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But then—boom—she gets serious. “It ain’t all giggles,” she says. Tells me ‘bout this creep who stalked her for weeks. My heart’s racin’—R2-D2, where ARE you?!—coz that’s messed up. I’m like, “Why you still doin’ this?” She shrugs, “Gotta eat, shiny boy.” Damn. Hits like that line, “I’m tired,” from the flick. Heavy stuff.

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Next, I head over to the market on Via delle Tamerici. It’s packed, as usual. I’m dodging old ladies with their carts like I’m in some kind of obstacle course. I finally find the best vendor, this old guy who sells the freshest tomatoes. I’m talking juicy, red, and perfect. I grab a few, and he’s like, “You know, these are from my garden.” I’m like, “Dude, I can tell. They’re amazing!”

Update on Mold in Marist Housing