The Vultures and The Models

Even though it's considered to be a huge business center of Italy, Milan does not show much enthusiasm for the English language nor anything else of foreign concern. I have not met a soul from the States and I've come to realize I am so lucky to have a Canadian roommate (the girl from Germany left - more on that later) that speaks English; regardless, I am getting by with a combination of Italian and Spanish. 

I actually lied earlier, Italian men are all over foreign American girls and they're definitely concerned about getting them to the bars. The worst kind of places to be cornered by men are in the supermarkets and on buses because it gives them the opportunity to flat out stare (I've stared straight at one guy for at least three minutes before he looked away) and leer at you while you're attempting to read Italian food labels and get off at the right bus stops. Fortunately, there are ways out of this; for example, in the candy isle today, I screamed "SONO GAY!" (it means exactly what you think it does) at one man that resembled Chewbacca who was calling to me like a dog. Seriously? 

I only arrived in Milan three days ago yet it seems so much longer. One of my roommates, the German girl, left yesterday to go back home because she couldn't take this lifestyle anymore. And that is only one example of the challenges of having model friends. 

Loneliness aside, my daily routine is somewhat monotonous. I leave my flat before castings with enough time to get lost and have ten minute long conversations asking for directions with Italians that don't speak English, for fun of course. The castings are the interesting part. They are either closed or open, meaning the booker specifically sends 1-2 girls from the agency or sends a handful. At the castings themselves, there might be 10 girls or there might be 25, all with razor sharp cheekbones and skyscraper legs, speaking all languages and from all over the world, but the funny thing is, most are too timid to talk or prefer glaring over speaking. To each their own.

Also- America, you are so blessed. I can't get access to Hulu, Netflix, or even illegal streaming. Except for last night, I found a link for the Hannah Montana Last Song movie, and I actually watched it. 

(obligatory moody model/blogger photo; pictured on my wall: Luna the cat from Sailor Moon because I love that show, Gemma Ward, a sign that quotes "Not all those who wander are lost")