Author Archives: Andy

Non-dieting – Day 3

Posted on by
2

I’m afraid I had a bit of a setback this morning.

I would like to point out that this had absolutely nothing to do with my new, fictitious and completely made-up wine diet!

It was putting on a shirt. I found that, whereas, only last week no less, this shirt could be worn with the top button done up, now the button barely made it to the hole, let alone, through it! At first I thought that, perhaps, the shirt was riding too high up on my neck. So I made sure it was pulled down properly. Still no good. Trying to stretch the button to go through the hole and not just kiss it didn’t work either. I had a vision of the cotton threads doing their best to become elastic. Anyway, if I had managed to get the button through the hole it would, at some point during the day, have popped off in spectacular style, maybe even hitting someone in the eye, thereby alerting them to the fact that it seems I am getting fatter by the minute!

This was all somewhat of a shock.

So I am wearing a shirt with the top button undone and a tie that is, therefore loose. I feel untidy.

However, this lunchtime, again, I didn’t take any bread (although my hand did reach in for one); I had half the normal amount of pasta; 2 polpette and some spinach. Again, I do not feel as bloated as usual.

Tonight I have a student. He texted me at a quarter to midnight last night to ask if it was OK to come tonight at 7.30. He doesn’t come every week. I didn’t reply; I was almost asleep. I replied this morning. I then get this slightly strange message:

“I’m thinking to a new program of study! Than (sic) I let u know! See u later!”

He certainly likes his exclamation marks!!!! I guess I should talk to him about them :-)

Does that mean that he is coming tonight or not? A new program of study – is that a new thing with me or with someone else? Is it English or some other subject? And he’s going to let me know later today or tonight or sometime in the future? I have no idea what it means. He has only been with me for about 5 lessons so I have no idea how he thinks ….. yet.

Also, tonight, I’m supposed to go round to a friend’s new flat but no time has been set and, to be honest, it might not happen.

I have been promised Mirto. It’s an incentive that works for me. Maybe I should change my diet from a wine-diet to a mirto-diet? Of course, if she does food too or wants to go out for a pizza or something, I can’t really say ‘no’ – that would just be rude but it certainly won’t help me doing up the top button on my shirt, will it?

Mars Bars are Gay! Who knew?????? Please comment, I beg you.

Posted on by
20

Apparently, according to A, the only people who eat Mars Bars are women or gay people.

To be honest, when he said it I nearly fell off my chair!

We had texted earlier. I said that it would be fine to go out but I wasn’t going to have any beer and no food. I would just drink wine. I was on a ‘wine diet’. It was a joke but, as with many things, it was lost in translation.

A was in fine form yesterday being more outrageous than normal.

“Dogs are like women”, he says.

“Don’t say that to Fr!”, I cautioned.

But, apparently, he meant that dogs to me were like women to him. I laughed. His view of the world is a strange one.

But the ‘this is what a gay person is like’ thing was a recurring theme during the evening. I forget them all now but they’re not really important in themselves. He likes to have everything pigeonholed. Gays are different to him and, therefore, must be similar to women.

He needs to get out more.

I think he actually said it, more than once, ‘You are like a woman’. Yes, it does irk me a little but he’s A and, for all his faults, I know he has a heart of gold. It’s only his ignorance speaking.

And the fact that he is a stubborn bastard.

I did have a drink in Polpetta with him. Red wine. Pinot Nero. A had some fruit juice (orange, I think) with campari. I had to refrain from pointing out that if someone was looking at us, he would have been gayer than me with that drink.

And he ate. I wasn’t eating but he ate and ate and ate. I did wonder why he wasn’t the size of a house!

I had forgotten my wallet and so we came back to my flat (although I then forgot to give him any money anyway) and I opened a bottle of red wine. And this was when the thing about Mars bars came out. I told him I would blog it as it was, at the same time, outrageous and extremely funny.

And I forget why but we started talking about politics. This is not a good thing and I avoid it like the plague, here. After all, here, they are so right or left and so dogmatic that it is impossible to have any reasoned conversation.

“I’m not ashamed of Berlusconi”, he states. I find it impossible to keep the smile off my lips. He doesn’t like that but it’s either that or starting an argument which will have no end since his views are set and nothing will change it. I do say some things but not nearly enough. Anyway, it’s not my place to criticise his thinking, even if it is closed.

“He came from nothing and is a great entrepreneur”, he says, adding “the right have the right mind”. But, what was noticeable (at least when I thought about it this morning) was that the arguments (as usual when people talk politics) was not really a defence of Berlusconi nor his way of thinking (nor his Bunga Bunga parties) but instead an attack on the left and the magistrates.

“They are rich and live in nice houses (the left)”. I’m sorry but that’s not an argument to say that Buzz is great. Nor does it say that (the left) are not qualified to be speaking for the left.

“The magistrates are out to get him”. That doesn’t mean he has done nothing wrong. Nor does it mean that if he has done something wrong that he, just because he is Prime Minister, should not be held accountable in court. He’s not God however much he and his supporters think he may be.

In the end, I countered, weakly, with the fact that they (politicians) are only interested in what they can get for themselves, their friends and family and don’t care about the likes of us and that they were all corrupt.

“What we should do is exile them all and start again”, I concluded.

I was dissatisfied with my argument but I knew that I should not ‘get involved’ since, as I said before, this was not an argument where reason and logic would play any part. A lot like religion, really. After all, it’s a belief and beliefs have no sway with logic nor reason.

Still, we finished the bottle of wine. Which made me late. However, I think the ‘wine diet’ part is going rather well, don’t you?

However, given that Mars bars (and, in fact, sweet things in general) are, apparently only eaten by gay men and women, I need your help.

This is why I said I would blog about it.

Please let me know if you (being a straight man) or straight men you know (if you are a woman or gay) eat sweet things like Mars bars, chocolate or other such things. A seems to think the answer is no but, being a gay man, he refuses to believe me when I disagree as if, by being gay, it precludes me from knowledge about the world that is not gay or female.

I need to know. He will, in all probability, read this and your comments. Comment immediately ……….. please?

What a load of tripe!

Posted on by
2

I’ve never tried it but imagine for a moment that you have taken the foam from a cushion, cut it into small pieces, boiled it for a bit, added some tomato sauce and some beans and maybe a bit of veg and seasoning.

That’s almost the same as eating tripe (the way they did it today in the canteen).

It doesn’t sound really scrumptious, does it?  But, actually, it’s not so bad.  I guess it’s ‘poor man’s food’, really.  But Italians have strange likes, as I have mentioned before.

I thought (but didn’t say) that there is no way it would be offered as a main course in any British canteen, even the ones up North!

Today I did not have a bread roll.  It’s the new regime.  The one that is not a diet but is going back to how I used to eat.  You see, I’m getting fat.

Of course, if I say that to people around me they pooh pooh the idea.  they tell me I’m not fat.  And it’s true, depending on the standard your using to measure it.

However, 3 broken jeans (in the last 2 weeks) testify differently and I would rather go by those than by people’s comments.  Unless, of course, it’s the jeans that have shrunk!

So, I need to lose a little weight.  I was trying to think of things I have been eating differently to, say, 12 months ago.

One thing was eating a bread roll with lunch.  And, then, probably, eating too much lunch altogether.  So I’m cutting down.  Less pasta, less main course and no bread roll.

Then there’s the evening.  recently I’ve got into the habit of having a Mars bar (or 3) with my evening tea.  So that has to stop too.

I will see how it goes.  I may have to give something else up too.  Perhaps beer, for a bit anyway. Drink wine instead, perhaps?

Hmm.  It’s not good.  I don’t ‘do’ dieting – this is my equivalent.  I think it may work although I will probably be out on Wednesday and Thursday for meals and then Saturday we go away for a night (and some eating) and then Monday we go for a meal too.  Thinking about it, maybe, this week I should even skip the pasta at lunch? :-(

Weather, washing, whinging

Posted on by
3

“It was too hot”.

This was in reply to my “It was lovely weather but still too cold”.

Don’t ever think that as British, we hold the monopoly on complaining about the weather. We just have ‘more’ of it. Here, the weather is never right. It’s always too cold or too hot or too rainy or too much snow (well, this time last year, anyway). The only thing it rarely is (and so rarely complained about), is too windy.

I have a sneaking suspicion that every country is, more or less, the same.

When I replied that we still had to wear coats, the original quote was qualified with “Yes but it’s too hot for February”. There’s just no pleasing people.

And it was a rather splendid weekend (apart from the coats thing). The sun shone and it was almost too warm (outside my flat anyway) for a hat. Almost but not quite. If I was a truly British person I would, given the weather, have been out in shorts and a T-shirt!

_______________________________________________

It seems that my washing machine has all but had it. It doesn’t always spin. And, anyway, when it does spin it sounds like I also put a load of boulders in with the wash. It’s so loud that I am unable to hear anyone on the phone unless I move to the bedroom.

So I went to have a look for some over the weekend.

I was expecting to pay between €200 and €300 so I was a bit shocked when there really wasn’t anything below €400. Damn! But I AM NOT going back to hand washing and so, this week, I must just bite the bullet and get one. I don’t really want a crap one so you have to pay more than €400 but I could do without it right now. Damn again! And then, this year or next year I suppose, will be a fridge.

_______________________________________________

I feel better than I felt on Saturday.

Just thought you should know.

Perhaps I should apologise to A for being a miserable bastard when we went out on Friday night? We went to K2. I think I should revise my feelings about K2 as it really was quite good.

Could I possibly tempt you with a banana?

Posted on by
Reply

“Have a banana”. Actually, it was almost a question.

“No thanks, Bampa”, I would reply. Well, normally.

It was a thing he always said. It was after a meal and it was always a banana. I wonder if that’s why I like bananas?

I was reminded of this talking to Al, a colleague.

He said that his parents were at his house doing cleaning and stuff. They hadn’t told him they were going to get there early to do this stuff because he would have said no. And so it led on to the fact that often, when we say no, we mean yes but are just being polite.

Except that when my grandfather said it, I was usually full and could not have eaten a banana. I even wonder why it was always a banana?

I am alive!

Posted on by
2

“Do you like it?”, he asked.

“It’s OK. It enables me to stay here”, I replied.

Thinking about it, it’s not really OK at all. But what can I do? He is determined ‘to be a writer’. But I remember, vaguely, some quote from an actor or writer that said, more or less, that they kept on saying that one day they would be a writer or actor until the time came to renew a passport and, since they didn’t have a ‘real’ job, they had to put writer or actor and then realised that there was no ‘big moment’ where they moved from being an aspiring whatever to the real thing.

So, he is, in fact, a writer. A writer of books. Well, one book with another, he hopes, soon. I hope so. I wish it could be the same for me but I am not that skilled in writing that I could ever be a real writer. I’m just a blogger which is not the same thing at all. Anyway, I couldn’t do what he has done/does and my goal is not that defined. I have no goal. ‘Just living’ is the goal. Oh, yes, and eating and drinking and spending time with friends and the dogs and stuff.

Hardly the stuff of dreams.

___________________________________________________________

F is funny. When he meets any one of my friends (or, even in this case, someone I really don’t know), he talks. It’s like he can’t have a silence.

Of course, once he had found something to talk about, he didn’t stop. In this case, once Karl (this is NOT anything to do with the ‘Karl spark’ – it’s his real name and I’ll link to his blogs in due course – since the ‘Karl’ in the ‘Karl spark was, in fact, a guy with a real name beginning with J) had explained his ‘great plan’ (which is not a great plan as such – just an idea that will change as the year progresses), which is to visit as many festivals as possible over the world, F started to come up with all the festivals that Karl absolutely MUST go to. They were all music festivals and included, of course, San Remo.

I’m not actually sure that, even if Karl intends to go to San Remo, it will be quite the same as the festival experience he’s looking for. After all, it’s a little commercial now. I recall the Upton Jazz Festival. The first year that it was staged, the jazz bands played in the many pub gardens that are a feature of Upton upon Severn. Everything was free. The feeling that one got was fantastic, wandering from pub to pub, having a beer, listening to some live band – really ‘chilled out’. The next year, the bands were behind screens and you had to pay and, immediately, it moved from being ‘a night out with friends (even if you didn’t know the people nor the musicians) to being a commercial event. Not the same at all. A little like the Hay Festival or (I imagine) the Edinburgh Festival. Far removed from the original thing.

I think San Remo would be more like going to a book festival. Of course, to F, it is a wonderful thing. We shall watch it again, certainly.

Still, Karl took notes, which was kind of him even if some of them were almost certainly going to be dropped from the list even as he wrote them down.

As I predicted, F didn’t come and stay with me. He is quite strange sometimes.

This morning, I got up just after the alarm. The sambuca, the night before, didn’t seem to have the usual effect, which was good. The lack of enough sleep makes me tired – but it’s not really different from normal.

He said he slept well. I forgot to ask if he had managed to connect to the internet OK after I went to bed. I forgot to tell him to take tram 23 to the middle of town. Mornings are not really my best time.

But, in case you were worried, I am, in fact, alive.

So he wasn’t a crazed axe murderer after all. Nice guy doing this round the world thing. I couldn’t do it – I like my comforts too much, I guess. Still it was interesting and I wished him good luck with it all.

Everyone should do something crazy once in a while, don’t you think?

Posted on by
4

You don’t really ‘live’ without experiences. I mean to say, that’s what life is all about. For those of you who have read my blog for long enough, you will know that it was one of the reasons for coming here. To put myself in a strange situation and to ‘see how it went’.

As I’ve mentioned before, all those people who, when we told them we were giving everything up and going to Milan because we quite liked it said things like ‘You are brave’ whilst privately thinking ‘You are crazy’. Some time after we had been here, I came to that conclusion too, in that it really was quite a crazy thing to do but I don’t regret it and I wouldn’t change anything (well, almost).

So, yesterday, when I read that some guy that I don’t know was going to be in Milan for a night and was probably going to have to sleep rough, I suggested that he could sleep on the sofa. It was a simple comment made without any real thought. After all, I’d probably never hear from him.

Until, of course, I did. I read the email. Last night he slept outside. He said that he was still trying to get the chill out of his bones. I can only imagine.

I read the email again. Of course, I could pretend that I hadn’t read the email. I could say that, after all, it wasn’t ‘convenient’ (he had given that option in his email). He offered me a pizza and a beer.

I hesitated. This won’t be ‘convenient’ – I mean, An maybe celebrating as she hopes to sign up for a flat, round the corner from me (she is returning to Milan to work – leaving her husband in London); A has already suggested that we might meet for a beer; and then there is F who, if there is someone else in the flat, probably won’t want to sleep there (because he can be quite strange, sometimes) – and then there would be how to explain this person. It’s not easy. It’s easy for me, of course, but for others, there is the fact that they probably wouldn’t do it and so I would be ‘crazy’.

I mean I don’t actually know him. I’ve read his stuff. He’s quite famous (been on TV and stuff) but only with a bag on his head. I’ve read about his latest ‘escapade’ and, to be honest, like me coming to Milan, he’s quite brave (or crazy). I think he’s dropped using the bag now :-)

But I’ve never met him, haven’t spoken to him and, but for his blog, wouldn’t even know anything about him – and, anyway, his first blog was, in reality, one great big lie to be precise – so who’s to say this latest one isn’t?

But I only hesitate for a few moments. After all, if you don’t actually do things then you can only regret not doing them in the future and you would never know if doing it would have been good or not. Whereas, if you do things then, at least, you have a 50/50 chance it will be good ……. or interesting ……….or exciting …… or amazing, perhaps?

And so I said ‘yes’. Why not? Perhaps he will kill me in my sleep? Perhaps he will be as boring as they come? Or stink? Or, perhaps, he will just be an interesting, nice guy with whom I hit it off?

Who knows but it seems it is set. I await his call.

Now, how do I explain this to F ………….?

The power of the [foreign] people …. it’s a good thing.

Posted on by
4

They’ve been on the streets, protesting. The police have been using tactics that are, at the least, undesirable. People have been in hospital as a result. They are protesting about the increase in tuition fees, the cuts in grant money, the large organisations that are avoiding paying too much tax. The government doesn’t like it; the police don’t like it.

Oh, hang on, our Deputy Prime Minister has something to say:

“It is incredibly exciting what is going on, it reminds me so much of the time when the Berlin Wall fell, the power of the people out on the streets, in a regime which ……… everybody thought was one of the most stable regimes in the region,” he told ITV Daybreak.

Ah but no. He isn’t talking about the protests in Britain, of course, but those in Egypt.

You see it’s perfectly OK for ‘the people’ protesting against the government ………. as long as it’s those foreigners doing it in their own foreign country, of course.

Hmmmmmm

Posted on by
6

“I just wanted to say hello”

I bet you did.

I’m too tired to respond properly – although I give it a go.

Too tired.  I had an accident this morning.  I was late into work.  I’ve just about had enough.

OK, so today is not a good day, then.