The call has come.
He is travelling down now.
That is all.
Later …… He made it down in time.
The call
4
Author Archives: Andy
Dear Blackberry people
It’s coming up to two years now since I craved for and got the new Blackberry Q10.
I was so happy. My old Blackberry had become a little beaten and, actually, started to break up but I’d had it for over 4 years and it had been through the mill a bit.
But now you had a shiny new black object, still with the keyboard (because I’m old-fashioned like that) so it seemed perfect.
I was so happy with it. OK, so I couldn’t play Ruzzle with F (us Blackberry users were charged for it whereas he got it free) but it had the keyboard AND a touch screen, was brilliant at the emails stuff and now had almost all I wanted in terms of the Internet, Facebook, Twitter, etc.
Then, just as the guarantee ran out at the end of the first year, the keyboard started playing up. Keys were sticking. I would press an “i” and on the screen would come “oooOOiooo”. This was a little annoying. It got worse. I googled it and learnt, to my horror that this was a common problem. As mine was just out of warranty, I was fucked …… for another couple of years, to be precise, as I have it on contract!
I looked at videos on how to replace the keyboard but could see that the problem would continue. So I found how to partially clean under the keyboard and I get by. In fact, I’m almost used to it now.
Every so often you gave me software updates which gave me new features and things. It was OK. I realised that, given that the keyboard was crap and you were in the shit as a company, my next phone would, probably, be something else, like a Samsung or whatever is popular in another 18 months time.
Still, you had a chance that I would consider another Blackberry.
That is, until a few days ago.
A few days ago, you gave me another software update. Obligingly I updated and, suddenly, some things started to go horribly wrong. My main problem was that my appointments in my calendar, although still there, stopped giving me reminders. Before, you would set an “reminder” and, up to 2 weeks before, you would get a sound (as you set) to inform you and you could then edit and change this at will. I rely on those reminders.
With my busy schedule, this was, probably, the most used thing for my phone, after the email.
But now, after the software update, although everything “appeared” to be the same, there was no sound or flashing screen with the reminder. Oh, yes, when you “opened” the phone, there was the reminder with the chance to modify – but if you didn’t look at the phone, I would never know.
I googled the problem and found that it was a “known” problem in that a lot of other people had found the same and it wasn’t that I needed to change any settings – it just didn’t work as it should any more.
But, not one to sit back, I had a look around and found that I could now set multiple alarms. Well, that would be good, except that you can only set alarms up to 24 hours in advance!
So, now, I have to keep checking my calendar entries, setting up alarms for that particular day.
I’ve looked but am unable to find anything from Blackberry that says “sorry” or, “we’re going to fix it real soon”. Or, preferably both!
So thank you, Blackberry, for ensuring that a once loyal customer will be looking for an alternative for the next phone. Fucking useless piece of shit.
Update May 2015: The last update partially fixed the problem. Now, however, the long “sound” I have for texts cuts short. Your update to fix the reminders came far too late and with no apology for the considerable inconvenience. Congratulations on royally pissing me off.
Is it consent or not?
I picked this up from a post on Twitter, through on of those online “mags” (the Loop) and, then, directly from the originator’s blog. THIS is how you determine if someone has consented to something:
You say “hey, would you like a cup of tea?” and they go “OMG fuck yes, I would fucking LOVE a cup of tea! Thank you!*” then you know they want a cup of tea.
If you say “hey, would you like a cup of tea?” and they um and ahh and say, “I’m not really sure…” then you can make them a cup of tea or not, but be aware that they might not drink it, and if they don’t drink it then – this is the important bit – don’t make them drink it. You can’t blame them for you going to the effort of making the tea on the off-chance they wanted it; you just have to deal with them not drinking it. Just because you made it doesn’t mean you are entitled to watch them drink it.
If they say “No thank you” then don’t make them tea. At all. Don’t make them tea, don’t make them drink tea, don’t get annoyed at them for not wanting tea. They just don’t want tea, OK?
They might say “Yes please, that’s kind of you” and then when the tea arrives they actually don’t want the tea at all. Sure, that’s kind of annoying as you’ve gone to the effort of making the tea, but they remain under no obligation to drink the tea. They did want tea, now they don’t. Sometimes people change their mind in the time it takes to boil that kettle, brew the tea and add the milk. And it’s OK for people to change their mind, and you are still not entitled to watch them drink it even though you went to the trouble of making it.
If they are unconscious, don’t make them tea. Unconscious people don’t want tea and can’t answer the question “do you want tea” because they are unconscious.
OK, maybe they were conscious when you asked them if they wanted tea, and they said yes, but in the time it took you to boil that kettle, brew the tea and add the milk they are now unconscious. You should just put the tea down, make sure the unconscious person is safe, and – this is the important bit – don’t make them drink the tea. They said yes then, sure, but unconscious people don’t want tea.
If someone said yes to tea, started drinking it, and then passed out before they’d finished it, don’t keep on pouring it down their throat. Take the tea away and make sure they are safe. Because unconscious people don’t want tea. Trust me on this.
If someone said “yes” to tea around your house last Saturday, that doesn’t mean that they want you to make them tea all the time. They don’t want you to come around unexpectedly to their place and make them tea and force them to drink it going “BUT YOU WANTED TEA LAST WEEK”, or to wake up to find you pouring tea down their throat going “BUT YOU WANTED TEA LAST NIGHT”.
This is NOT a stupid analogy but really gets to the point. And, of course, she’s talking about the consent you should obtain BEFORE initiating any form of sex (or even during it) with any other person. Once you’ve read this, it just seems so straight forward, doesn’t it?
Well, if it doesn’t then I think you need to go and see a professional.
The full post can be seen here. Read it, it’s very good and so simply put that, surely, anyone can understand it.
It is as it is.
Nearly, nearly done.
The cocktail cabinet is in the wrong place. And, by that I mean that we both agree that the place where I have put it is wrong. It will have to be moved and the chest of drawers that is in the hall will have to be moved to make room for it. Where the chest of drawers is to go, I have no idea!
The final bit is the final payment which will be done tonight. And then it is finished, done, complete. Phew!
F arrived home last night. PaC continues to go through good days and bad days. I asked how his mum was. He said that she seems OK but he really couldn’t tell. Sometimes, with the exception of his sister, they seem more English, with the stiff upper lip, than English people.
He should be going away to Venice at the end of the week but he’ll cancel. He should go to Greece next week but he’ll cancel. It’s all a bit uncertain.
But J comes on Thursday. And the weather is quite spring-like which seems likely to continue. I keep thinking of what to do when J is here. So, I thought maybe of going to the lakes (Lake Orta, Lake Maggiore) if the weather stays good. I had thought of taking her to Villa Litta where they have a fantastic water garden but, unfortunately, it is only open from May through to October.
But I have some ideas for a rather gentle time, strolling through Milan, etc. Nothing too strenuous. We shall see but, in any case, I’m looking forward to it. How much F will be here, of course, all depends but I’m planning that he’s away most of the time.
It is as it is. And nothing I can do will change this.
An excruciating final chapter
We have whispered, very short conversations. He doesn’t want to wake his Mum, I guess. It can’t be that he thinks she will understand, can it?
As a result of the whispering and the shortness, I never know quite what is happening.
PaC is not out of hospital. I suggested it was because he was to ill to which I got an affirmative and “I’ll tell you tomorrow”. But I did get that he’s very bad now.
Meanwhile, the delivery of the cabinet didn’t happen. So now I’ve organised, through F, for someone to come with a van and sort it. It will be Sunday. I await the time.
And, as expected, I have had the message of “can I have the rest of the money?” to which, stupidly or not, I have said yes. It galls me as nothing has changed. Not with him nor even with my pathetic attempt to say “no” which, of course, stays in my head and on this blog but never quite makes it past my lips or through my fingers to him.
So, now I have a nasty taste left. Sunday, I hope, will have everything sorted! Unfortunately, I had to bother F to get it moved but I tried to bother him as little as possible.
Anyway, come Sunday, the final bits will be mine and that chapter will be over.
Or, will it?
It’s excruciating.
Nothing to say
PaC has been in hospital but came home yesterday.
Normally, of course, this would be a good thing but, just like F’s aunt, last year, this is not. There is nothing more they can do. It could be a matter of hours, days or, I suppose, even weeks.
F had been back for just over 2 days. Yesterday he went down again. His back problem has returned and he needs injections to enable him to keep going. This has been brought about by the stress. I don’t like to see him like this but there is nothing I can do.
Apparently, PaC, just like his aunt, is asleep most of the time. That’s probably better for everyone. So, F will get only snatches of time with PaC now. It is better than nothing. When he left to come back home on Sunday afternoon, apparently PaC woke up and asked for him which, I suppose, made him feel a bit guilty that he wasn’t there.
Of course, he says nothing of how he really feels. I can only guess by the occasional loud sigh that he makes. And his back. And the other things that are wrong with him (not sleeping, earaches, etc.)
Next week we have J coming. We have tickets for the opera at La Scala. At the moment, of course, I don’t know if he will be here at all, let alone for the opera. But I don’t worry him about that. After all, J is a lovely person and really such an easy person to look after. She talked to me last weekend and asked if she should cancel coming. I said “no” and F agreed when I told him.
I have nothing else to say. There is nothing else to say.
Getting my stuff back
I was apprehensive.
The text messages had been weird. Too familiar, too intimate. It had given me unease. I concentrated on the body of the text. We agreed on prices. Then there was a sudden “Can you give me some money in advance.” I see that nothing has changed. And, of course, I know very well how people, in general, are “dealt with” and so I know the tone really means nothing. It all is, after all, a great big lie.
Still, I have this strange feeling of unease as if, any moment now, I’m going to be hit with some information that I really won’t like. It shouldn’t affect me but I’m wary in case, in some way, it does. In my head, the answer is “no” to any question regarding loans.
As usual, I’m asking “Why?” Of course, on the surface, it’s plain and simple but my experience tells me that nothing is quite as it appears. He’s not doing this as a favour for me, how ever prettily it’s all wrapped up; nor is it in memory of “us”. I don’t believe that one for a second. Still, it’s odd.
I had a text the night before confirming everything but saying that he had “no electricity” to recharge the batteries on his phone as the electricity has been cut off. The story of this is both funny and ironic. Apparently. I suspect it’s neither funny nor ironic. I’m not even sure if he understands the word ironic. He’ll tell me tomorrow, apparently.
The day dawns and I find myself nervous. I’m nervous, in part, because I’m wondering how I’ll feel seeing the things that, in the main, I bought, being “left” or “thrown away” or “sold” (if he can find a buyer which, at such short notice is hardly likely). Will I feel sad? Will I feel some draw? In spite of myself. I’m also worried that I will be hit with some information which leads to a request where I will have to say “no”.
I’m nervous about the dinner service that I will be getting. Maybe F won’t like it with his “minimalist” approach. Ah well, it can always go down to the cellar. I shall have it anyway. And the chair. And the cocktail cabinet. The rest I’ve said “no” to. After all, where would we put it? Come to think of it, where will we even put the cocktail cabinet? Another for the cellar? These things I only left behind with some sadness. I guess, the difference would be that it wasn’t because they were “us” but because of the few things I have left from the UK, they were things that I really liked.
I had people over for dinner the previous night. Take-away Indian. Just for a change. There was FfI, FfC and L. I told them about the exchange of emails and the agreement we had reached. They weren’t happy. I got the feeling that they didn’t trust me. Or him? FfI reminded me of a comment he made all those years ago of “I could get him back any time I want.” He wasn’t right then and is certainly not right now. But my friends are worried.
“Have you told F?”, I am asked. I haven’t. Their question is heavy with alternate meanings. I do understand but they don’t apply. And, yet, my friends are incredulous that I haven’t mentioned it. I haven’t mentioned it because he has hardly been here since last week and he has more than enough to worry about, what with PaC and the rest of the family. He is tired and under stress and this is of no consequence.
But that is not the real question, is it? The real question is “Is F comfortable with you seeing him?” It’s so hard to explain that it’s OK. At least, I’m sure it’s OK. We don’t work “like that” and never have. It cannot be explained and, to be honest, until I met F, I wouldn’t have understood or believed it either. It’s called total trust and it’s what I like about our relationship and I refuse to be deterred by people who cannot believe in it.
But, you know, for a moment, they put doubt in my mind.
But, I find it impossible to explain because it’s not in other people’s experience so they don’t know how it could possibly work. Of course, everything was fine, as I expected.
So, I drive to the place. His house. I park nearby and ring the doorbell. I’ve forgotten which floor. I thought it was the 7th. Turns out it is the 4th. I am let in and introduced to Max. I don’t ask who Max is because, quite frankly, I don’t care. I see the stuff in the hall. There’s a LOT! CDs in bags. The dinner service in bags, wrapped in sheets and pillow cases because neither V nor I have newspaper or any packing material. I hope nothing gets damaged.
I wonder if it will all fit in. I note that the chair is broken. It wasn’t like that when I left. But, it can be repaired and I will get it repaired. It’s also not so clean. In fact, I decide to have a cigarette first before starting to load the car. I sit in the kitchen with Max whilst the DVDs are packed. Max tells me he’s not a good cook but he had made cous-cous for lunch. He’s right, it looks dreadful.
Whilst sitting in the kitchen I notice how filthy everything is. I’m used to living with F where cleaning is like a drug. It’s not here and it makes me feel uncomfortable and dirty. Funny how quickly my standards have changed.
We load the car. Everything fits. I pay most of the rest of the agreed price, keeping some back for the delivery of the cabinet. I will get that on Monday evening, apparently. Just in case, I’ve kept some back.
I get home and unload everything.
F arrives back earlier than expected, just as I’m cleaning the kitchen floor. He sees the service and really likes it. I am relieved. He also likes the chair. I am doubly relieved. He’s also happy to go through the CDs (although he will already have most of them.) And, since he came home on Sunday, we’ve been thinking about where to put the cabinet.
Although, surprise, surprise, I don’t have that yet.
Now promised for Thursday. We shall see.
But the unsurprising bit of news has been given – the deposit money for the new flat may not be available. I’ve ignored it. And, on Thursday, in my wallet, will be exactly €50 more than we’ve agreed. Which will be perfect.
And, then it will be done. Done and finished – the end of it all.
Maybe.
Strange days indeed.
These are peculiar days and not only because of PaC.
There’s an email I’ve received, the tone of which I find incredibly odd. I won’t go into details and I could be very, very wrong, but it’s freaked me out a bit.
Then there’s “the other thing”. I won’t go into details – at least not yet, but it’s a thing that has been growing slowly over the last couple of months and, in particular, the last couple of weeks. It makes me feel alternatively frightened/sad/angry/despairing. Today, I feel angry. Yesterday, I felt a little lost. Sometimes, I just need F to be around. He doesn’t need to do anything but the very fact that he’s there gives my confidence a boost. And, of course, he’s not at the moment. And I can’t bother him with this, right now. A result of yesterday was that I had about 2 hours sleep last night and, maybe, that’s partly why I’m angry today – but it’s only a part. I’m also angry because I cleared things in my mind and I thought about things long ago and I WILL NOT LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!
PaC, on the other hand, is not at all good. Maybe I was right after all. Sadly.
Snatches
We get just snatches of time.
No time at all, really.
I had gone to bed late, not really wanting to be in bed at all. But, I thought, a doze might be useful.
He arrived sometime after midnight. I didn’t check the clock. He’d brought some hot cross buns and some Cadbury’s creme eggs and a Shaun the Sheep for me. Bless him.
The dogs went crazy, of course. We didn’t really talk. How can I bring up this subject within seconds of him walking through the door? I give him a hug but he doesn’t seem to respond. He’s a bit stiff. He lets me do it but I get the feeling that, right now, he doesn’t want to “let go” for fear that he would follow through with a breakdown. And, as usual, he’s being “strong”. It’s OK. I understand.
I found it more difficult to get to sleep. Not really wanting to sleep when I knew that it would only be a few hours until he left again. For how long? I don’t know and neither does he.
Eventually he turned the TV off and we both tried to settle. It was at least 1.30 a.m. He was going to take the dogs out this morning. He had a pilates lesson at 8. I knew he hadn’t slept much the night before, whilst he was in London. I offered to take the dogs out this morning – several times. But I didn’t insist as he only had this short time with them and I know how much he misses them.
He got up just after I did. As I was finishing my coffee, he was back and while I washed up, he fed them. My eyes are red and sore. I probably had about 4 hours sleep. Probably, he had less.
Then we talked briefly but without saying much. We talk round the subject not of the subject. I asked him if he knew when he would be back, just in case he had some appointment arranged and so I wouldn’t be surprised by an unexpected return. He said he might be back on Saturday or Sunday.
Of course, it’s all “maybe” now. In one way, of course, it would be so much better if it all happened sooner rather than later. PaC is in hospital. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s to control the pain or maybe something else but I’m fairly sure we’re talking a matter of days rather than weeks or months now.
I don’t want to ask too much in case he doesn’t know. I know that can be very annoying. At the same time, he doesn’t really go into detail, even if he knows. I try to gently prise the information out. It’s the best I can do. I try to support. I try to do things so that he knows I’m supporting him. I think he does.
And, meanwhile, we get moments of time. Snatches. Like stolen moments, as if we shouldn’t even have them. It is better than nothing but not enough. But it will have to do. And I won’t press for more. It’s not the time for that and I’m sensitive to that.
I send everyone my love. We’ll speak by telephone later. But that isn’t one of those snatches. That won’t be “real” time. The next snatch of time might not be until Sunday evening.
A long weekend with an old, old friend
What I really need now is a weekend off.
I am, in fact, completely fucking exhausted. The last four days have been just constant activity. And, for almost all of it, F has not been here. PaC is not good so he was down there for a couple of days and then he had to go to London for work. So, it was just me and I feel like I just want to relax now.
But, back to the long weekend, (since Lola is so insistent). It was exhausting because D wanted to walk everywhere. I do understand but, obviously, for me, living here means that I don’t need to see everything so the metro is fine.
But we walked. And walked. And bloody walked. Then, whilst they were relaxing in their hotel I would be out walking the dogs, of course. And then walking them in the morning and in the evening. I actually feel like I don’t want to walk for a week.
Or eat for a week when it comes to it. From my usual one meal a day to breakfast, lunch AND dinner. I am stuffed.
So, there it is. After around 30 years of not seeing each other, D was just the same. A little older, true, but really just the same. And I’d forgotten how much he talks. We would be in a restaurant and we (J, his partner and I) would have finished eating whilst he had been talking, so his food was cold (I imagine). And still he would talk. And talk.
And, what did we do besides walk and talk (or listen) and eat?
Well, not much as it happens. They didn’t want to go inside anywhere. I did take them to Villa Necchi – but I think I only got away with that because it poured with rain on the Saturday. And, so, being inside was a good thing. They said they wanted to soak up being in Italy, so I did my best to give them that.
On the first day, we walked to the centre of the city (via the flamingos off Corso Venezia), past the Duomo, into the Galleria to the front of La Scala then up to Brera where we had lunch. Then around Brera and on to the the Castle and then back down to the Duomo and back to their hotel via Via Della Spiga and the park. That evening we went to Ristoranti Al Grigliaro where we ate fish (this is because J really likes fish and so does F and F was only going to be with us for that night for certain.)
The next day, F was at work. I met them at their hotel which was close to our flat and we strolled through Porta Nuova (the brand new area of Milan), stopping for ice-cream (it was J’s first time in Italy), walking down Corso Como (we stopped in to take a look round Corso Como 10 a famous designer shop/café/restaurant which also has a bookshop and an exhibition space) and then on to Eataly where we had lunch. From there, down Corso Garibaldi and back to the centre and straight back to Corso Buenos Aires. That evening we went to eat at the Cantinetta Belle Donne so that F could get home easily if it got late.
The next morning, early, F left for London. I had some errands to do so I ended up at their hotel about mid-day. We went to La Belle Aurore for a simple lunch and then to Villa Necchi Campiglio (the villa that featured in the film I Am Love). The nice thing was that, this time, we had the tour with a guide who spoke English (rather than a recorded tape) and, as there were only 6 of us, we saw a couple of rooms that I hadn’t seen before (the bigger groups don’t get to see them). In addition, they had finished the work on the basement so we got to see the Butler’s pantry and what had originally been the changing rooms for the swimming pool and the snooker room. That evening, in spite of the persistent rain, we went down to Navigli (we took a tram) and had an aperitivo (with mountains of “free” food) and then a pizza at Fabbrica – they loved the pizzas.
By the next morning, it had almost stopped raining. By 10.30 we were on our way to via Paolo Sarpi, the “Chinatown” of Milan for the New Year’s celebrations. We got there early and walked about. We couldn’t get in to any of the Chinese restaurants but went to a Sardinian place off piazza Gramsci (Ristorante Giulia) and came out just before the parade started.
As J comes from Taiwan, he was able to explain the procession – the Emperor, the concubines, the courtiers, the common people, the wedding party with the bride and groom, etc. So it made it much more interesting.
Then, even before the thing was over, we were back on the bus to their hotel as they had a plane to catch and I had a lesson.
It was really nice to see D again, after all these years. And J, his partner was lovely. There weren’t any “difficult” moments and it was all very easy (if exhausting) and I think they enjoyed it very much. It was unfortunate that F didn’t get to spend more time with them. But I think they did get a flavour of Italy, which was important.
And in a few weeks, my friend, J, is coming for a few days and a trip to La Scala, so that will be nice.