Monthly Archives: November 2010

In which my brain decides it wants to emigrate

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I have no problem when I wake up with one of those headaches after a night spent sharing a bottle of that terrible poison (Sambucca) with someone.  You know?  The one where there’s that pain in the side of your head where your brain is trying to emigrate to somewhere with better climes; where your brain seems to have decided it has outgrown your head; where, in addition to the pain, it seems that everything is ever-so-slightly fuzzy, unfocused and unreal.

Now, I’m not one for illnesses, in any form.  Not mine nor anyone else’s (although I can immediately think of some very noteworthy exceptions to this general rule).  Certainly, if someone has a headache, please don’t tell me about it.  If I have one, it is either because of the poison or it just annoys me and I force it to go away.

But, these last couple of weeks, nearly every morning, I have woken with this headache, this poison-inspired-like headache.  And it is very annoying.

I really wouldn’t mind if I had had a ‘good’ night the night before – but, as an example, the only drink I had yesterday was coffee until about 4 p.m. and then several mugs of tea – as normal.  I didn’t get to bed early – but neither was it later than normal.  I slept fairly well – neither particularly good, nor particularly bad.  Obviously, it wasn’t long enough but ……. on waking this morning I was disappointed that I hadn’t been drinking last night.  At least, then, I could have said, “Ah well but it was worth it!”

Another half-written post….(subtitle: annoyed by being annoyed by something that I really shouldn’t be annoyed about)

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I promised, a couple of weeks ago, as I was deleting the many, many ‘draft’ (for ‘draft’ read unfinished, ill-thought-out, forgotten posts that never made it to the post button) that I would be better in future.  I would NOT keep starting to write about something that I had a feeling about, was angry about, was confused about or just thought was funny ………………….. and then just stop.

But it doesn’t work, really.

And, so, already, the unfinished draft posts are back and they are annoying me.

If you think this has no relevance to this post, think again.

This is another of these posts and the bit of rubbish above is just by way of explanation as to why this post will, in all probability, stay as another draft post.  Waiting to be finished until, one day, whilst doing a ‘clean up’ of the blog, I will carefully cut this paragraph and paste it into a rambling post full of bits that have never been published – because I think this bit is really good and explains why the whole post is full of disconnected single paragraphs.

So, I digress.

I wonder, in fact, if it’s supposed to be like this.  V is annoying me.  He’s annoying me by not having got in touch with me nor wanting anything.  He’s annoying me in my head.  and it’s even more annoying that I’m even thinking about him!

I keep saying ‘I’m not bothered’, to myself.  And that is true but it’s the truth of it that is annoying.  I really am not bothered.  But I do wish that he hadn’t originally treated it like he was bothered when, quite clearly, he isn’t.

I had hopes, at the beginning.  I hoped that we were old enough and grown-up enough that we could transcend the hurt feelings and the crapness of it all to make it through to another place that meant we could be friends.

But it just ain’t happening.

And, that annoys me.  But the problem is that, after so many broken promises (the ones after we split, I mean), I just gave up trying.  And, it seems, that’s OK by him.  And that pisses me off.  I know that there are other people who, over the last couple of years or so, have been caught up by him and then discarded, seemingly for no reason (although, trust me, there’s always a reason) and I wonder, sometimes, if I should get in touch with them.  Except, what would be the point, what good purpose could it possibly serve?

So, I won’t.  Probably.  They will find me if they want.

It annoys me that he’s not in touch with me.  It annoys me more that he has, in all probability, sold many of the things that we bought ‘together’ – though, in actual fact, we didn’t buy them together.  And, if he did buy any of them it was only because I bought almost everything else at the time – like food, fuel, paid the bills, etc.  Really, of course, I should never have just him get away with it – when we split – but it seemed like a good idea at the time and, in particular, as I was thinking of our long-term friendship, which has, obviously now, gone to pot.

I have conversations with him (in my head, as usual) except that nowadays, they’re not really full conversations – more like thoughts of conversations.  I don’t actually have sentences that go with the thoughts.  Either from him nor me.  And now, anyway, I know enough that the conversations will just never happen and, so, I stop them early.  And I find that annoying too.

We are, very nearly, at the end of it all – with no need for any ties.  Providing, of course, that I ignore the completion of the Final Question, the sofa cushions, his family and, generally ignore most people that he has any dealings with (which, with a few small exceptions, is not at all difficult).

Here I am, mentally, if not physically, slapping my hands together in the ‘all over and done with’ manner.

“The cushions are here for you to pick up”, she wrote.  My response was “I had given up on them, to be honest”.  Which is true.  I suggested that I might go over to get them in the next couple of weeks.  Which I might do.  And then she said that she got home about 9.30 and I thought that at that time I’m not sure I want to be schlepping half way over town to get them.  But that’s just stupid, I guess.  I should go and get them.  Probably.  But 9.30 is such a pain-in-the-arse time.  Maybe it would be better on a Saturday or Sunday.  Yes.  Probably.  Maybe this weekend.  Or next.  Or sometime later.  If I go and get them at least there would be even less reason to be in contact.  Which will be better.  Probably.

And, so, in summary, I am annoyed by being annoyed by something that I really shouldn’t be annoyed about.

And, yes, I will bloody well post it after all ……….

And, in the meantime ……..

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……. I heard this on the radio for the first time, last night, driving home and I LOVE IT!  So I thought you might enjoy it too :-)

And, I love the lyrics too, especially this bit –

‘Cause I would walk a million miles for you, just to visit you, baby
And I’ll show you a trillion stars, the Moon is ours

Darlin’, I, I’m everlasting
I’m a sure thing
I’m the master
Giving you real, real, real love
And it’s yours for the asking
I put everything after
Giving you real, real, real love

I guess I’m a bit of a softy, really :-)

Progress. It has some advantages but not for everything.

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For those of you who follow my blog, you may remember how pleased I was to find this flat.

It was on the street that I loved from the first time I saw it.  It was, in fact, the perfect street.  The flat was just right for me.  It was, in fact, the perfect flat.  And, so, this was the-perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street – as far as I was concerned.

The street has many beautiful buildings.  It is a joy to walk down (as I do every morning when I take the dogs out) and there are many small shops and restaurants.  It gives a ‘village’ feel, even though we are no more than 10 minutes from one of the busiest and main shopping streets in Milan.  It is a haven from the normal hustle and bustle of the city.

We have everything we need here and I would hardly need to go anywhere else.  Our favourite pizza restaurant is just on the corner up the street.  There’s an Indian too, although I haven’t been there for ages.  There’s a small version of one of the supermarket chains, some cafés, a chemist, the place where I just had some pictures repaired, the vets are just off the street.  Yes.  All-in-all, it is the perfect street.

And the flat is wonderful.  It is old (1920s or 30s) – a little Art Nouveau with very high ceilings (that I cannot reach, even with my step ladders), there are nooks and crannies, a built-in cupboard in the kitchen (that was, probably, an old larder) – the flat has been divided up from a bigger flat, making it more interesting.  The rooms are large (for the city of Milan) and, even with my large English furniture, it is not too claustrophobic.

It took me a while to learn how to shut the windows properly.  They have an ornate handle.

To close them properly, you must first pull the handle away from the door.  It has a strange joint inside.

Then you close the door with the handle still out towards you.  Then push the handle closed but at 90° to the down-frame.

Then you bring the handle down to make it flush with the frame.

At this point the window is secure.

The one problem with these windows are that, because they are old, they are a bit draughty.  They are not really secure, either, to be honest.  It wouldn’t really take much to break in.

Also, the front door is not one door but two.  The left side (as you look at the picture) opens normally.  The right side has a bar keeping it firm and closed and you take the bar out to open both of them (when you are taking stuff out or having stuff delivered).

But, soon, all this is to change.  Some guys came in to measure all the windows and doors.  Apparently, the building administrators (landlords) are replacing all of them.

I know what this means.  We shall have modern double (or triple?) glazed windows.  Probably ones that open outwards from the top as well as open fully as normal.  They will be wonderfully good at keeping the noise out (when closed) and there won’t be any more draughts.  They will be much more secure.

In addition, the front door is to be replaced.  It will be replaced by a single door.  This door will be much more secure and will probably have a spy hole to see people when they come before you have to open the door.  The lock will be on of those that is securing not only the opening but also the top and bottom making it almost impossible to break in.  And, again, there will be no draughts.

This is great, except for one thing.  It will take a little away from the flat.  It won’t really be ‘in keeping’ with the style.  I am a little sad that they will be going even if I know that the result will be a warmer (and you know how I like it hot) and certainly more secure.

Hence the fact that I have taken photographs.  I love the handles and the way that they work and for all that the new ones will be easier and more efficient, it seems a shame that these ingenious pieces of engineering and aesthetically attractive handles will be replaced by fairly boring white plastic handles.

Ah, well, it is progress, I suppose.

Oh, yes, and the shutters are being replaced too.  You can see the style of shutters in the flats opposite mine in the following picture.  Maybe we shall get ones that close from the top – a single shutter – rather than these that close together.  Again, more secure – but it’s still a shame, in a way.

Rufus – a real old-gentleman dog.

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It’s back, in a way, to the way it was less than three years ago.  Or, to be more accurate, about 15 years ago, I suppose.

He ‘lags’.  He has more problem keeping up.  Until the last couple of days, he had, for the last few months, been walking at my side – and not because I was getting him to walk to heel – just because he was doing it.  He seems to feel the pull of the lead more.  His sight is not so good any more.  If he’s by my side, I suppose, then he feels safer.  Maybe?

But these last few days, he has been lagging a bit.  Walking behind me.  And he’s a bit more wobbly.

Now, when you stroke his back, you feel the backbone.  As if there were no flesh.  As if he were already a skeleton.  His hindquarters have lost all fat and, it seems, most flesh.  Bless him.  His pupils now seem completely black.  It’s sad but it’s life.

As I say to people, if you can’t do this bit then you shouldn’t have a dog in the first place.  Yes, this is not easy but I try to make his life as comfortable as I can.  I need to take him out more often now, though, starting next week.  It will make it all easier for him.

It’s like having a puppy again.  You start off like this and end up like this.

But he’s still walking OK (most of the time).  He does have a bit of a problem cocking his leg now and tends to ‘lean’ onto the thing he is pissing against.  He really doesn’t have the strength any more.

But, he doesn’t seem in pain.  He’s just like an old gentleman, really.  Slower, weaker but with the same character.  He’s been a good dog and trustworthy and well-behaved.  He deserves my attention and love at this, probably his most difficult time.  And he shall have it, for as long as he needs it.

It’s stupid really; More of this?

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I’m glad I’m busy ……….. really.

It’s when he’s not here that it becomes a problem although, this time, it’s been less since I’ve had less time.  It’s in the quiet moments that it hits.  A feeling of panic, of insecurity, of fear.  Not of anything in particular – just a feeling for no real reason.

Not about us, for certain.  About us, of that I am sure.  It’s the rest of the world that makes me fearful and unsure.  It will be better on Saturday evening, when he’s back.  Then, from the moment he is there, I shall be fine and all these fears and worries will slip away as if they have never even existed – which is also annoying because I really would like to try and explain but, when he’s with me, they seem as smoke, drifting in the wind and becoming nothing within seconds.

__________________________________________________

I don’t condone violence and never have, especially since I was about 13.  However, the student protests are, if not condonable, at least understandable.

When I left school for further education it was a) free and b) I got a grant for my living expenses.  I came out of it all with an overdraft of about £1000.

Over the years, the support for those in higher education has fallen and most students over the last few years have faced the debt of a ‘student loan’, which they pay off for years afterwards.  Now, with tuition fees of £9000 per year (or maybe it’s per term?), it means that, forget about living expenses, just the cost of the education will be £27,000!

I can understand that they would be a bit angry.  I can understand why they would want to march against this.  And, to be honest, with a future where you need a degree to earn a pittance in McDonalds, with little hope of paying off the debt in anything other than a lifetime, I can understand why they feel that the only way they will be truly heard is to attack some building.  I can empathise with their aims since I am grateful that I never had this additional ‘worry’ when I was in higher education.

And, to be honest, with the exception of Ghandi, most change has come about as a result of violence, so it wouldn’t be the first time.  After all, The UK and the USA changed Iraq by violence and are trying to do the same with Afghanistan.  They shouldn’t hold double standards on this.

And, as I read this morning, had it been a peaceful march, it would have caused no debate and no one would have taken any real notice.  Now, people are talking about it – it is being discussed and criticised or lauded.  Now the debate will continue.

At the end, it may not result in anything (much like the French protests against the pension reforms) but I don’t think it will end there.  There is time yet.

Any government holds power only because of the consent of the majority of people it governs.  If, however, the majority of people don’t want it or want some change, then it seems that violence is the only thing that will actually ensure the change is made.

I predict we are in for some troubling times in the next few years.  I predict more violence and more unrest.  It’s a shame really.  The government of the time (in the UK) had the opportunity, a few years ago, to make some real change to an economic system that cannot continue in the way it is.  They chose (or were bullied or were too scared) to prop up the existing system and, so, this is the result.  It is times like this where there needs to be a bit of realism and someone who has charisma to explain to ‘the people’ what really needs to happen – to permit the change.  To make a bright new world.  To step off the edge of the cliff into the void with a parachute which has not been tried and tested is a scary thing.  But, sooner or later, this will have to be done.  Until then, I expect to see much more of this.

Hmm. I’m really not sure.

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The first time I try to grab the ………  it twists and turns so much that it jumps out through my fingers. The second time I pinch a bit harder and quickly dip the translucent ……….  in the accompanying emulsion of brown butter. When it lands on my tongue it does a little hop, skip and a jump before I decapitate it with my teeth and swallow the wonderful blend of crunchy shells, soft tail meat and creamy sweet butter.

I pride myself on the fact that I have never actually refused to eat anything put in front of me.  I think, I could, almost eat anything, including grubs and insects (given the right circumstances – I am not, right at this moment hunting for a nice, big, juicy spider, for example.  I’ve just had lunch!).  There are things I might ‘struggle’ with like slugs (if they are even edible) or, in particular, dog (it’s OK, Korea is not high on the list of places I simply must visit).

However, after reading this piece, I’m almost certain I can now add ‘live things’ to the list of the unlikely things!

And you? Would you? (Italians are excluded form this as they’re almost certain to dislike the idea ;-).  Sorry Lola, Pietro, etc.)

Dilemmas

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I seem to be picking up more teaching work.  It’s recommendations from people already having lessons.  I prefer the book writing corrections and the other correction work I do but such is life *sigh*.

So, the guy who works in the tobacconists below my flat is due to start on Thursday.  He wants to do the TOEFL test (and I’m really not sure he’s anywhere near that level but let’s see on Thursday).

I teach a colleague on Tuesday, after work.  She’s a sweet girl of about 20.  She is at a low level but she tries really hard and her pronunciation (once you correct her) is quite good, really.  I’m impressed.  According to another colleague, she really enjoys the lessons, which is good.

I go to teach her at her house.  She lives with her parents in what I first assumed was a very large detached house.  In fact, although it looks like that, it is two flats.  They have the ground floor and her sister (who is married with two kids) has the top floor.  Still, they make big flats.

Last night, as we were finishing the lesson, her sister arrived and sat down in the lounge (it’s an open plan ground floor) and was working on her laptop.  As I was packing up, my colleague’s nephew came in.  I said ‘Hello’ as I do.  He was a bit confused because it wasn’t Italian.  Then her sister asked me if I would teach her two kids and some other kid, English.

I said that I would think about it.  I would need to think of a price and what I could do.  I explained that, normally (in fact, always), I teach adults and I teach business English.  Teaching English to kids is a bit different.  There will be two six-year-old girls and the eleven-year-old boy.

Hmmm.  But, now, it leaves me with a bit of a dilemma.  What to do?  My colleague (MT) has obviously told her sister (family?) about the lessons and how much she is enjoying them and is probably saying I am a good teacher – hence the question.

But ……… I have never taught children.  Let’s be honest here, I don’t, generally, even like children!  Have you ever noticed blog posts detailing the joys of children on my blog?  No, I didn’t think so!  I would have to write brand new lessons – it would have to include games and stuff.  To keep them interested and occupied would be a task in it’s own right, let alone trying to actually teach them something of English!

On the other hand, it could be quite interesting.  I mean, teaching kids means more money, for certain.  I mean, for an hour I could charge more than for an adult student.  Also, they are not poor people.  Plus, I would end up with a load of lessons for kids.  How difficult could it all be?

Actually, it could be very, very difficult.  But I won’t actually know that until I try, will I?

So, what to do, what to do?

A quotation that I like

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Things are not going well, it would seem.  There’s the to-do about the illegal immigrant who was released from jail (but she WAS pretty and young), there’s the homophobic comment from the other day making headline news and then some prostitute has suggested that Mr B (Buzz Lightyear) paid her for sex which, I learnt, yesterday, is actually an illegal act (the paying for sex, that is).

The other problem is that Gianfranco Fini, one-time best mate of Buzz and, until recently, by his side in almost everything, a reformed neo-fascist, so it is said, keeps sniping at Buzz.  He’s formed another group (soon to be party?) but they aren’t quite ready for an election yet.  Instead of bringing the current government down, he is suggesting that Buzz should resign.  Buzz, on the other hand is suggesting that if Fini is any sort of ‘man’ he would force a new election (Buzz isn’t actually stupid, I guess, in spite of his antics and outpourings that point to the contrary).

But, what of the current global financial crisis and Italy, I hear you ask ………..

……………wait………….

WHAT CRISIS?

the government of pretending everything is going well

I just LOVE this quote from Fini, talking (yesterday or the day before) about the current government in Italy (ignoring the fact that, until very recently, he was actually part of it).  I only hope it is a faithful translation!

As I said to my colleague yesterday, the real problem here is who is to replace him?  There’s simply no one strong enough to do that, at least, not from my outside view.  Names are mentioned but it has to be someone who can bring a number of parties together and, unfortunately, there don’t seem many people able to do that here.