boys waiting at the counter would hurry over and lavish us with bad pick up lines. Oh and we have to mention the cute waiter who leaned casually over the table, looked deep into my eyes and asked me if I wanted desert. Oh, yes please!!!