Lacuna Matata

la·cu·na (noun) -- a gap or missing part, as in a manuscript, series, or logical argument; hiatus.  It's appalling that the lacuna in Tiffany's blog has lasted ten months.

I have been sitting here staring at the computer screen for the last fifteen minutes, trying to come up with a clever excuse for why my blog has suffered a lengthy lacuna.  Sure, I've been busy.  Yes, I've been lazy.  But I think the bottom line is that I have gone through such a transitional period these last ten months that I just had to take a break from blogging and ride the rollercoaster for a while.  (Not to mention the fact that someone very near and dear to me whose opinion is important to me told me that my blog was narcissistic...ouch.)

Now, I'm ready to pick up the metaphorical pen again and get back to it (and thank you to those of you out there who encouraged me to do so!). 

I last left you in August 2010 as I was preparing to embark on a solo trip to Italy.  Before I break down my time since (which will happen in my next blog entry), I want to briefly enlighten you on the change of heart and soul I experienced on that fateful trip (and please refrain from comparing me or my experiences to that self-absorbed woman who wrote "Eat, Pray, Love" or else I will puke). 

Colosseum

I knew the trip to Italy, my first solo backpacking trip since El Accidente, was going to be rough.  Understatement.  Cobblestones + steep hills + intense heat + stairs, stairs everywhere + strolling tourists who don't look where they're going because they're too busy mouth-raping gelato cones + ruins + crutches = HELL. ON. WHEELS.  And let's not forget that I had only been back on crutches after my bilateral ankle surgeries for just under two months, so I was still quite weak.  Two days in, I was berating myself for not having gone to the Maldives instead.  Nevertheless, despite all the factors working against me, and because of my irritatingly stubborn determination, I hobbled my way through the country for twelve days.

Trevi Fountain

I spent four days bulldozing through the major Roman sites and one day recovering in bed while watching "Jersey Shore" (the only English program on TV).  I then traveled north to the medieval town of Siena,  followed by a three-day stay at a 16th century farmhouse in the midst of an organic farm and vineyard in Tuscany.  The trip finished with a few lovely days in Florence and Milan.

 

Mmmm...

It was in that farmhouse in Tuscany, three days of reading, drinking wine, eating home-grown olives, cheese, and pesto picnic-style, where I entertained some deep thought processes regarding my life:  what it was before, what it was now, and what I wanted it to become.  I knew that even though the trip was exhausting and frustrating and at times extremely tear-inducing, it was not a complete failure because I finally felt like "Me" again.  I still had that exhilarating feeling inside that I hadn't felt in years; that feeling that only comes from hopping on and off public transportation and aimlessly wandering down quiet foreign streets with a backpack and without an itinerary.  I've always been my worst critic, but I finally felt proud of myself and thrilled with how far I had come and accomplished, all by myelf!  I had been depressed for months about my lack of independence, and finally I realized that I had recaptured it and I was certainly never going to let it go again. 

The introspective Italian holiday set the wheels in motion in helping me realize that I needed to completely (or at least mostly) stop depending on people, Spaniard included, and finally take charge and full control of my life again.  And that's what I did...and what I've been doing for the last ten months.

Next blog:  The 10-month breakdown...