Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Ciao Bella, Italian leather fine enough to rub against your cheek. Just watch out for the buckle.

Part 1.
I was married in Firenze, Italia.

Yes, really.

We had to have witnesses, so we paid a guy with a camera to A. take pictures- but use MY camera, and B. act as our witness.

The other mandatory witness was a lady who worked in the Italian Consulate and happened to follow us over. She was very good with large hand gestures, but spoke no English. During the civil ceremony she stared at me the whole time from the sidelines and murmured, "Bella. Bella. Bella."

Whether she was talking about me, the Switzerland thrift shop dress, or the whole idea of Americans getting married in La Sala Rossa in the Palazzo Vecchio, I will never know.

( this is the room and the chairs and art and the chandelier- but we didn't have any guests, and this isn't us, and I'm pretty sure this bride did not buy her dress for 17 Swiss francs at a thrift store with her travel buddies that she just met in Salzburg and had been drinking wine with all day. No, I am certain of that.)

I do know that I still have the shoes (Wait for PART 2 ) that I wore that day- and they are nowhere near as comfortable as these Italian beauties.
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