Tag Archives: People we like

Still not holding my breath; Time Out Pizzeria; Having a wife!

Posted on by
2

Still_not_holding_my_breath_Time_Out_Pizzeria_Having_a_wife

Apparently, after an ‘interesting’ conversation she had with her friend, as we’re walking to the pizzeria, I won’t be holding my breath until Saturday or Sunday! Hmm.

This morning, coming to work, the temperature sensor was recoding 16.5 degrees. The sun is shining and, for the first time this year, I did not wear a jumper to work! Yay! Although, obviously, I was wearing a coat.

Still, if only this would hold for the weekend and, even better, if Best Mate still comes, next week! Blue skies, no wind, and, again, last night, we were able to sit outside for our meal without jackets. Oh yes, this makes it all worthwhile.

So, back to last night. The plan was that FfI was going to make dinner at home. She bought all the stuff. She also bought a clothes drying rack; a standing lamp; a basket to hold washing and cleaning stuff; a mirror for the bathroom. She also cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom. It’s like having a wife!

The problem is that the clothes drying rack is for hanging outside on the balcony. She likes her clothes to dry outside. Given the pollution in this city and the film of dirt that is on the car every morning, I prefer to dry everything inside. Ah well, there are worse things.

The lamp, however, is really great. It is now standing in the kitchen. The Art Deco lamp that was in the kitchen is now shedding light in the hall (which was the only place without light or windows and was, therefore, very dark). It’s good. It cost €5 but looks like it should be worth about €100!

The mirror (a cheap one from one of the Chinese shops that is full of tat) is serviceable and now I can shave without having to squat down!

Instead of her making dinner, she suggested that we go for a pizza. We walk up to Via Eustachi which is a very elegant street in Milan. It is also full of restaurants and bars. We select a pizzeria that she says is part of a small chain and, supposedly, very good. It’s called Time Out, or something like that. The chain is run by Chinese, apparently. The pizzas were good, the house red wine was fizzy and cold and perfectly acceptable and the conversation flowed. The evening was warm and very pleasant. And all for €13 per head! Very good value and one I can see myself going to much more often.

It was marred only by the phone conversation she had with her friend on the way there and a subsequent one when we got there.

She had told me, before, that she had texted her friend, twice, asking what was going on and could she still come tomorrow (now today, obviously) to stay. Her friend was not responding. I knew what this meant and told her.

A few minutes after we started walking to the restaurant her friend rang her (she had just sent another text) and there followed a rather heated argument. It was embarrassing and unnecessary, in my view. After all, I knew from the day before yesterday that this ‘move’ wasn’t going to happen.

Anyway, the upshot is that her friend didn’t have room because some other friends are down from the mountains. FfI wasn’t happy. I wasn’t exactly ecstatic but had to offer that she could stay – what else could I do? So, now it will be until Saturday or Sunday or, perhaps, even Monday). An offer to go to the Friend with the Second Home on the Lake for the weekend was rejected. I understand but, still, a break would be nice (for me, really).

Here I am in my new flat and unable, really to stretch out and enjoy it; continue putting stuff away and sorting things out, etc. Hmmph! And, even with V, I need my personal ‘downtime’ or space.

I really hope that Best Mate can make it after all as that IS something to look forward to and the weather is predicted to be pretty good – plenty of sunshine and warmish weather. And I want to explore the area with her, above all others.

Not holding my breath – and for good reason; Living with someone; a new restaurant

Posted on by
4

Not_holding_my_breath_and_for_good_reason_Living_with_someone_a_new_restaurant

Remember? I’m still not holding my breath. Last night FfI mentioned that the friend, to whom she was going to move, may not be able to put her up until the weekend. I read between the lines and know what that means. Certainly, she will be there tonight. Tomorrow?

However, it changed again this morning, probably because she insists on getting up after I have taken the dogs for a walk and I don’t think she normally got up anywhere near that time in the past. At that time it’s only just getting light. She gets up for coffee with me. We have conversation. Now, I’m not really a morning person; I don’t like having conversation. I prefer to be quiet and not to do much (except drink coffee and have some cigarettes).

I really don’t mind having her stay. Except that, whereas she’s lovely, she may be considered harder work than someone, say, like Best Mate. With Best Mate I can, certainly, be totally myself and completely relaxed. With FfI, it’s not really the same at all.

But she’s trying to be sweet and I am trying to be accommodating. It’s difficult, this living with someone else, especially if you’re in a three-room flat!

Anyway, as a sort of payment for using my flat over these two (or three or four) days, she took me out last night. Please bear in mind, it’s always ladies first, ladies have a seat, ladies are treated, well, like ladies. But I have no problem when they pay for things. For me they are equal in all things but should be treated with the courtesy of being a lady. This does not mean they shouldn’t pay their way – after all, some of them I know earn so much more than I do.

She had asked me where and, since I’ve never been there but passed it the other night whilst taking the dogs out, I suggested Aladino. She had mentioned it several times in the past as a great restaurant and that we should go and now, as it’s a two minute walk from my house, it seemed the perfect time.

Aladino (not pronounced the English way – I.e. like Aladin with an ‘o’ on the end and the stress on the ‘la’ – but rather as in Allah + Dino (deenoh) with the stress on the ‘di’) is a Lebanese (and, as I look at the website, Syrian) restaurant.

As FfI had been there before, many times, and, I was on the telephone to another friend, she went and ordered for both of us.  Which was fine by me!

What we had decries description. To start with was cold ‘mesa’ (may not be spelt correctly) which was about 25 small dishes with ‘stuff’. Different sauces, vegetables done in different sauces, etc. Served with warm pitta bread.

Each dish allowed four small but adequate portions of whatever the ‘stuff’ was. This you put on pitta bread and eat. Most of it was very tasty but very different tastes for most of them which meant you felt as if you were getting a whole meal. And, to be honest, I had to check at one point, what was coming next, so as not to over-do it at the start.

Next came three different hot ‘mesa’. Again, very nice and, thankfully not so much as I was already a little full from the cold dishes.

Then came the kebabs – lamb and beef. Served with salad and rice. By now there was far too much to eat! Still, to follow, was the sweet – two types but not over-sweet and one of which was a little like blancmange (which was always one of favourite deserts). Then there was tea and, for me, a limoncello.

Very, very nice meal although not cheap at €40 per head! However, as an alternative to Chinese or Indian, very welcome.

I clean and wait

Posted on by
Reply

I_clean_and_wait

I should be working. Both ‘real’ work and the ‘other’ work (which, in reality, is just as real and, if I actually got my ass into gear, would pay for a new laptop).

I sit here, in the office, with my coat on. It is not so cold – except in this office.

FfI arrived last night; late. She should have arrived at about 11 and instead it was about 11.45. It did make me clean the house and put some boxes in the car to take back to V; or, rather, to take back to the old place to allow me to pack some more stuff to take away and try to find a place for it in a flat with no storage.

FfI bought me an ashtray and some chocolate-covered wafers from her trip to the strange land. The ashtray is nice and also very useful, since the split means I don’t have so many of them each. The chocolate-covered wafers are, apparently, fantastic. We shall see.

It was to be for one night. Now it will be two but she ‘should be gone after that’. Another friend’s ex-husband is leaving to go back to the country house and so there will be room. I am not holding my breath

I finished the cleaning; flattened some boxes; went round to V’s place (that was our place and now is an alien place even if the furniture is still ‘our’ furniture). I collected a duvet (it being so cold at night) for FfI, some mugs (I realised I only had two) and some pans (I had none). These things, in the main, having been forgotten by me in the rush to advise each of the packers in different rooms

V and I had a glass of wine. He lent me some incense – it being essential to mask the smell of the dogs, especially in this damp or wet weather.

I went home and sat at the kitchen table in the silence of the night although, if you listened hard enough, you could detect the hum of the traffic and the clang and grinding of the trams; I opened a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass and read the book that I had been lent about 9 months ago and should have finished about 8 months ago.

I wouldn’t do that at the previous home. I expect, when I get the TV functioning, I will do less of that. But, for now, it’s such a pleasure to be able to read in the dim light of one lamp (since all the light fittings have been taken – as they do here) and a glass of wine in one hand.

Dino, of course, wants to play. I am mindful that throwing things for him too much could cause problems for the people below me – first, the thud of the toy hitting the floor and then the clippety-clipping of the toenails as he scampers to retrieve said toy and then, occasionally, the crash as he slides into something like a door or bookcase.

When I stop the playing, he comes and, almost, takes my arm off, such is the force by which he ‘nudges’ me. It makes it difficult to drink the wine – I have to sip it in between the ‘nudges’.

FfI arrives and, having just travelled for hours, is not so sleepy. I pour her wine in the other glass I got out some time before, ready, for just this moment. She wants to hear about the flat but also wants to tell me about the trip; the things that were done; the shade of brown she has become; the men she has met or re-met; the old friends that she saw.

I only half listen. Had she not been coming I would have been like a log in my bed by half past ten.

As it is, we chat for a bit. I try to concentrate on what she is saying, I do, I really do.

I help her make up the ‘bed’ in the lounge.

I crash into my bed – I can’t even be bothered to turn off the computer. It will be five hours and I will be up again. I would normally say ‘roll on the weekend’ but, again, I will have so much to do I know I will not have the lie-in that I so want.

On the plus side, when Best Mate comes next week, now that she is sleeping like a normal person, I should be able to catch up with my sleep – if that is ever really possible!

The Ties That Bind – Restrictive or Welcome?

Posted on by
4

Since moving to the Perfect Flat, when taking Rufus and Dino out late at night, for their last walk, I walk to the area that I always used which has two dog areas, fenced, where they can be let off the lead

In doing so, I walk up the Perfect Street and every time I pass the Indian restaurant, the Rajput. This is the one that was closest to our old flat and is, more or less, the same distance from the Perfect Flat.

The meal is quite nice, if a little less spicy than it would be in the UK. Normally, of course, I would not have walked past it at all, were it not for the move. And, in passing it late in the evening, I had such a hankering for going there.

Now, there are three people that either know that place or would be very happy going there for a meal. One is a friend who used to live with us but is now living in London and has just had a baby; the other is our friend who spends most of her time in Rome; and then there is V.

So, my craving became an obsession within two evenings and I knew I just HAD to go. So I texted V and suggested it. He was all for it and, Friday night, we went. It was a strange thing. He seemed a bit ‘off’ at the beginning but we had a nice meal and a nice evening, talking about crap and this and that. Nothing heavy, of course. We finished the meal with Sambuca (I really must stop drinking that poison) and I said that I had a bottle at home. He said he’d rather not come over. We walked out of the restaurant and walked down the road. He didn’t turn off as expected and then said he had changed his mind about the Sambuca!

He was very complimentary about the flat, even if it did seem a real mess (to me, anyway). The strange thing was that I didn’t have the urge to have him stay. I mean, this was my place and not his nor shared and so, when he left it seemed so right and natural. Not really what I expected (from myself).

I promised to go round the next day, later, to bring back some stuff that I had but he wanted; to help with the cleaning of the old place, to take some of my stuff away.

After I had taken the dogs out a couple of times, unpacked and tried to place things, etc. it got quite late. By the time I got there he had, more or less, done everything. And, I have to say he had, as he always had in the past, made a good job of it. It looked lovely in spite of missing some furniture.

We chatted, drank some wine and then I left. I realised, whilst I was there, that I had not taken pans and said that I quite fancied having pasta on Sunday so would come back on Sunday to collect some.

Sunday and, because I had to try and get most things unpacked as FfI was returning to Milan and, for various reasons, was going to stay at mine, I didn’t go round as early as I had hoped.

In the meantime, I got a text from V asking that, if I wanted, he would cook some pasta for dinner. I agreed. It sounded nice.

So, later, in the early evening, I went round (again taking some more bits that were, really, V’s). He had made an experimental pasta dish and then chicken with roasted potatoes. We drank the bottle of Barolo that he had been saving. We listened to Maria Callas. All in all a very nice evening, except that both of us (me for all the unpacking and he for all the cleaning and moving stuff around) were so shattered that it was not a late evening.

He promised me a proper meal when he was paid. He asked (again) about my birthday as Best Mate will be here and he thinks that she hates him (which she does not). He seems to have forgotten that we already had a conversation about this. He seems reluctant to meet with Best Mate and I. I do understand and I am sure I would feel the same. Indeed, for different reasons, I would be very reluctant to go out to a place where his work colleagues were.

When I left it did not seem so strange, leaving the place we shared for over four years although, as I was getting in the lift, him leaning against the door post, there seemed a little sadness in his face, which made me feel sad, for a moment, for him and for us. But, maybe I was just imagining it.?

Anyway, there are no words that can really describe this whole thing. We have had, since I moved out, more conversation between us than we did in the last four months! And, to be honest, I enjoy his company; he’s a nice guy; funny, witty, always something to say. It was, at the same time, slightly strange and not strange at all, sitting at the table (our table?), eating the food he had prepared (food I had bought?), drinking the wine, talking and laughing – again, nothing heavy.

He’s much thinner of course. He looks more like his father now – slightly hollowed cheeks and almost with an anorexic look – it makes him look older, somehow, but no less attractive, of course.

I expect the heavy conversations are yet to come but, for now, it’s really nice. The ties are still strong but, maybe a little thinner than before – or maybe we’re using different rope now?  More importantly, will it change once he has moved?

Moving; Dino steals packing tape; other things

Posted on by
2

Well, it’s now Thursday as I wished. And, to be honest, I’m glad that yesterday is over even if everything is not perfectly sorted.

However, I do not have internet access right now. It is a post all on its own, so I will save it until later.

Yesterday was the whole range of emotions. I woke at four. Dozed until 5.45. Got to bed just after midnight. I am quite tired, as I’m sure you can imagine.

I went round to the flat the night before and had absolute panic as it was SO SMALL! So much so that I could not imagine how everything would fit in. This is part of the reason I was awake at four. I was going through different scenarios – would I have to get them to take some of it away; would I be able to sleep on the bed or would that be impossible – the place being stacked floor to ceiling with boxes.

The removal company arrived. I was, by this time going completely insane with worry, panic and about every other emotion you could imagine.

Dino, I found when I was packing some days earlier, really liked the sound of the packing tape being pulled out. You know, it makes that kind of screech (for want of a word that isn’t in my head) and it must be a particular pitch that he liked or, at least, found fascinating. First, as I was stretching the tape out to put over a box, he would be there, right in my face. A couple of times, if I put it on the floor or chair or something low enough for him to reach, I would turn round and find that it was suddenly gone and would then be trying to find Dino to retrieve it.

The removal men did quite a bit of packing, including putting protective packaging around pieces of furniture. Obviously, they were not, immediately, aware of Dino’s fascination. Until, after a very short while, Dino found that they were much more fun as they kept putting down a roll of tape within his reach, usually, on the floor. And so it became a game for him of trying to get hold of a roll of tape.

The men found this very funny and endearing. I spent nearly all my time, when not explaining something to the men, checking to see where Dino was and retrieving the roll of tape from him to give back to them.

And once, I actually saw him doing it – he was watching the man who was pulling out the tape; like any good thief, as the man put the tape down, he edges round a little so that he wasn’t going for the tape directly, then he almost crept forward, until he was there by the roll; snatching it quickly he then high-tailed it as fast as he could out of the room and to his bed! I watched him do this and couldn’t help but laugh. He’s not really a stupid dog, after all!

I did ask the removal men, several times, if they wanted me to shut him away but they seemed quite in love with him. They thought the stealing of the rolls of tape was quite funny too. Dino had many strokes and compliments during the morning. I left them (the dogs) in the old flat whilst moving into the new one as it was/is much smaller and I wouldn’t be able to shut them away anywhere. One of the men seemed quite disappointed that he wasn’t with me! Anyway, they do not seemed stressed at all.

By the afternoon I felt quite a lot better. Not only did all the stuff fit in (and I was able to sleep in my bed) but I now know it will be fantastic when everything is sorted. And, although there are lots of boxes, not as many as I thought. In fact, as they were finishing, I couldn’t believe it was all the stuff and asked them! To which they replied that it was! They also liked the new flat. Later A&F came round (last night) (I needed A to help with the internet connection) and they both said it was lovely but I think F really liked it as she said it was exactly the sort of place that she liked.

One problem, or, rather, potential problem, is that, the only door that actually closes shut is the one to the bathroom! Lets’ see how that goes but I may have to do something very fast to keep the boys separate whilst I am not in the house! I’ll let you know.

Meeting up with Helena Christensen

Posted on by
Reply

We get invited to some charity auction thing at Tommy Hilfiger’s. The shop is quite close to our house and we shall be meeting friends, so it will be nice.

We are late, of course. V has decided to wear his kilt. I no longer care if he wears a kilt with me around as I am no longer responsible and he can look as ridiculous as he wants. It’s impossible to tell him that he does not look good, especially when the Italian women just want to feel him up! But, I’m sorry, he just looks like a prat. His legs look shorter and stubby. It’s not a good look.

We arrive and wait for our friend with a second home on the lake (FfC). She arrives by taxi and we go in. Unfortunately, the apero part has, to all intents and purpose, finished and they are on to the charity auction. The room is filled with Italians who are there to be seen and would-be models walking around expecting something (probably attention). They spend most of their time looking around the room to see who is there that might be important. V tells me that ‘there is the guy from MTV’. This is lost on me since I rarely watch MTV and care less about someone who presents on MTV.

Luckily, there are waiters who are serving drinks. The trick is to grab a drink as they go past or, since these are free and this is Italy, beating your way through the throng to grab a glass.

The same for the bite-sized food that they are serving although by the time we are in they are on to deserts. One I had was two raspberries sandwiched with the tiniest amount of whipped cream. You get the idea.

FfC goes somewhere. V and I are alone for a moment. V says, excitedly, ‘There’s Helena Christensen’. I know the name. I knew she was going to be there.

‘Where?’ I ask.

She is standing with her back to us about 6 inches away. V is exasperated that I fail to recognise someone I am not interested in. However, she is dressed in an off-white (magnolia) dress that does look rather nice. She is not as tall as I would have thought. She’s older than I thought. I’m not really sure what I was expecting.

FfC arrives back and V excitedly tells her, having failed to make any real impression on me. FfC is suitably awed.

‘I want to have my photograph taken with her’, V exclaims!

She is standing next to a shortish guy who is, probably, someone very important. Maybe Tommy Hilfiger or someone? I don’t know. They are talking and I’m thinking that V, acting like a little super fan, is just going to be a pain in the arse for her.

‘I don’t have a phone that takes photos, can you use yours?’ he asks me.

So, he asks Helena for a photo and, graciously, she says yes. I am holding drinks so FfC tries to take the photo but cannot seem to do it so I handed her the glasses and I took it. I’m afraid it is not a good photo – we were outside, the lighting was not good and it’s only a phone camera – but it will have to do.

V_and_some_woman_called_Helena_Christensen
V and some woman, who is famous or something.

[Update:  After downloading it, it really is a dreadful photo but the only one I have, so there!]

After that, of course, the floodgates opened and everyone wanted their photo taken with her.

Anyway, she seemed really sweet and waved to us after several more photos had been taken and she was escaping with the little man! Oh, yes, and she also thanked us for coming. Hey, Helena, it was free booze and, had we got there earlier, free food as well! And, of course, we met you! What more could one ask?

After we went for an Indian with FfC and, once again, V explained about the ‘retreat’ weekend and more of that later in another post, probably.

Let’s talk about Net; It’s hardly working; Still, ‘no’ won’t come out of my mouth

Posted on by
2

Lets_talk_about_Net_Its_hardly_working_Still_no_wont_come_out_of_my_mouth

You have to sing the title to the tune of “Let’s talk about sex!”, if you see what I mean. At least, that was what was going through my head as I thought of the title.

Firstly, sorry to those of you who couldn’t read my blog yesterday. There was going to be a post but at about 9.30 a.m. or so our time, my blog went off-line. There then followed a slightly bizarre exchange of comments between me and the hosters of this site – 000webhost.

It started off OK. Instead of saying that the website was down, which is what I usually do, because I knew it was something to do with the database, I went for that instead.

They replied that I would have to upgrade if I wanted help with scripts. I didn’t as that wasn’t the problem. But then I had to go into more lengthy explanations as to why it was down.

Eventually, at about 3 in the afternoon they came back with “it will be fixed very shortly”.

By the time I got home and got my creaky, old laptop up and running, it had been about 3 hours. I rated this as a reasonable time to start asking again.

I got the reply that “it can take up to two hours”. Now I know that this is hosted somewhere where English is not a first language and it is completely free, so I feel I have to cut them a bit of slack. And, having taught English as a Second Language, I am aware of the way that something can be miss-said. So, I didn’t go mad but thought that, perhaps, what they really meant was that it might take up to another 2 hours. I responded to clarify my thinking.

It seems I was right. But the reply was a typical, non-mother-tongue-English speaker, using the word hardly instead of hard. It happens a lot here too. The response included the line “Our head admin is hardly working on it”. It makes me laugh every time. At work or with friends I do, gently, correct them. For those of you who are Italian it should read “Our head admin are working hard on it” or, even better, “Our head admin are working very hard on it”; hardly being very little – almost nothing and hard being very much.

So, this is being written at home and I may get it up there tonight but, probably, it will be tomorrow (i.e. Saturday).

So, I apologise for being off-line but that’s life and the hosting people are, overall, one of the best free hosters I’ve come across. I am toying with the idea of paying for it and moving more sites there but I will wait a little longer.

In other news, you’ve probably read about the British arm of Google/You Tube cutting off the supply to premium British content over the wrangling about how much they pay the artists. Now, in my opinion, there are pros and cons for both sides. However, the Music Industry need to get real. If you can’t find it on You Tube, because it’s been blocked, the obvious place to go is one of the more illegal download places – and then the Music Industry lose the money all together. It all seems a bit crazy to me. A little like the Luddites from the past. I realise that someone has to work out a new model but burying your head in the sand is just not the way.

And, as I suspected, I was asked something else – not the same as before (and that question may, even, still be open) – but very, very similar. Of course, I could not refuse but it makes me very, very nervous. And, of course, if I get let down again, this time, it will make things much more difficult in the future but, at least, I shall be more likely to say ‘no’, I guess.

Well, if it all goes horribly wrong then I shall, no doubt, lose my new flat and then I am likely to be very angry. However, all things being equal, I sign up a week on Tuesday and move in on the 15th of next month. I can’t wait! It will be home, at last, in a country that should feel home (and does, when I’m away from it), rather than a place of transience.

Tonight (or last night as you read this) we are off to FfI’s for a supper and drinks. It should be nice.

Update: Up early this morning. Worried about the question asked. The things that need to be done. There’s a lot of reliance on me; a lot of trust that I need to have but is, sadly, lacking. And yet, still I can’t say “no”. Damn!

The Unravelling and update

Posted on by
5

Today is one of those days. Whilst everything is going OK (at work and at home, given all the situations), I have this slightly strange feeling that, in a single moment, one little thing could mean that everything starts unravelling and collapse in a jumble on the floor.

Continue reading →

The Island in the centre of the City; Know any good restaurants for lunch in Parma, dear reader?

Posted on by
6

Last night, we (that is V & I) were invited for dinner at FfI’s. When we reached Isola, V went ahead to her place and I went to get her some cigarettes from a place that she had told me about. It’s a slightly strange thing here because cigarettes are sold only at tabaccherias (tobacconist shops). You cannot buy them at supermarkets nor off-licences but only where they have the ‘T’ sign outside.

Continue reading →

Being David Bowie!

Posted on by
4

The other day, at work, G asked me:

“Do you like David Bowie?”
“Yes,” I replied, “Why?”
“Because you look a bit like him.”

Now, for me, David Bowie, throughout his life, has been one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. There is something about him that oozes style.

I don’t really think I look anything like him but I was chuffed with the compliment, all the same.