How to speak Italian without speaking Italian

Ciao! I'm on the Eurostar on the way to Florence (to visit Mike and Lourdes). My very first train and I boared [tutto]- all- in Italian!!! Everything is so new to me. I feel like a child learning the moras and folkways of life. I know I must stick out like a sore thumb. Of course not fashion wise! Believe me, I'm dressed appropriately, although style appears to be a liberal idea hre in Italy. I have seen every kind of pants and shirt. It seems to be popular to wear pants that make one loko like Aladain should be sweaping you away on a red carpot.
I am definatly American. Southern American to be exact. As my study abroad friends would describe me...I'm the "nice" girl. I can't help it. As if it isn't bad enough that I can't speak enough Italian to order a drink or ask to use the restroom(which is rude if you don't buy anything and a public restroom in a foriegn idea here), my southern accent has also followed me. Ya'll slips out of my mouth like jello from the hands. Colin from Oregon likes to tease me about this but insist it is only funny because he will probably be saying it soon enough.
There has been several instance where [after the fact] i realized that if I had known better I might have been embarassed with my actions. Did you know you can't buy fruit in the supermarketo unless you have gloves on? OR that they sell German hairdryers in Italy? (FYI: don't buy the cheapest hairdryer, when you can't read the label. I should have known that was GERMAN!) I was so excited to finally have a hairdryer and then it didn't fit the plug. Don't worry Jennifer, I have cute head bands!!!
The first day I was in Italy I borrowed a spoon for my yogurt fromt he breakfast cafe (equivalent to a contiental breakfast in a fancy U.S. hotel). When I went to return the spoon, the room was clean and there was no place for dirty dishes. I stepped back into the kitchen and was caught red handed by an older italain women in a maids outfit. With all the skills I have aquired over the years from surades and jestures, I still could not break teh language barrier and explain to this sweet [donna]- women that i just didn't want to steal her spoon. About 10 mintues later and with the combination or help from the front desk and Jacob from Long Island, the spoon was safely returned and the lady relieved (an exhausitng dance!) Needless to say, this simple, yet daunting task gave me a pretty good laugh.
Last night, the center had a party fro the study abroad students. They have been feeding us good food and makign us merry with more wine, beer, and -as of late- sangria than I have ever seen in the U.S.. We have eaten at simple pizzerias to fancy resturants with three course meals. But either extreme offers the same experience; we always dine. By this I mean, eating dinner is an all night affair. We sit around 8pm and I almost never stand until 11pm. I truely love this. With friends and lots to talk about, time isnt' of essance in this beautiful country! We eat and then we walk. I have most likely walked about 10 miles a day since my arrival, which is probably a good thing considering all the vino e foccia. I'm convinced this is the secret of the skinny Italian women. Everyone walks and bikes in Ferrera. It is estimated that ehre are 130,000 bikes in the city. And on some days, it appears that there are more parked bikes than people to ride them. It is truely a madjestic city. In the old part, there is a castle with a moute and a cathedral, with cobblestone streets. But not so madjestic and not so Italian is a McDonalds right across that cobblestone street. Is that and oximoran or what? All Ferreraians hang out at night on these central plaza. All ages come out to enjoy a drink and walk from bar to bar with friends. Last night there was a designer fashion show outside the castle. This was right up my ally and I enjoyed watching the styles of Italy cast out in front of me.
The girls and I have adpoted a favorite spot around the corner from the castle. It is tagged "lezzy bar" for the looks of it's bar tender. Of course, our pet name for the niche has nothing to do with our taste for it. It is in a great spot in town and not normally crowded. It appears as if they may have forgot to buy barstools, but this adds to the charm. I enjoy standing up, especially when my feet already hurt from walking 25 minutes just to get a drink. ; ). love from italy.