The Infamous Visa

Here we are 5 months from when we started the visa process and it's still going on. At this point, it is almost a lost cause, but Kevin and I keep plugging away just to prove a point. I've talked to a lot of North American wives who have husbands on various teams in Italy and not one of them has a visa. It is virtually impossible!

Right now we are still applying for my nulla osta, which is a piece of paper that basically verifies that my husband is on a work contract in Italy and that he is responsible for me while I am here. 16 days ago we submitted Kevin's paperwork to verify his address and we were told that someone would be by in 12-14 days to check out our apartment to find out if it is suitable for two people. Let me just say that this is outrageous considering the office is within walking distance to our apartment, but what is even more annoying is that no one ever came by. We got a text message from the team's immigration guy and apparently the office will okay the apartment paperwork if we can get a copy of our landlord's (the hotel owner's) ID card. So basically they wasted 16 days of our time that we could have spent moving on in our visa process.

The fact that the Italian visa process is ridiculous or that the people that work in these offices seem bothered that you ask them to actually work really pisses me off. But something that also bothers me is that when you go into one of these bigger towns, there are slews of African men selling fake Prada purses on the side of the road. Last weekend, I went with some friends to Bolzano and I can honestly say we probably saw 50 vendors (in a rather small area) trying to sell us a wide assortment of things. There is no way in hell that these guys are legal, working men. But if they are, what does that say about the Italian visa process? Women whose husbands are legally working in Italy have no right to a visa. Yet, African men selling fake purses in the streets and harassing people to buy them can stay as long as they like.

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Don't get me wrong, I get it that these men have to work. But seriously, who is going to buy a Prada purse from a guy who is also selling studded belts, stuffed monkeys, and lighters? No thank you, but I will buy your visa off of you.

Domani

I'm writing this post from my makeshift office in the locker room of the Vipiteno Broncos. It smells of hockey gear and sweat and I'm pretty sure I'm going to smell like it when I get home. We are on Day 4 of no internet at the apartment and I might be losing my mind if we don't get it soon. We talked to the hotel about our problem and they informed us that it was out there too and that they called someone to come out and fix it. In the States, they would send someone to fix it within a day or two. But in Italy, everything is 'domani' (or tomorrow). I'm betting we won't have it until early next week (at the earliest), but I'm really hoping I am wrong.

At least in the States, you can go to the nearest Starbucks or Barnes & Noble and connect to their Wi-Fi. Or you can pass time by watching television. These are not options here in our little Italian town of 6,000 people. I've been passing time by working out and napping, but I would much rather be catching up on my episodes of Jersey Shore and New Girl.

I don't mean to sound dramatic, but the internet is my lifeline. It is my connection to America! It is my phone, my television, and my cookbook. Without it, I am lost. I sure hope it comes back soon!

Extreme sledding!

Sledding at Rosskopf is nothing like sledding at The Illinois State Fair Grounds. Here you take the gondola to the top of the mountain and then make your way down 10km to Vipiteno (the longest course in Italy). From what I saw yesterday, I'm starting to think sledding is more dangerous than skiing.

We all escaped unscathed except Sergei who has a bruised shoulder, a scraped nose, and a cut arm. He thought he would be daring and go down one stretch on his stomach. Unfortunately, he ended up over the side and met a tree (his words). When Kevin told me he saw him go over, I thought he was lying. And when Marina made it to us, she didn't believe Kevin either. Kevin thought maybe Sergei was playing around and was going to hit us with snowballs, but then we saw Sergei's hat get thrown up on the course from over the side. I felt bad taking a picture, but I had to capture the moment.

Kevin giving Sergei a helping hand.

Here are a few more pictures and a video of our sledding adventure. It was so much fun!

The weather was perfect.

Team Latvia

You really start picking up speed when you go down.

Team USA

Enjoying some post sledding Spritz.

Pizza with a Side of Profanity

Sunday night, Kevin and I took Marina and Sergei to the "best pizza place in Vipiteno." We were sitting next to a table with about eight people and another table with three guys. We all ordered our drinks and pizza and were talking when the three guys started getting louder and louder. You could tell they were drunk as they sloppily shoveled their spaghetti in their mouths. They were cussing and laughing so loudly it was started to get annoying, but we ignored them and dove into our pizzas once they were delivered.

Fast forward about 20 minutes to when we were finished and it was just us in the room with the three guys. Sergei and I were debating on ordering coffee and I noticed that one of the guys was getting louder and louder and I was pretty sure he was talking about us. It was kind of obvious considering he kept motioning towards us and was using the word "Yankees" (which is almost funny considering Marina and Sergei are Latvian). Finally, the guy got up and as he was passing us he called us "F#*king Hillbillies" so we all knew for sure he was talking about us.

We were trying to figure out what provoked us to be attacked in a pizzeria by a drunk asshole...and then we put it together. The waitress had brought Marina a box to take her pizza home in because she didn't even eat half of it. Marina didn't ask for the box; the waitress just brought it. He was mad because we were taking our food home with us. He came back to the table and the yelling and cussing continued and he added the word "McDonald's" into his ranting along side "Yankees," "Hillbillies," and "F#*k."

How is Marina supposed to finish a pizza that weighs more than her?

We kept our cool, finished our coffee, and got the hell out of there but not without Kevin giving them a parting "F#*k You!"

So the moral of the story...don't get a box from a pizzeria when you are sitting next to a drunk asshole.

Our Latvian Guests

Our friends, Marina and Sergei, arrived on Wednesday from Latvia and we are so excited to have them here. It has been four years since we've seen each other when the guys played together in Fort Wayne. Thanks to Facebook and Skype, Marina and I have stayed in contact over the years and I was thrilled when she told me they were going to come for a visit.

Unfortunately, Marina and Sergei ran into some trouble on the way here and had one of their bags stolen at the rental car place in Milan. As they were getting in their car, a woman came up to them to ask them where the rental office was and in the 20 seconds they were talking to her, her 'partner in crime' stole one of their bags they had set directly behind them. By the time they realized what happened, it was too late. What is wrong with people?

After they counted their losses, which included a GPS, camera, phone chargers, underwear, and Sergei's homework for school, they made the 3 hour drive to Vipiteno. We spent the night catching up and having drinks. Thursday, we hit up the outlet malls and Kevin's hockey game.

Yesterday, we decided to go to Innsbruck to watch the Youth Olympic Games. We were excited to see the ski jumping competition, but once we got into Innsbruck and saw the weather, we had a feeling it was cancelled (and it was). After sliding down the hillside and almost getting stuck, we thought it would be better to check out an event that was played indoors. When we got to the stadium, speed skating was going on so we caught the end of it, but no Lativan or Americans were competing in the finals. We made our way inside and found out women's hockey was going on so we checked it out for awhile. Kazakhstan was playing Sweden in the semi-finals. We only stayed for one period because it was painful to watch. The final score ended up being 11-0 with Sweden outshooting Kazakhstan 74-1.

The boys are excited for some women's hockey.

We will spend today in Bolzano shopping, meeting up with friends, and watching the hockey game. Hopefully the weather cooperates with us.

In the last week!

Last week, the coaches decided to take a look at the scheduling because some of them were working weeks straight without a day off. In honesty, I can probably count on both my hands the number of days that Kevin has had off since I arrived two months ago. And that includes his time off for Christmas, New Year's, and two hockey breaks (for the pro team).

This past week they decided to give Kevin two days off and we wanted to take full advantage of our time. On Tuesday, we decided to head to Innsbruck to do some shopping to get ready for our guests coming this week. Our first stop was IKEA and as we were pulling in, I pointed out a guy that looked a lot like one of our roommates a few years ago. Well, Kevin didn't agree with me, but he did think the guy's friend looked familiar. After we parked the car, we started walking towards IKEA and the two guys. The one guy called out Kevin's name and as we moved closer, Kevin realized that he played hockey with the guy six years ago in Phoenix. Apparently, the guy is playing hockey in the second league in Italy (about 2 hours from us) and was in Innsbruck for a few days hanging out. How random is that? Seriously, what are the chances that we would be in Innsbruck, at the IKEA, at the exact same time (when neither of us live there)? It's nuts!

Moving on...our shopping day was a success. We got tons of good smelling candles for the apartment and this is a big deal because they are hard to come by in Italy. I got two dresses; one, I am planning on wearing for my cousin's rehearsal dinner in June so I don't have to worry about that anymore. And we loaded up on taco and fajita seasoning, which you can't find in our town.

Kevin's other day off was Sunday (yesterday) and we spent that on the ski slopes. We woke up bright and early, got bundled up, and drove the whole two minutes to the gondola that would take us up the mountain. Instead of ski school, we opted for a private lesson for me from Stefano. Luckily, I had met him a few times previously because he is friends with some of the guys on the hockey team and a bonus is he speaks English pretty well.

My lesson got started on the exercise track and I managed to stay on my feet the whole time. I also warned Stefano during this time that a lot of cuss words would be flying out of my mouth so he shouldn't be shocked. After about 20 minutes, he thought we were ready to conquer the blue course (I did not agree) and we hopped on the lift. We chatted as we were up there and it never occurred to me until we were almost to the course that I had no idea how the hell to get off the lift. Do I jump? Do I fall? Oh no...apparently, I have to ski. But I don't know how to do that...that's why I'm taking a lesson! Well, it was pretty disastrous. Stefano gave me a 1-2-3 count, I stood up, and started sliding forward and down, but couldn't stop. But don't worry, I was caught before I fell.

We continued down the blue course with a couple breaks in between. Three and four-year-old kids flew past me and made me even more embarrassed than I already was. About half way down, I couldn't feel my legs anymore so I told Stefano my legs were like jello, which he didn't understand. My right leg had atrophy, my left leg wouldn't do what I wanted it to do, and my brain was on overload. Luckily, we made it to the bottom of the course (it only took us 45 minutes) and Stefano gave my report to Kevin. Apparently, I did a great job (yeah right, you liar), but I need more lessons (thanks Captain Obvious). At that point, I was done skiing and wanted to sit for a bit. Kevin and I grabbed a coffee and then I let him ski for a while longer before we headed home. All-in-all, it was fun, but hard work. But I look forward to getting back out there once my legs feel normal again.

To Ski or Not to Ski!

Kevin and I went and got fitted for our ski equipment the other day and I still haven't figured out if I'm more scared or excited. I'm actually losing sleep at night thinking about it. Why? Because I'm a 29-year-old woman who has never been skiing in her life. Hell, it took me 5 minutes to figure out how to get the boots on during the fitting. Kevin still can't get over the fact that I've never been and so far, everyone I've told looks at me like I'm crazy.

I was born and raised in central Illinois where you can see ten miles down the road in every direction. We get snow, but very little and very sporadically. In any given December, it will be 60°F one day and then 20°F the next. In Springfield, you'll even have a hard time finding a hill to go sledding on.

In addition to not having the environment or landscape for skiing, I didn't have time as a kid to go. As a gymnast for 14 years, my weekends were spent at meets with my mom and my dad was either with us or at work. Our family vacations were usually spent in a city where I had a meet (my poor brother and sister) and we never went on vacations in the winter. So, when and where exactly was I supposed to fit in some ski trips?

Kevin definitely has more faith in my athletic ability than I do because he thinks I will catch right on and be a 'skier' by the end of the year (yeah right). I, on the other hand, am not so optimistic. I'm pretty sure I'm going to face plant in the snow on more than one occasion. My only goal is to get off the slopes without a broken bone.

This will be me in a few days.

Kevin has suggested I YouTube some skiing videos to help me learn the basics. But I bet you can guess what I won't be doing. Instead, I've opted to go to Ski School for 2 hours with the kids. I don't care that I'll be the oldest person there or that someone is probably going to have to help me get dressed. If it will help me avoid an ambulance, sign me up.

Introducing Blue Ivy!

I told myself I wasn't going to blog about the arrival of Jay-Z and Beyonce's baby, but I couldn't resist when I got online this morning and saw the pictures that 50 Cent posted to his Twitter.

Thanks for the laugh!

I also must note that I'm not a fan of the name, Blue Ivy. It sounds like something out of a comic book. I just don't get it. But one thing is certain...a new trend of naming your kids after a color is going to follow.

Love It!

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What Holiday?

Kevin has been super busy lately with hockey games, practices, and tournaments. He's been at the rink for at least 12 hours every day this week so today we were excited to have a morning/afternoon to hang out. Since there was a game last night (and they won), we decided we'd start our day by sleeping in, do a little grocery shopping (because we have no food), make a big breakfast, and then grab a coffee or something before he had to be at the rink.

Well apparently today is a holiday...and nothing is open. So I started thinking to myself, what holiday is on January 6? I came up blank until I remembered the other wife telling me that the Christmas Market here closes on the Epiphany, which is celebrated on January 6 here in Italy.

I was born and raised Catholic and like to think I have a pretty good grasp on the Catholic religion and its teaching so I feel horrible not knowing what the Epiphany is and when it is celebrated. When we got home from driving around doing nothing, I decided I'd Google 'Epiphany.' For those of you, like me, who have no idea what the Epiphany is, let me help you out. The Epiphany celebrates God's revealing or manifesting of Jesus' identity as true God, Messiah, and Savior of the world. It not only commemorates the fact that Jesus appeared to save us, but that God revealed the identity of Jesus to the world.

From what I've read, the Epiphany ranks right up there with Christmas and Easter. The more I find out, the more I feel like we should have some type of special meal/feast to celebrate today. But since the grocery stores are closed, we will have to settle for macaroni and cheese and sandwiches. Our feast will have to wait until next year.

2013 Feast for the Epiphany.

Eww, Gross!

When I got to Italy, I made a few goals and I've done a pretty good job of sticking to them. My driving is 100 times better. I can make it around town no problem and can even drive on the autobahn. I'm getting better with hills and inclines, but I still roll back quite a bit. I'll never understand why the drivers behind me have to get right on my ass though. For the most part, I've covered all the bases and can tackle everything except for driving in new places. I can't concentrate on driving, reading the road signs, and pay attention to the other drivers all while trying to find my way around. I'm hoping by the time we have visitors in March, I'm a pro at driving a stick and can navigate and drive at the same time.

The goal I've paid the least amount of attention to is learning German. I was really putting in a effort early on and was proud of myself. I know most of the common greetings and can count to 100. I'm also pretty good with the colors and food items (fruits/vegetables). But I still just stare at people when they ask me a question. I know I'm not going to be fluent by the end of May, but I still want to be able to order food correctly and ask where something is located. I'm going to get back to my old ways and start doing a lesson everyday. What else do I have to do?

Well, on to the working out goal. I've been going to the gym at least four times a week. When I started going, I could only run for ten minutes and after I was finished, I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. Now I've worked my way up to 40 minutes of running. I try to have two running days and two cross training days. On running days, I also work on my arms and chest and on cross training days, I focus on my legs and abs. We don't have a scale so I have no idea how much I weigh, but my pants are a bit baggier and I like to think I'm looking a little tighter. I always tell Kevin to feel my muscles, but he just laughs at me, but I'm telling you, I can see them.

So, why is this post called "Eww, Gross," you ask? Because this working out bit is really taking its toll on my feet. The nails on my toes (the ones next to my big ones) have really been hurting. I didn't think it was a big deal until today when I decided to take my polish off. I was in for an UGLY surprise! My toenails are black. And if that wasn't enough, one of my big toenails is cracked in half.

These are not my feet (I think they belong to a man), but they give you a pretty good idea of what mine look like.

I did a little research this morning and apparently, this is a common problem with runners. When you run, your feet swell up to a whole size bigger causing your toenails to push against the front of your shoe. Your toenails then become bruised and blistered underneath and eventually, your toenails will fall off. What? I know they say "beauty is pain," but no one ever said anything about losing my toenails. The obvious solution...buy your running shoes a size bigger.

I've decided to take the day off today to give my poor toenails a rest, but I'll be back at it tomorrow and I'm really hoping my toenails hold on a few more days until I can get some new, bigger shoes.

Happy New Year!

Thank you for the quote, Neil Gaiman.