Friday, August 14, 2009

[ITALY] Starting Off on the Wrong Foot....

From: Tara Rose Stromberg
To: James Morrison
Date: Tuesday, May 16,2006 15:06:25
Subject: oh do i have a story for you

I hope you got this, since i think you left for LA already
:( i have so much to tell you still, but i think this needs to be explained, because this stroke of luck could only happen to me. i think im beating you in the "im feeling down" game, since the beginning of this trip has been ridiculously laughable and tear-worthy at the same time :P
I have a much better drunk story than your vomiting marathon. this one takes the cake. it's also the reason i didn't write you back right away, which i was going to, before i had to go to the hospital....

So, yesterday morning i had class, and went walking around Florence looking at amazing buildings, and it was hot and sunny, and i bought a coke from a cafe, and picked up some free postcards of new age, sophisticatedly photographed genitalia for chris (i think he'll love it-but which gender should i send???)


And i saw the replicas of "the doors of paradise" and the famo
us basilica dome, and some mad cool houses that were made in the medieval times, and then we were done and i was tired from so much walking and not sleeping for two days straight, so i went back to the villa for a nap (hah, villa makes me sound like a European yuppie) and i missed my orientation about safety. (oh well...)

So when i woke up, my friends all wanted to go out to drink. and me having spent another day in the same clothing with no medication, no luggage, no lens case, and no money, decided that would be spiffy to get wasted and be happy. so we all tried looking for a supermarket to get some vodka and cheap wine. but for some reason, almost everything closes by 8:00, so we wandered around aimlessly dodging crazy Vespa drivers and passing tourists who were at the expensive places, without finding anything.

By 10 we were still sober, until someone handed us a flier that read "ladies night and 5 shots for 5 euro." that seemed good enough for us, even though it brought back memories of the same new york hip hop party scene for desperate teenagers (which it basically was.)

The gang at Amadeus Pub....and our vices: champagne.
Note my condition.

So i drank champagne....and a shot of vodka melon....and another of kamikaze (tasted like fruit loops)...okay then two more...than a sex on the beach vodka.....more champagne...i think at some point red wine...more champagne...and i was getting dizzy and such, but i didnt stop even though i should've, and then we set off with our drunken selves onto the street where public intoxication is illegal.

i am a very loud, odd, clumsy drunk....kinda like i a
m all the time. and we were laughing and having fun spewing random phrases and it was probably quite a sight. and i had quite a time. and it’s going to sound very horrid, and i am so embarrassed, but i peed on a tree cause i couldnt hold it in. ^.^;;;;; and then i decided to run to catch up with people.....and i fell.

My elbow was bleeding and my foot hurt like hell, but we walked allllllll the way back around the whole city, even though i told them we were going the wrong way (i may have been the drunkest, but for some reason my direction sense is better at that point....) and by the time i got back, i was walking on it even though it hurt a bit.

So, this morning. woke up, my foot hurt, walked down my bunk bed ladder on the foot, walked on the foot to bathroom, sat down on toilet, found myself dreaming something weird and having this odd headache as if i were upside down, then opened my eyes to reveal that i was in fact upside down, hanging over the toilet, after fainting. i swear, i sat up and felt as if my stomach and head were going to spew all over the place. so i went into the room and laid down on the tile, and my roommate freaked out, and i just said "i cant walk on my foot, it hurts." and thats why i think i passed out, because it hurt like a mother.

So after lying awake worrying for about two hours more, i called the office and they had somebody take me to the doctor, who charged me 40 euros to tell me i needed an x-ray. i was so petrified that it was broken, i was crying inside. but they took one, and i didnt have a fracture. so now i just have a soft bandage and a nice picture of my foot bones. i should send it to you so you can hang it next to your bed and dream of me at night...

So yea, now i have crutches, and i need to keep using them with the bandage for 7-8 days (though it would have been a month with a hard cast had i broken something). i feel much better now, though my elbow still stings and im tired and i cant fucking walk with crutches because im retarded. i also tried taking a shower without it getting wet, and it was the hardest feat ive ever had to accomplish. and it still got wet. i had to shampoo, condition, and lather on one leg, and swing myself in and out of the shower by the top pole (which was actually kind of fun...)

And that's my story, and it’s much better than throwing up, s
o now you can stop feeling bad about it, because my incident was far dumber and ultimately costly, since i cannot walk or go to my museum sightseeing class thingies because it would drag me around too much. so im a cripple for a week. my first time in europe. way to go tara! i dont know how i do it.

But im still happy to be here, and hope i get better soon so i can go to the beach and walk like a normal human again, and be able to actually get my own food from the dining area. annnnnnnd i got my luggage today, finally. so it’s all good. somewhat....

So i promise now to shut up about me and talk about YOUUUUUU. i hope you're in Cali soaking up some rays and talking about old times with your pals and being all directorially cute and such. did you get my package? im going to send you a letter this week (since i am injured, ill have plenty of time to talk about my battles on the home front and my great sacrifice for freedom and alcohol) and tell you all about my flight adventures (because they're that fun) and how gorgeous this place is, and how all the cars here are fit for only clowns and midgets. like, seriously, the cars are mad small, and crazy drivers, who don’t stop for pedestrians or other cars, in really really narrow streets.


But im veering off again; so i read your last email and it made me feel so much better being in my old smelly clothes. you're such a gifted songwriter....


So you best tell me what your flight was like and what you've been up to! how’s the pre-production going? what did you do before you left? were you really busy? are you gonna sleep on the couch? my room looks like a boarding school out of some old English movie, with cupboards and bunk beds with half circle alcoves.




....And a septic tank. the bathroom has two showers back to back (cause europeans arent ashamed of baring it all in pairs, it seems) but our window and ceilings are huge, and we have shudders that open to a beautiful view of the mountains and Mediterranean circular/cylindrical trees, and Italian rooftops that look Mexican. There's hardly any room for the four of us though, so we have to squeeze in.


Our backyard is basically a gigantic, sprawling green meadow with gar
dens, and a volleyball court surrounded by hedges, an empty pool, and a wandering, friendly cat. it is amazing. and our school house is right across from it, so it’s walking distance. im gonna send you pics.


I want pics of california and of you with your serious film face!

The time difference from new york is like six hours ahead (that is we're ahead)....so im not sure about california.....right now its 8:43 pm over here. i think over where you are its 11:44 am, so that means iiiit's.....a 9 hour difference???? im so not math inclined....

I havent met a mafia dude yet, but then again they all look like mafia dudes.....so perhaps they're just well camouflaged with the rest of them...or they're ALL gangsters....hmmmm...

Okay, well i think ive exhausted you for now with all this writing, and i know you're probably saying enough with the e-mail crappola, and pining for some paper and pen romantic prose, so ill get on that soon. here's my address in case you are dying to write before then (oh, arent you? ^^)
Villa Natalia
#109
Via Bolognese 106
Firenze (Florence), Toscana, IT (Italy) 50139
Wow, it sounds so distinguished. That means you should address to “Tara-the-Redneck-Rose-who’s-really-from-NJ” but actually, then it might not get to me, so no, maybe you shouldn’t.

Hope I hear from you soon RIIIIIIIICK, and you better be enjoying yourself over there and not getting drunk and twisting your foot like I did. ^^ im going to get some rest and unpack and try to figure out clever ways to do everyday things with crutches, like shower. ^^

Have fun and write back soon unless you wanna wait and be lazy and let ME do all the work :P

Goodnight or good morning rather, for you. Miss you molto, e mi piace la fromage.

Tara Rose, aka cripple

***
From: kubrickspielberg@aol.com
Date: Wednesday, May 17 2006, 6:08 PM

Subject: oh do i have a story for you‏


I am sitting at a computer on the main street library here & there are librarian women glaring at me to get off this damn computer, so I'm afraid I'm gonna have to make this somewhat quick.

Did you get your luggage from those thieves of the airways?

I hope so!

Best be careful with that Itlain drunkness, else your likely to wake up with a little half mafia baby on the way!

Poor foot of yours. Give it a hot bath and some cocco to make it better. It'll be alright it time. Feet are strong and made for walking!
Sounds like quite the adventure either way.


I arrived last night in LA & Ian picked me up with my old editor friend, Victor, who I haven't seen in a year now.

It was a nice little reunion. The drive from LA back to Ventura took a good hour or more.
Things are already going to hell in a sort of quiet way to be honest.

Ian seems to be worse and worse on the drugs and such every time I see him. He really just can't go without smoking something or popping some pill every five minutes. I've never seen him like this.

Elsbeth hurt her back very bad & had to go to San Diego for therapy. She will not be able to produce the picture now, or storyboard.

Victor wants to edit it, but he's very busy on some big project he's cutting right now & is no good for production, but will cut it when it's done.

The apartment that Ian has bought is very nice & roomy & in an excellent location to run things out of. It's a fucking mess & there are pipes and weird devices that even I don't know what they are, on the floor, so I've been working on cleaning the place. You should see it. It looks like a true hippy haven, with drug shit everywhere and funky art half hanging on the wall.

Ian is in class now & I am left to wander these old streets I used to live on. I don't like California, I don't know why. It's nice to be here though. I have so many people I have to see & beg once I see them to get them to give me money and help me make this.

That's why I say it's sort of quietly going to hell. We have no producer & am now having to meet kids in upper division classes & talk them into throwing down some money and getting this organized. I'm sure it'll all work out, but since Ian is the only guy on the project right now, and since he seems a bit out of it most the time, I know it's gonna be hard. Meeting with people tonight & should have a producer by Friday, who will set up auditions by the next friday & start shooting very shortly after that.

Got your package and it made me very happy. Thanks so much for the manliest journal I have ever slung around with me. I really needed one. I showed some friends your documentary and they all thought it was great & said you looked like a darling wonderful girl. I told them it was all true.

I'll write you as soon as I can. Next few days are going to be crazy. I'm sure Chris will love any postcards. I don't know which ones. He likes boys, that's all I know. Ian does not have internet, but I will get to it when I can at libraries and such.

Hope the trip is looking up. Miss you.

James

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