In fact, before too much longer, Elvis will have left the country.

I miss him already.

He's gone to Lisbon for a meeting tonight, and an all-day meeting tomorrow. They are planning for him to be on that project, and the fact that his company (or possibly the client) is paying for him to fly in would seem to be definite proof that we are, indeed, going to move.

Then again, we don't have the assignment papers yet, and even if we did, nothing is ever certain where The Company is concerned. And the Italian Client really, really, really wants him to stay, despite the fact that Elvis really, really, really, really doesn't want to.

Corporate Politics: gotta tolerate it.

So I've been using my enforced "me-time" to work on my tan. In fact, it's developing now, as I type. TanInACan: gotta love it. And I do, although this year's version is a slightly different one for me. It's a mousse, which should avoid the problem of inadvertantly tanning the soles of one's feet from the excess on the bathroom floor that the spray version can cause. We'll have to see what kind of job this one does, though. Not all TansInCans are created equal. I've also cut my toenails and traded in their banged-up polish for a cheerful cherry red. Changed my fingernail polish, too: bronze, although I'm not sure I like it. I actually bought it for my toenails, and it should look nice on tanned tootsies, so that's ok. Maybe I'll leave it on just for today, and change it tomorrow morning.

Or, now that I take another look at it, maybe not. The choice is mine, as they say.

Unlike shopping, where the choices are minimal to nonexistent.

I went shopping yesterday. I need a dress for by brother's wedding. We leave for the US Saturday morning, and he's getting married the Saturday after. Never let it be said that I leave things to the last minute.

I leave them to the last second.

And I'll let you in on a little secret: I hate shopping.

Oh, I like looking in windows, or wandering through Motivi, where I know that they have lots of stuff that I both like and will fit my non-italian frame. And there's more than one shoe store that still thinks of my wallet fondly. Especially if they're a purveyor of black boots with wickedly pointy toes, but that's another matter.

But shopping for something specific? I hate it, and I hate it because I can never find what I'm looking for, and if I do they only carry sizes fit for a pixie. And I'm not that big. I wear a standard size, not "plus" (which would make the search diabolical), but I'm taller than average, and long waisted, and I have the apparently strange fixation of wanting to wear things that fit properly, make me look good, and aren't completely ugly. So I haven't been looking forward to this expedition of mine.

And I could find nothing, NOTHING, suitable. He's getting married in the afternoon, with an evening reception. Very common, and very annoying. Now, if was mother-of-the-groom, and wanted to look all matronly, I'd be all set. But I'm not, and I don't, so I'm screwed. Plus, I need a dress for the rehearsal dinner, which should be easier, but isn't. It's at a swanky place, so a LBD would be in order, but all the little black dresses available are too little. Or too big. Or too something, usually ugly. I have two LBDs, of course, but one is a winter LBD, and the other a corporate function type LBD. I have nothing suitable for this kind of do, because we don't do many dos like that.

So I went to buy some bras. After two and a half years in Italy, I've found exactly one style of bra that fits me and that I like, as I'm not shaped like an Italian.

They've stopped making them in my size, which is a thirty-six and, let's face it, not all that big.

I managed not to cry by reflecting on the fact that in one week, we'll be in the States, and I'm pretty sure that Victoria's Secret still makes the miraculous Miracle Bra. (If they don't, please wait to tell me. I'm feeling fragile today.) Although they've probably redesigned it so it's not so miraculous anymore, at least on my body.

Shoes! I think. Shoes are good, they fit me lovely, and you can get away with a lot, dress-wise, with a really kick-ass pair of shoes, can't you? And I saw some perfect ones, gold and beaded, that would go with any type of dress I'm likely to buy.

They don't have them in my size. Don't even know why I thought they would, really. They have them in black and red, and they're gorgeous, but really I need the lighter color. And, despite the protestations of the owner, the next size up really are too big. They gap around the edges and I'm worried that the slingbacks will slip off at an inopportune moment-- like when I'm climbing the steps of the altar to do the readings.

So I bought some pity-me shoes. Supremely funky ones. They're entirely leather, fit like a glove, and a bargain at 60 Euro. They're backless cowboy-boot type, with ü:ber-pointy toes (naturally), and a pattern combining houndstooth, leopard print, and random swirly bits, in various shades of brown, taupe and beige. Not black, which made them easier to justify. Seriously. They're fabulous. I'll take a picture if Elvis hasn't absconded with the digital camera.

Along with the the fabulous beaded shoes, in either black or red, that I've just decided to buy. Surely she won't have sold both pairs in my size between then and now?

Right. Who am I kidding?

So, after that, I went to Mazzolari for some serious cosmetic therapy. Bought the TanInACan (Lancome, if you're interested), some hair-dye (Loreal, because I'm worth it), pump-hairspray which I need for my contacts and is hard to find (Eleven Euros! Unbelievable, but it's the only kind they had), and some Clairins Beauty Flash Balm, which is ruinously expensive but is reputed to be cosmetic equivalent of ambrosia. I'm trying it today. I'll keep you posted. They give me discounts there, which is why I go. 20 percent, this time, which is not too bad. They also gave me a rose because I looked so morose. And it's actually a good thing I bought the hairspray, because Elvis has absconded with our current bottle, as well.

Yes, I'd descended to morose. On the way there, I saw the perfect dress in the window next door. Bright blue, with a long jacket for church that can be removed as the party heats up. It's gorgeous.

It's 890 Euro.

No way. If I'm gonna blow that kind of money, it will be on an Armani suit. It will be black, and not suitable for weddings or rehearsal dinners, but I would wear it to death which would make it all worth while.

Actually, I am going to purchase an Armani suit before I leave. I've been planning to since we moved here, and Elvis is all for it. I have a closet full of black suits, mostly pants. I wear them everywhere. It's my uniform. I always look nice. Black pantsuits can go anywhere, with suitable accessories. And it's usually better to be over-dressed than underdressed, I think, especially at my age.

Except to weddings, especially if it's your brother doing the wed-ing. I haven't ruled one out for the rehearsal dinner, in fact. I'd like a tuxedo-type evening model, if I can find one I like in my size. I've been looking for one for ages though, so I'm not holding my breath.

I talked to my sister last night, who gave me the stunning news that almost everyone is changing for the reception.

Which might make life easier.

If I didn't have to buy THREE dresses.

I can't even find one.

Hells bells.