I am sitting in Washington Square Park
because Italy has just won the World Cup.
It’s staggering, the energy, the crazy. The
streets are like the belfries in Venice at
noon. It reminds me of the Piazza San
Marco, near where we stayed when in
Venice, the city that became my all-time
favorite (and still is). I didn’t even want
to go to Italy, but the trip was not for me,
it was for the young graduate of the Aca-
demy of Art, a gift of such enormity
that I certainly wish I could afford now.
It was a wonderful place: Italy; Rome,
Florence and Venice were always
resounding with bells. I’d love my
head in a gigantic bell right now (I’ve
such a photo of myself from none other
than St. Mark’s Square during that very
trip). Instead, I’m sweaty and swigging
from the jug of job interviews in which
I’ve participated during the past week
(Thank you very much, one-click applica-
tion, you’ve been very good to me! Unless
of course you’re a tease, as I’ve no work
lined up as of yet. Is a tease better than
nothing at all? I have this parenthetical
debate with myself often. Sometimes
daily. Unlike prayers, which I gave up
so many years ago. Well, that’s not
entirely true. Old habits, like spates
of good or bad luck, do very much
have a tendency to die hard, it seems.).
