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Jan Peppler's avatar

loneliness and solitude are indeed NOT the same thing. I'm with you 100% (or points)

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Cheryl A. Ossola's avatar

Glad to hear it! Zero points for you! ;-)

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Donatella's avatar

absolutely loved it... you have a gift!

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Cheryl A. Ossola's avatar

Thanks so much, that's lovely to hear!

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Vian's avatar

This is not a necessarily accurate count, because you introduced various variables, but if you were awarded most of the misery points you were entitled to, you got something like 480 out of what, 500 or so. Good going. Now, there is this: you didn't do any subtraction along the way (and what an Itinerary, Verona to Naples, back to Venice, back to Rome!), but may I suggest you subtract all of the 480, and then give yourself 1000 at least for your life to date in Italy. Subtract points for: gift of flight, dodging a marital bullet, tolerant waiter, literary tragedy that helps put lost love - and youth - in perspective, the man leering at the port who found you at least mildly attractive, the napkin man who was graceful without being importunate, having parked your butt in La Fenice opera house which had burnt to the ground in 1996 but had been rebuilt just so that you could sit there (apt metaphor?). I may have missed a few of the other things you mentioned or that were implied, but I know for a fact you must have traveled, on that first journey, through a myriad of amazing landscapes, and treated yourself to at least one gelato, perhaps a prosecco, maybe an evening or two of stargazing.

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Cheryl A. Ossola's avatar

Lovely! And who's counting, accurately or not? Still, I think I have to subtract those 1,000 points; adding them would mean SO MUCH MISERY!

Oh, drat, your mention of La Fenice makes me realize I'll have to add another book to this post: City of Falling Angels by John Berendt. Read it if you haven't!

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Vian's avatar

Read it a few years ago. A wonderful book because, the man carelessly slides away from this main focus and gives us so much more about the city of Venice. But his is a book of morsels compared to John Julius Norwich's History of Venice. A more evocative read: The Midwife of Venice by Roberta Rich, who like me comes from Vancouver, Canada. Ah books! The first copies of my new book will arrive from the printers should arrive today and I am sitting in the wee hours of the morning feeling quite chuffed about it. Say not a word.

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Stacey Eskelin's avatar

That’s a LOT of misery points. Non-misery points (which we should subtract from your grand total) for not having cheap meaningless sex to get even with the Boomerang, may he rot in hell.

Italy treats single women differently. When I go out with John, I have a context. Alone, I’m either ignored or stared at. So, no, it’s not your imagination.

Hearts do heal. When I met John ten years ago, I’d gone five full years solo and single-momming because my heart was THAT broken. Now, of course, I can’t even remember why I liked the heartbreaker in the first place.

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