The Aly

In the words of Paul Krugman, “If the election of our first African-American president didn’t stir you, if it didn’t leave you teary-eyed and proud of your country, there’s something wrong with you.”

word in the streets

In Italian time it’s November 4th, so bear with me.  Actually, if you look at the second hand on your watch while standing within the boarders of Florence, you can actually see time moving slower – it’s fascinating.  It would be difficult to explain the feeling I had when I went to sleep at 4am the night of the 4th – a cross between extreme nausea and total euphoria.  But I’ll spare you more details; those of you watching the contest probably felt either both…or just the nausea.

the Boulder Bubble, Popped

My Mom and I went out in search of a watch party on election night.  We both had a mixed bag of Italian words, monuments and landmarks written down that would supposedly lead us to a “Democrats Abroad” gathering with CNN.  My love for the scavenger hunt was really tested that night as we traipsed around for 2 hours all decked out in our get-on-CNN-clothes: myself in a young-Jackie O.-meets-sun-in look and my Mom in an American-living-in-Italy “see my new tall boots!” look.  The two of us were fit to be on TV…we even had our Obama buttons on, handmade by a real American Union!

Our compilation of directions led us to the Ponte Vecchio and then over to the American Embassy.  We were supposed to look for a big tent, “just go to blah, blah, blah* and you will see the tent.”  After deciphering the directions we decided that CNN was somewhere between the US embassy and the Opera House.  We seemed it likely that if there were a party, certainly the US embassy would be at the center of it!  Oh, how wrong we were.  As we walked along the Arno on that dark Tuesday night our eyes played tricks on us.  “I see it!  I see something…is that something?  Do you see anything?”  Yes…that would be total darkness…and a man with a rifle.  The US embassy is indeed, heavily fortified.  And as one could probably have guessed initially, the US embassy was not throwing a Democrats Abroad watch party.  So we walked all the way back to the apartment and I treated myself to a (second) bottle of wine while hitting the refresh button on my computer a hundred times.  We heard later that there was in fact a (really fun!) watch party but it was at the opposite corner of Florence.

I kept my eyes peeled to the screen watching the blue add up.  It was incredible…whomever you voted for – it was incredible.  And hurray for Colorado (my Alma Mater being CU Boulder)!  The Boulder bubble finally infiltrated the rest of the state!

We finally got word of a victory party on that Friday.  At a club, literally 50 ft. from our apartment (I can wear my 3” heals!) there was to be a gathering of Obama supporters sponsored by Democrats Abroad.  The pizzeria next door was involved too, providing food for the hungry expats.  It was there that I believe the chef may have either fallen in love with myself, my Mom or the two of us “sisters” as we were called, because our pizza came out in the shape of a heart.  Not an experience I have ever had at Dominoes.  But we were not to be won over that night; no, we had some celebrating to do.

a first

Donkey Stamped

We wandered into the club, after getting donkey stamped at the door by the bouncer and bought “Americans living in Italy for Obama” gear.  The next few hours definitely rivaled the coolest Bar Mitzvah I had ever been to.  Everyone was just SO excited.  It was a marvelous event to be a part of.  The room was filled with expats, Italians for Obama and Italians that wanted to see what a room full of middle-aged Democrats dancing to the Village People looked like.  We danced and drank all night long to an Italian DJ that had compiled a mix of the greatest dance music of all time, that which can be heard at any US Bar Mitzvah from coast to coast.  We did everything short of the Hora.  The music was synced with a video he put together that took us on a tour of American pop culture starting with the 60s, getting mildly stuck on the 80s, hovering in the 90s and ending with an overlay of Obama’s victory speech.  It was brilliant.

Obama Victory Party – Firenze, Italia from the ALY on Vimeo.

Americans in Italy for Obama

Every day since then I have chosen to celebrate in my own way which consists of desert with every meal (even breakfast number 2!) and purchases in the leather markets – my most recent acquisition being a pair of Italian leather boots…I mean I must enter the new era with a good pair of shoes, right?

*A word on “blah, blah, blah.” The Italians have somehow picked up on this American phrase that is, quite frankly, rarely ever used in the English language.  I mean, when is the last time you heard someone say out loud (not just in your head), “blah, blah, blah?”  It is the strangest thing.  My Italian teacher says it all the time- someone who is perfectly fluent in English, “read this, recite that and then…blah, blah, blah.”  It’s almost like a Seinfeldism  – phrases that became mainstream from the TV show (although I have no idea where blah, blah, blah could have come from).  “Circle the correct verb, underline the noun and then…yada, yada, yada.”