My Big Fat Italian Ulcer

I was officially accepted into the masters program at the University of Genova. Now you know.

It seems, however, that I will not be going despite that fact. Why is that, you ask?

Italy does not want me there. Or, to be more precise, the Italians at the consulate's office in Chicago do not want me there. I will not bore you with details. If you'd like to call and protest on my behalf, please call Mr. DeCaro at 312-467-1550. Just mention my name, wait for the snickering laughter to subside, and then begin your protest. However, I suggest that you give it a few days before you try, as I am hopeful that perhaps they will reconsider.

I was wondering today why in the last couple days I have recently lost my appetite and have been eating so little. My stomach has been churning away, intermittently bestowing upon me stabbing, crampy pain, and waves of nausea. Now I know why- the stress of this whole ordeal has finally caught up to me and my body is practically screaming, "enough already!!" So maybe it's time for me to listen.

I have a plan, though. If they truly refuse to give me a visa, I plan to send the consulate's office in Chicago a greeting card. I will send them one for every major holiday, and maybe even some minor ones. I will thank them again and again for being so helpful, and I will do this for the rest of my life. I may even make them a photo card for each Christmas, just so they can have a face to put with the name. I'll probably be holding an Italian flag in the photo to remind them what an Italian patriot I am. Some cards may contain letters telling them what I've been up to, and how the year has gone. But every card will thank them profusely for their help and support in my visa issues. I will also tell them that should they ever need help in the St. Louis area to please contact me and I will be as much assistance to them as they were to me. I will sign the card, "Yours fondly, Laura Kuchnicki".