It won't stop Raining!

Stepping out the door this morning, I was shocked to feel a drop of rain hit my forehead. It's been raining for the past 3 days straight, now. It rained a lot last week, too. I figured that we've gotten enough rain, and it should have stopped by now, bu it just keeps falling.

In school today, I did nothing. Really. I hung out in the library for a few hours, since I have yet to change my schedule to fill up the hours where I used to have tutoring. It wasn't bad, though, hanging out in the library. The library is really small, but warm and cozy, and the librarian is my favorite person in the school. We talk about our lives, and she alwasy seems genuinely interested in what I do, and how I'm feeling, which is nice.

This morning I didn't have time to make myself lunch, so after school, I bought a panino. The school's paninos are really good, and only 80 cents, so I get them every once in a while. I began my walk to the gym, in the rain, eating my panino. As I walked down the street, I noticed a car parked on the sidewalk (they do that a lot here) and a girl with an umbrella running towards me. It was Sara, a girl from the first-year class. She lives in the same town as I do, and offered me a ride home, so I didn't have to walk in the rain. I wasn't going home, so I thanked her and refused, but I thought it was really nice of her to offer.

I have to say that the first year students are by far the nicest of all the classes. Sure, the other classes are friendly, but there's something about the first year kids that's really open. They haven't become too socially conscious yet, and that makes me like them. In one class, a boy was nervous during an interrogation, and he started to cry. The other students comforted him, and we got on with the interrogation. Would that happen in the older classes? Sadly, I don't think so.

Anyway, halfway to the gym, I decided to take a detour to the post office. My mom sent me packages a week ago, and I looked online, and FedEx says it takes about a week for stuff to ship from the US to Italy. Last time my mom sent me something, I didn't pick it up in time, and it got sent back to the US, which I really don't want to happen again. I got into the post office, took my number, and waited 5 or 10 minutes. When it was my turn, I went up to the desk, just to ask if the man could check for me. He was confused, because I didn't have the little paper the post man leaves to tell you you have a package. Somehow, the man, who was actually very helpful, realized I live in Cassano, and he told me there was another post office in Cassano that I have to go to. Oops. I thanked him, and as I turned away from the desk, a woman came up and said, in English "Do you need some help?" I smiled and said "No, grazie!" and went on my way. Italians are helpful people, in general. My host parents often give me directions that include "when you see the.. ask someone, and they'll tell you."

I left the post office, and started the journey back to the gym. The streets in Gallarate are old. There are lots of pot holes, thus, when it rains, there are lots of puddles. I had forgotten the phenomenon of trucks creating walls of water when they pass through puddles, and I was reminded of it today. When I got to the gym, I, my backpack, purse, and gym bag, were all completely, totally soaked. I was a mess. I changed into my work out clothes, which were slightly drier than the bag they were in, and worked out a little. After I was finished, my pants were still wet, so I hung them on the hooks on the wall, and started drying them with the hair dryer. Usually, I have the gym all to myself, but a woman walked in, and looked a little shocked to see what I was doing. Oh well, they were wet, and I didn't want to wear wet pants all day.

After the pants were dry, I put them on, and walked outside to wait for Nonna, who was coming to pick me up. We returned to her house, where I dried out a little more by the fire, and we had a nice conversation. Well, not exactly nice, as it was about death. We talked about her mother, who died a few years back. She told me that it was her mother's time to go, and that death is a part of life, but I could tell she was holding back tears. I felt a little sad, so I changed the subject, and we talked for another hour about ragù.

Chicca came to pick me up from Nonna's house, and we went to pick up Matteo, then we came home. I've discovered that my room is the coldest room in the house. I went into my room, put on another sweather (right now I'm wearing a polo, a long sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, and a fleece), curled up in the blankets on my bed, and red. Chicca called me for dinner, which was tortellini in broth, perfect for this cold, rainy weather. I skipped the meat course, and went straight to salad, of which I ate a copious amount. In Italy, we eat our salad with olive oil, vinegar, and salt. Try it sometime, it's actually really good.

Tomorrow, I have some classes that should be interesting, which I'm looking foreward to. I'm also waiting with baited breath for my mom's packages! Please pray that they get here safely, quickly, and that they don't get sent back home!