9/20/2002

When I am old and when I am grey,

(or have blue-dyed hair—god forbid!)

I will forever remember my roommate Amanda:

Ah!  Those days on Via delle Carra,

In Apartment C, the room down the hall,

We had our mid-afternoon naps,

When, fully satisfied with Chianti and pasta

From Il Cantinone,

We would fall fast asleep

In the dim sunlit room, until dinner.

Or, our late night talks,

Bonding over school, boys, gossip and men.

And could I ever forget the times

At Assumption before that—

Our history class, when we

Struggled to stay awake,

And those famed nights at Desautels,

Especially the highly acclaimed birthday party,

For you of course,

And Douglas, the exotic dancer (to say the least).

But those memorable days in Firenze,

That time seems golden and a divine blue,

Like the Tuscan sky.

Laughter and giggles,

Even some serious talks, and lots of good advice

And our intellectual conversations—

A razor-sharp mind, a voice meant to laugh,

And a face unfamiliar without a smile;

The only one I know with exactly matching hair and eyes,

A passion for shoes, shopping and fine men.

This is the Amanda I know,

And will always remember,

When I am old and grey

And she is old, rich and lounging

With her dozens of cats in a Tuscan villa—