Chiacchierona

This is Mazzola - he was / is the best Italian teacher. Ever.

And he taught me the best Italian word ever... even better than "traversiamo" which is I think the one Elizabeth Gilbert picks for herself as "her word" in Eat, Pray, Love because it means "we cross over together..."

Anyway, Mazz, used to call me (and subsequently taught me the meaning of the word): a chiacchierona, Italian for, chatterbox.

Good one, right? Look at all those c's! The ch's are pronounced like hard k's so it's phonetically key-ah-key-A-rona.

LOVE IT.

Anyway.

To date I have never met more of a chiacchierona than my current roomie is. And I bestow the title upon her so affectionately (obviously) because I knew Mazz always meant it lovingly.

BUT - I'm not going to lie. I cannot wait until she's left for Brooklyn tomorrow and the San Fran subletters are the roomies who remain. BECAUSE, I need total silence in this apartment for the next month and a half or two if I am going to finish the book.

And I am going to finish the book. Writer Naugs is in the house - as they say. So thank goodness the two of them can keep each other company in the "after work hours" - I've simply gotta lock myself in my room, tape my fingers to the keyboard, and crank this puppy out.

The priming is upon us!!