So I am very excited because I am now going to go to FLORENCE ITALY for 2-3 weeks in November with my friend Joi, both to research my fourth novel, by which I just mean become intimately familiar with the city in a gorgeously Dantesque fashion, and to be generally jetsettingly fabulous. We are going to find a crumbly b&b that is overhung with plants and haunted by ghosts, with whom we will commune in both Italian and Latin, and we may also take a short trip to VENICE, as well as spend a day or two in SICILY, and even possibly wing our glamorous way to BERLIN, which I believe is a city after my own heart. We may also rent a car for a day and wrap scarves around our heads and commune with nature, not to mention find abandoned farmhouses filled with secrets and ancient wine cellars. My father was going to come but his trip to Austria was postponed and so now my mother, father, sister and I are going to take a big Italy trip next May, at which point I can tearfully and dramatically reunite with the many paramours whose hearts I will have broken in November. The end.