I've been writing for a long time so you'd think I'd be better at it. I started out keeping a journal and writing short stories about my life like that time a bum stabbed me with a spork on the bus, or the time I was sort-of kidnapped, or the time my mom told me about my "mostly" immaculate conception. Then I moved to Italy and started to blog about living abroad and being foreign. It's kind of like the first day of kindergarten every day. Then I married an Italian man and I write about miscommunication and how he calls sheets "shits" and beaches "bitches", and that time his mom ironed my thongs, or that time he chased me around a piazza with a guitar after we had a fight. Welcome to M.E. in Italy.