I'm picky about salsa. It needs to be fresh, with a decent amount of cilantro and the juice of a lime squeezed into it before you blend. I like it fairly chunky, although the batch I just made is rather smooth because Elvis likes it that way.

It's important to know when to compromise.

Right now I'm doing the bit where you let it sit so the flavors meld. Then I'll taste it again, and decide whether or not to add another pepper. I like my salsa saucy. Sassy. Hot. Of course, if it's as hot as I like it, there is a whole lotta wailing from everybody else. That's why the wait and see stage is important: I try to make it interesting enough for me, but wimpy enough for everyone else to enjoy it, too. More compromise.

The same spiciness issue applies to my chili. I won't make the chili until tomorrow.

After I'm done with the salsa, I'll make some barbecue sauce for what I refer to as cocktail weenies but are really mini salami-- salamini. While it cooks, I'll put the finishing touches on the hummus and the Turkish eggplant dip, and peel a kilo of carrots and cut them into sticks. I'll save toasting the pita for tomorrow, along with the dip for the crudité. Actually, I would have done the dip today, but they didn't have the fat-free greek yoghurt that I like to use (or any greek yoghurt, for that matter) at the supermarket where I went today. So I'll have to get it tomorrow when I go to Esselunga.

As you might have guessed by now, we're having a party. It was my idea: I just didn't have enough to do with all the sorting and clearing out required to get ready for the movers, plus the ton of other necessary stuff I need to do before we go. Plus, as I've been going through the cupboards, I've noticed that we have a ton of nuts and crackers and various other party friendly food that really needs to get eaten. How, for example, did we end up with eight packets of salamini? How long have those olives been in there? If I arrange these oil packed anchovies attractively on my little dish with the fish on it, will anyone actually eat them? Maybe I'd just better make some bagna cauda.

Oh, and we have two shelves full of liquor. People bring, for example, a bottle of gin to one of my parties, have one or two and switch to wine or beer, and then stroll off, leaving it there. I hate gin, but that's ok, we'll save it for the next one. Except someone else brings another bottle to the next party, opens it up, and... Well, you get the picture.

The movers can only move unopened bottles, so there's a lot of drinking to be done.

Party time!

We went to a going away party last night, for Ian. It was at a nice little Osteria, and we ate in the garden, under an arbor covered in grape vines. The food was good and the weather was perfect. Afterwards, those of us with some serious stamina headed out for a drink in the Brera (at Tommy's other place), and then to the Old Fashion, which is a huge, rambling disco behind the Castello which caters to students and foreigners. You can get in free with a student ID or a passport, although they'll take a Texas drivers license, as I discovered last night. It's a neat place: there's a dance floor inside, and another outside surrounded by big old palazzo arches covered in fairy lights. It's also not too loud, which is a definite bonus considering my poor, aging eardrums.

On Wednesdays, they have booths with information regarding the country of the week, and a free buffet filled with the appropriate food. This week's country was Portugal.

Serendipity.

Elvis and I ended up stopping for one last drink at an Imbiss not far from our house, enjoying the beautiful summer night and the view of the Castello, which is lit up at night.

Until it started to get light out, and we figured out that we really needed to be getting home.

There's another going away party tonight, this one for eight or so people. We don't plan to go. For one thing, we were up until rather early this morning and are very tired. We saw all the people who are leaving last night, and said goodbye then. We're also starting to get tired of going away parties.

Last week I went to three. The week before there were some, too. There are more coming up, many of which will be for us.

In fact, every time I turn around, there seems to be someone else leaving the country. Now, it even looks like Angie and Maggie may be out of here by the end of the summer, although Angie and Bruce plan to tour Europe for a few months before going back to the US for good, so the should be able to come visit us in Lisbon.

In two short weeks, it will be us. We're out of here. We'll miss our friends, and make some new ones that we'll have to say goodbye to at some point in the future.

That's part of the deal. Going away parties are a fact of life for the expat.

We're garnering our fair share of going away parties as well. Besides tomorrow's extravaganza, there's one planned at The Pub, and another at our favorite restaurant. We're going to a small dinner party at the home of an Italian friend who lives outside of Milan on Saturday night, and to a lunch at the home of another village-dwelling Italian on Sunday. Knowing him, a long lunch. There are invites to dinners and lunches and out-for-drinks of all types and sizes.

It's nice to have so many friends.

But it's tiring, too. And I don't know how I'll fit it all in with all the other stuff I need to be doing.

I will, though. I will.

But first, I need to tend to my salsa.