Dreams in Italian -- just in time!

So, in Elizabeth Gilbert's possibly ubiquitous chick-empowerment novel, Eat, Pray, Love, she talks about how, after living in Italy for several months, one magical day, the clouds parted and angels sang*, and she noticed her brain had finally made the switch to not only speaking in Italian, but thinking in Italian as well. During these past 5 months, I kept lamenting, in my Dark Norwegian way, how I would not experience said parting clouds and singing angels, since I was 1) mostly hanging around English-speaking Americans, and 2) constantly abandoning Turin to have a Guinness in Ireland or a bike ride in Bulgaria.

And yet! I just now realized I had a somewhat incomprehensible dream last night about buying some espadrilles in some resort-y Italianate town, and then talking to the lady, entirely a Italiano about the adjustments I needed (seems the straps were too long?), and how my friends were on the boat waiting for me. (A boat? Where? What friends? Were they speaking Italian too?? I told you it was incomprehensible.)

So yay, now I kind of know what she was talking about. Good thing I have a whole 13 days left in this country to practice my oh-so-fluid Italian. Though on the other hand (the non-sinister one maybe?), turns out our visa is actually for 166 days PLUS ONE HOUR! Whew-ee! That's an increase of .02635 per cent, or so!


*Editor's note: not a direct quote -- more of an "artist's interpretation" of said passage. :-)