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So look who finally rode into town.

Rick called me from the Bari airport and this was our first Italian exchange.

“Ciao bella,” Rick says.

“What the hell Rick? Why didn’t you call me?” I respond.

Rick and I had a piccolo miscommunication. I thought he had international service on his phone. He did not. So when he didn’t call me during his five hour layover in Rome, I was completely, irrationally panicked.

Damn – I just knew there would be some kind of fish food poisoning incident on the flight over. I just knew it. And now I don’t know how to reach him and how the heck do I call the U.S. Embassy and they are totally going to turn this into a Lifetime movie and it will probably be called something like, “The Airline Fish Disaster” or “American Missing in Roma” and sure there will be royalties but I really just want my husband back and –

What? He’s totally fine? Oh, thank goodness. Welcome to Southern Italy honey!! Let me show you around.

Rick is adjusting quite easily to our life on the Adriatic coast. We immediately started introducing him to our possie… like Russ.

Russ is originally from Queens but married a nice Italian girl and now he runs a very popular gelateria here. He even gave me his password for his gelateria’s WiFi as long as I promise not to go on any porn sites. Ok Russ. I’ll really really try. But no promises.

Since Russ seems to be the guy in the know or at least the guy I can understand…. I was curious about something. What do Italians eat when they have a hankering for something other than Italian food?

Like I don’t know… maybe some sushi. Or a bit of pad thai. Or a turkey burger.

Russ says when he gets sick of Italian food, he just eats more Italian food.

Or a couple times a year, he flies back to New York and immediately grabs a corned beef sandwich.

So there you go. That Russ is a wise one. Or a former wise guy. Or perhaps both.

Meanwhile, we are loving each and every ridiculously gorgeous day here.

the fountains…

the piazza…

the tush…

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kelcey kintner