a tratti più romantico

Well, I knew this was going to come out eventually, but I’ve held off revealing it as long as I could. I wouldn’t want you to think I’ve ever been accused of being a romantic. I mean, if I weren’t the very soul of practicality I would never subtitle my blog “in search of a dream to call home,” would I? No.

It’s all Tony’s fault, actually. A couple of weeks ago he sent me a Youtube video of a certain Italian singer. And since then I have listened to that certain Italian singer for at least seven straight hours every day (not counting all the hours at night when his songs are still playing in my head).

Luckily, Tony doesn’t mind me being obsessed with a rock star, even a hot Italian rock star with the voice of an angel who writes the most romantic songs in the world. In fact, he’s (almost) as obsessed as I am. His mother just beat me to the punch yesterday and got Tony all his favorite songs for his birthday (which isn’t for a month; I guess he couldn’t wait). Hey, you have to indulge us a little. We never got to be high school sweethearts. And we fell in love originally in English, not Italian. We have a lot of time to make up, here.

And besides, we have completely disinterested reasons for listening to Luca Dirisio all day long. We’re supposed to be immersing ourselves in Italian. And how will we ever know what to say to each other like proper Italian lovers if Luca doesn’t tell us?

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