LET US EAT CABBAGE

Another successful day at school.  I am in a book arts class with a former or possibly still active lesbian and feminist.  The class is technically a printmaking and book arts class but it seems as though we are going to be making a lot more books than printmaking which is good because we get to learn how to make 12 different kinds of books (who knew there were so many possibilities) I didn't know this (a little history lesson for the day) but book arts is a rather new form of artistic expression that started after World War II and there is much controversy over the true definition of books arts (go allison for remembering something at 9:30 in the morning...boo yeah!) After book arts the Gorilla and I FINALLY went to the market to get food.  We went to a market down the street that is in a two story building that actually feels like a human refrigerator.  Local farmers have little stands throughout the building and as a bonus it is a lot less expensive than going to the regular pre-packaged grocery store.  Before I tell this story, keep in mind that this is a. the first time that the Gorilla and I have gone to the market and b. we don't speak Italian. Prior to coming to the market we even made a beautiful grocery list of all the things we needed to get in order to seem cool (just like our mommies). Lettuce, tomatoes, bananas, potatoes, coffee, pasta, tuna, and tomato sauce. We stopped at the first station because it looks good (they all look good but we just convince ourselves that this one was the best for lettuce..another station was good for tomatoes and so on..we are to blend in...no stupid Amuuurican behaviors) We look at a couple heads of "green" vegetables that we believe are lettuce. We wanted iceburg because we assumed it would be less expensive.  We this see barrel of beautifully crisp lettuce (and by crisp I mean it was so crisp that it was even a little waxy) We instantly buy two heads of it because it was so beautiful.  When she handed it to us, I felt the texture, and sure enough that beautiful crisp texture that I was ooohing and ahhing over negative two seconds ago...was...well yeah...cabbage!  With two heads of cabbage and the Gorilla and I head to the next station for lettuce (the next station was a success!) So it looks like I am going to have to learn how to make cabbage soup (everyone knows that I am the last person in the world that needs to be eating cabbage soup...cabbage soup has high flatunce factors if you didn't know!) In the afternoon I had my first photography class here and my teacher is also on the lesbian/feminist bandwagon but she is 4ft tall, 50 years old,  with a huge nose ring (not like a simple stud, an actual ring) and ear lopes that hang to her shoulder because she loves Indian jewelry.  On top of being completely insane (but wonderful) she is also still stuck in the 60's, loves fallac symbols and saying "yeah". I am really excited for this class because she digs experimental photography, and so do I.  After class at 7 pm the Gorilla and I made our first dinner: gnocci, spinach, and homemade tomato sauce (and by that I mean they only sell tomato paste so we added our own seasoning...but it is kind of the same and a big deal) It was so good and I felt so proud to make such a delicious Italian cuisine.  We went out with Chatty and Kathy to this bar called BeBop.  On Tuesday nights, they have a Beetles cover band.  My entire program took over the bar plus a surprisingly good mixture of Italian men out on the prowl to reel in their bait. We got there a little late, so we had to sit in the way back of the bar where we couldn't even hear the band but it ended up being a blessing because I think a lot of people were trying to make babies on the dance floor (not really but close to it).  I didn't even know that you could get freaky to the Beetles.  People were bumping and grinding to "I Want To Hold Your Hand"...it was a sight to see. My roommate even ended up dancing on the stage apparently.  We ended up getting our own table in the back and decided that it was way more fun than feeling someone's yellow submarine .  We met a group of Italian boys that were actually quite attractive and they joined us in our booth.  They didn't speak English very well and lord knows that with only one day of Italian class down, knowing how to count to ten created a bit of a cultural barrier. Regardless, we both tried, however the Italians were much better at English. All of the sudden one of the boys started asking us questions about how to say certain things in English and what they meant. For some reason this boy said something like "Do you know how to...?" (the rest of us homosapians could not hear him but the Gorilla has Gorilla ears so obviously she heard him. She replied "Wait did you say chug?" He did not understand but then again the Gorilla knew what she was doing and thought he understood her. The poor Italian guy was so confused and he replied "Chug?" and the Gorilla goes "Yeah Chug!!" She grabs his beer and chugs the whole thing.  She turned to him, empty glass at hand and goes "Do you understand now?" Even more confused and slightly pissed off, he goes "No" and I believe he walked away. (this was the first time I felt bad for an Italian man but it was hilarious!) Tomorrow I am going to ask our Italian teacher how to say chug and then right after class I am going to buy the Gorilla a hearing aide.