Tag Archives: F Says…..

Four things

Posted on by
4

I have to tell you that the weekend away was fabulous.

No, better than fabulous.

But more on that later (or, even, another post).

The four important things were:

1. “Why should you cut your hair?”
2. “What is that perfume? I like it.”
3. “If we moved in together …….”
4. He bought me a present and, as last year, I didn’t buy him one.

1. I was saying that I really should do something with my hair and pick a style or cut it. His response made me think that he quite likes it.

2. I told him that it’s one of my favourites and that I had worn it before and he replied that he knew that but he really liked the smell. I told him that they didn’t make it any more, which is a shame. I also said that I thought it suited me and he agreed. With his sense of smell, it’s nice that he likes it.

3. It was a ‘what if….’ thing that came up, instigated by him, obviously. But, I got the impression that, as time goes on, he is seriously considering it. We shall see. Nothing can possibly happen for a year, anyway. But he did say that it seemed quite stupid to have a flat and not actually use it and that if we got together, for the same amount as we are paying now, we could get quite a large place.

4. Yesterday was our anniversary. I can hardly believe that it has only been 2 years. It feels like much longer. But it has been a fabulous couple of years and I do hope for many, many more. I don’t know why I don’t get him a present. However, I had paid for the weekend away, as he pointed out. So, I suppose it was something.

Milleluci – restaurant or bar?

Posted on by
Reply

“I’ll wait outside”, he says, “It’s very gay”

But he wouldn’t tell me over the FB chat. He waited until we were there.

We were using another Groupon coupon. For a restaurant called Milleluci. On FB chat I translated it as ‘a thousand lights’.

“Yes”, he said, “that’s correct but I’ll have to tell you later why it’s very gay”.

I got there first. It was very gay. There were gay people outside and when we got in, it was very gay.

It’s a bar and a restaurant – bar at the front and restaurant at the rear. It’s open from 6 p.m. until 2 a.m.

The service was great, especially as F did his usual and chatted to the waiter (maybe owner) about the restaurant and how fabulous it all was. Milleluci was some TV programme or something with Mina and some other singer. All very showy and very gay. It’s a restaurant that has memorabilia from that time (80s, I think). It’s red. And black. It has hand-painted red tables with a picture of an Italian diva of that time pasted on top. It has hand-made posters/pictures on the wall – again of the divas of that time. The music is also of that time.

There is a glitter-ball in the centre of the restaurant/bar. I suppose it’s mainly for the bar but WTF?

V and I used to go to this restaurant before, some years ago, before it became a very gay restaurant/bar. When it was run by some North Africans/Turkish people or something. Anyway, then they closed. Since then there have been a few restaurants and bars that have opened in it’s place ….. only to close within a year or so. The last I knew, it was a sushi restaurant – that was always empty.

And, now it’s Milleluci.

It’s a nice, trendy bar/restaurant. The waiter (or owner) was very nice. We had our plate of cold meats and salami to start with a prune/sausage/sage and something ‘thing’ that was lovely. We had a glass of prosecco as well. Then cold meats were nice. It came with a kind of onion marmalade that was also nice.

F chose some wine. It was good. The next course was a choice from their range of pasta, chalked up on a board. F had leek and something (which was really lovely) and I had the taglietelle with ragù (meat). I wish I had had F’s. Unfortunately, mine was not so brilliant and part of the pasta was dry and another part it had stuck together. But the taste was OK.

The main course was a choice of two meat dishes. I chose the costata (basically a chop) which came with potatoes. F, not liking meat, had one of their starters. Burrata I have mentioned before. I wish I had that too rather than my chop. Burrata is a kind of mozzerella. It is like having a soft, light butter but it is really divine. F’s was as good as I have tasted. Unfortunately, although my chop was cooked fine, it was tough. The potatoes would have been better if they had been a bit crispy – but they had a nice taste. The meat was nice tasting – it was a shame it was not such a good piece.

Then I had some chocolate thing, whilst F had their fruits-of-the-forest cheesecake. This was the only time I preferred my choice. Cheesecake, here, in Italy, I find too heavy.

We paid €20 for the wine. I suppose a meal with antipasto, secondo and sweet would have set you back about €25 per head – so, in the end, we would have paid €70-80 with the wine – but, obviously, we had more food than we would normally have.

It’s a nice, friendly place. We would (probably will) go there again but I will be more careful with my selection next time. Also, I won’t eat so much because now I am very fat.

In the end, they asked us to come to their one-year anniversary party, next Monday. Yes, they were very nice people. After all, they were gay and, as F said, “Gay people know how to treat their customers well”. It made me laugh …. inside, of course.

We talked about the Knox verdict and stuff as well. I will give you the results of my “survey” in the next post.

Books that should never have been written and films that should never have been made.

Posted on by
4

Of course, it’s all a matter of personal taste.

But, you know, there’s some things that just should never have happened.

There was a book I read once, a long time ago. It was about a teenage boy who ‘kidnapped’ his babysitter and everything just got a ‘bit out of hand’. I don’t remember the title. I do remember that I truly hated it. Not because it wasn’t well-written (although I can’t remember if it was or wasn’t) and not because the book was horrific or anything – although it was.

No, the problem was that the things depicted in the book were such that, if you had imagined them in the first place, in my opinion, you had problems and should see someone to get them fixed.

Recently there was something in the newspapers about Human Caterpillar 2 (which, from what I understand, has now been banned in the UK). So I found a copy of Human Caterpillar (the first version – which the protagonist watched in the second version). I’m afraid, not only could I not watch it all the way through, but I had to skip through it, using fast forward most of the time.

Not only was it boring and (to me, remember) utterly stupid and pointless but it was also the product of a very sick mind. I don’t know that I could have acted in it (although, on second thoughts, no one has offered me money to act – so maybe I would for the right incentive – after all, it wasn’t actually real, was it?) At the end of it all, it wasn’t a good film but the story did not need to be filmed at all. In fact, should not be filmed at all.

Anyway, having seen HC (the first version), even in FF mode, I’m certainly NOT going to be going out to find a copy of HC2.

And where is this going, you are (maybe) saying to yourself?

Well, over our holidays it’s been mentioned during conversations with others how much F likes going to cinema and how we never do. Apparently this is because I don’t understand Italian and so we don’t go. I pointed out that I have no problem going and, in fact, would enjoy the experience, particularly if I have looked the film up online first so have a basic understanding (and, maybe, have seen some clips in English).

F is a BIG fan of the director Almodovar and so it was that, on Saturday night last, we went to see this:

Now, I looked at the trailer (as above), I read what synopsis I could find (and because no one would give the plot away, finding the actual important bits was difficult – but I found them) and looked at the book it was based on (online, of course).

I knew it would be a ‘difficult’ film and not only because it would all be in Italian!

I sat through it all. I’d paid for it, so of course I did.

I tried to enjoy the “beauty” of the filming but I was struck, overall, by the same feelings as reading that book and watching that other film.

Why?

I mean ‘Why make it’?

What made him think that this was either believable or good? I wasn’t shocked (although maybe that was because I knew the story beforehand), nor frightened, nor, even, disgusted. I was more than disgusted. It wasn’t a horrible film because it was gory. It wasn’t even a horrible film because of the story, as such. Whereas, for most of the film I kind of understood what was going on – I mean I could follow the idea of the film, even if I didn’t think it was an amazing story, in the last few scenes the whole thing became preposterous. I’d patiently waited for the big twist to happen and then, when it did, I felt that I’d been cheated by an atrocious (and sick and unbelievable) plot.

I don’t dislike Almodovar but I left the cinema wondering why he had made it. Worse still (if it is true), F said that he had wanted to make this for years!

Put it this way, not only will I not be buying it on DVD, I won’t be watching it ever again.

Never doing anything; Work or not?

Posted on by
Reply

I get easily hurt.

V didn’t realize quite how much he’d hurt me until sometime after we had split. The night I made him cry. He said – “I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you”. Yeah. Well. Too late now, isn’t it? Yes, it is. And it was too late then and, even, before then.

The problem, of course, is not him, nor them but me. I know that but, still, I can’t change it – the way I am, I mean.

His father said that nothing had been prepared so we couldn’t come. He told him that he had told his mum the night before that we would come over tonight. And he did. I was there and, even if I don’t understand Italian, I understood that. I told him that he had told his mum. “Good”, he said, “I thought I was going mad”.

“What shall we do?”

Now, for me, this is not a problem. We could do anything and that’s OK. I suggested a couple of things. One was too expensive. Another was too far. The third was …… well, he explained, it’s Saturday night. He meant that we would never get in. It would be too busy.

“So, what shall we do?”

“I don’t know”, I replied.

“We never do anything”, he says, spitefully.

See, there. That’s the wounding thing. Why? I mean to say, why say such a nasty, untrue thing. Of course, this plays over and over in my mind over the next few days and on the trip back home. It’s not true or, if it is true then it’s because he is ‘a little bit tired’; ‘has a bad back’ or ‘doesn’t feel to’ (sic). Or is so late over at mine that it’s too late to do anything.

I think about the times that I’ve suggested things. Going to the cinema; going for a drink with friends; visiting somewhere. It’s simply not fair or reasonable to throw that one at me.

Later, I think that he’s angry with his mum. Which he is. Often. It would seem.

But I don’t like it when he takes out that anger on me. Worse still is that I am left so shocked by it that the logical thoughts that answer it afterwards do exactly that. Answer it afterwards. Often days later. Not at the time. At the time, I go quiet. I say nothing. It makes me feel powerless and useless and, unsurprisingly, more hurt. In any event, I don’t like it.

And it’s all a bit ‘gay’. By that I mean, his thing – it’s all a little bit dramatic. And I’m not a lover of the dramatic and particularly the over-dramatic.

And, so, next time this starts, I shall be saying that, not only is it not true but it is also not fair nor reasonable. And then stop. Busting for a fight really doesn’t do it for me. Nor does thinking of the correct response afterwards.

And then I read Annie’s blog post and particularly Rita’s (wise old bird that she must be) thing about not confusing love with praise and attention. It’s difficult though since lovers always heap praise on you and give you their full attention. And then, when the love has worn off ……? Worse, of course, is when there is plenty of praise and attention which seems like love but is actually just praise and attention.

And some people are mean fuckers and know that what you want is love but you will assume that praise and attention IS love and so they pile on the praise and attention because of their needs without any love behind it. Like a cheese sauce that looks like a cheese sauce until you taste it – when you find out it is a cheese sauce without the cheese – which is just a tasteless gloopy sauce.

On a side note, I really, really have to do something about my job. And by ‘do something’, I mean get out of this. This was NOT what I intended to do when I got here. The introduction of more petty rules and regulations drives me to distraction. It’s so easy to fall into the rut of being in work and so paying the bills and then getting caught up in all the crap AT work – where you think (and it sneaks up on you so that you hardly notice) that work is, in fact, the world whereas, in fact, not only is work NOT the world but it is also much less significant than anything else. Apart from paying the bills, that is. But that’s not really a good enough reason to stay in this narrowing and blinkering environment, is it? Is it? No, it isn’t.

So, what to do? My mind screams ‘anything – so long as it’s not here’.

Of course, as I have learnt, everywhere is the same. And, probably, everywhere, even your home, has a dangerous tendency to become ‘world’ and grow its pettiness accordingly.

Bah!

Our July was stolen!

Posted on by
2

It’s all gone a little awry.

Let’s be honest, June and July were, as far as the weather was concerned, a bit of a let down. Where were the 40° highs? It was, mostly, warmish but really nothing like previous years.

August started off quite mediocre and then, around the 15th it seemed that July had come, finally. Like August had nicked July.

Milan is now hot. I mean to say that this morning, at just after 7, on my drive to work, the temperatures were reading 27°. It was also about that, this morning, around 6 when I took the dogs out. The forecast I use says it will get to 33° this afternoon but I think it will be hotter.

F is not really happy about it since he’s not really into heat and, now that our holidays are over, he wants it to cool down.

The dogs aren’t really happy either but they have plenty of fresh water.

OK, so even I have to admit, lying in bed at night with sweat pouring off me isn’t the most comfortable of things. However, it’s only going to last until about Thursday, so I’m sure I’ll manage.

Oh yes, I suppose I could get some air conditioning – but it would be for about a week a year so hardly worth it and, anyway, I couldn’t use it if F were there because, like all Italians, they are susceptible to ‘air’. This can produce many illnesses which include a sore throat and, in F’s case, a bad back. I was allowed to keep the fan on last night but only with it pointing away from us. When I left this morning he said he wasn’t feeling well. I guess there’ll be no fan tonight!

Knowing me, knowing you

Posted on by
Reply

He thinks he knows me now.

This is good and bad. It makes me laugh and makes me annoyed, depending on the situation.

We’re at the supermarket checkout. He complains that this line is too slow. I say, “Never mind, we’re on holiday”.

A few moments later, I start laughing. I had been watching the checkout man scanning the stuff through. For each item, he took several moments to find the barcode, then scan it, the read the label of the good, then place it carefully on the conveyor belt, before carefully selecting the next item to be scanned. He was very, very slow. As F said, the checkout girl on the next counter scanned four items to his one.

But, for some reason it just made me laugh and soon F was laughing too. As was some woman a couple of people behind us.

Later he said that he was right about the slowness and that I had, as usual, done my internal rolling of my eyes, and issued my usual conciliatory remark.

He was right about what I was thinking and doing after all, I’ve had over 20 years of practice with V and it’s automatic.

….. to be continued ….

My head, my face and what actually comes out of my mouth.

Posted on by
2

It is 7.30 a.m. The sign reads 25°C.

I like it a lot although it is pretty humid, especially last night.

And, about last night. We went for a beer, just the two of us. We were chatting and P, my next-door neighbour came into Polpetta. We were chatting. She’s giving up her flat. Her lease runs out and they are increasing the rent – considerably. It’s too much for just one person and times is hard, especially in her line of work. And, so, she’s moving out of Milan, in November. It’s a shame as she is the only one in the building that I speak to.

F asked her about her rent. She does have a really good deal now, for sure. F and I talked about the flat below mine. I have asked about the cost of that flat. They will let me know in September. Then he asked about checking out the one with the terrace that is opposite the courtyard from mine.

And then he said (again) about how he couldn’t live with anyone again. The reason is: what happens when we split up?

I don’t say anything stupid like ‘Well, that’s not going to happen’. That would provoke the response of ‘You never know. Nothing lasts forever’. Instead I say, ‘Yes, I understand what you mean’.

And, I’m not really sure how this happened, but then he said, within the next 10 minutes that, perhaps we could live together and ‘would I want that?’.

My face stays flat. Without emotion. In my head I am screaming that yes, of course that’s what I want. My face says nothing and my mouth says, ‘Well, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about a cleaner’ and then I laugh.

It’s almost as if, if I don’t say what I really want, that’s what I get from him. It’s different to any other relationship I’ve had before.

And now, because I received the anonymous email and then made an unexpected post, last night, I’ve reached post 999.

As I’ve mentioned, I’ve written post 1000. I’ll set it to publish whilst I’m away. It gives you, my dear reader, something to look forward to. I hope it doesn’t disappoint and hopefully, the guy won’t manage to get my blog taken down in the meantime but I have backups and, if it does go, it should be back within a couple of days after I come back from my holiday.

Enjoy. E buona vacanza

Words and deeds. Chalk and cheese.

Posted on by
2

Just like eating food, here, means that people talk about food, so going on holiday leads to people talking about holidays. Not always this one but future ones.

Sunday. Lunch. It was F’s Dad’s birthday and it reminded me that it was only a year ago when I first met ‘the Family’. In fact, this time last year, we went to the same restaurant, the day after his birthday. For his birthday, the whole family went to a fantastic restaurant on the side of a mountain. The Sunday was a lunch at a restaurant at the beach.

We’re back at the same restaurant. This time it is different. This time I know the people and they know me. There is talk – of holidays. F is suggesting that we could go to Sicily next year. There is talk of his sister coming plus brother-in-law and niece. Apparently, I learn, they have a house down in Sicily too!

I’ve never been to Sicily. I have been told it is a wonderful place. I would very much like to go. He asks if I would like to go and I say ‘yes’.

There is talk about the travel down there – plane, boats and road. I think F wants to take the plane from Milan. His brother-in-law is suggesting ferries. The first leg to Naples and the second to Messina. It’s cheaper that way. Each journey will be about 6 hours, apparently.

It is accepted that I will be there. I like it a lot. Even if S gets mentioned quite often, it’s not said in any way to make me feel uncomfortable (which it doesn’t). Anyway, it seems that barring the detail, next year it will be Sicily in a house I didn’t know about!

Except.

Of course, words are one thing. Deeds are another.

We’re at Polpetta with An, last night. The talk is of holidays. Her parents have a house in Puglia. F says that we will go there next year. I say it would be lovely. Of course it would. I learn that F hasn’t actually been back to Sicily since he was about 12!!!!!! He says it won’t be a real holiday since it would mean having to go round to relatives all the time. And lots of eating. But, since he hasn’t been there since he was 12, I’m thinking that he doesn’t really know. It’s OK anyway. I know these are words. Words are very different from deeds – at least, to him.

We differ a lot.

I empathise with the Sicily problem although, quite obviously, I don’t see this as a problem. I can empathise because I’ve heard it several times before. So when I say ‘Yes, of course’, I mean ‘Yes, of course, I’ve heard this before’. When I say ‘It’s not really a holiday’, I’m repeating what he has already said to me and not because I actually believe it.

So, this year is set. One week in Carrara followed by one week in Umbria – where we went last year.

Next year is only words. It’s OK. Maybe it will be Sicily or maybe Puglia or maybe just Carrara (He’s mentioned that already as it will be much cheaper). To be honest, I don’t really mind, as long as I’m with him.

Oh yes, and last night it is mentioned that we shall be going to Sardinia in May. Or maybe St Tropez. Or some place in the very south of Spain. It’s his friends 50th birthday and she wants to celebrate big time. I wonder when he knew? I wonder why he’s only told me now? Still, words are only words.

You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you

Posted on by
2

(A weekend or two ago)

I can’t remember why it came up. But the end was something like this:

“It’s lucky that you have a boyfriend who loves your dogs so much.”

“Yes, this is true, but I would like to be loved too.” Now that I write it down, it sounds so whiney. But it wasn’t like that. It was almost a throw-away line. A kind of joke.

It is true, of course. I do feel like that but I know that he does love me. Sometimes though, I’d quite like to be told.

“If I didn’t love you”, he replies, “you wouldn’t be here.”

And I know that to be true also.

The problem with him was ………..

Posted on by
Reply

26/7/11

You know how it is with couples. There’s one that you really like and one that you don’t like so much. OK, that’s not always true but you know what I mean. Of course, if you were the friend of one before the relationship started, then you are bound to like them better, aren’t you? Even if you like them both, of course. Even if you’ve always known them as a couple there’s probably one that you gravitate towards and that one you like better.

It makes me happy to see someone with someone they love and who I like too – but the one you’ve known before is the one that you hope ‘doesn’t get hurt’.

The problem really comes when you really dislike (I hesitate to say ‘hate’) one of the two. Often it can end a ‘beautiful’ friendship.

It’s not the first time it’s been said to me. I suppose everyone makes comparisons and I can’t stop them saying it but I find it interesting.

V wasn’t perfect, obviously; otherwise we’d still be together. Some people say that they didn’t like him directly whilst others say the same thing but in much more diplomatic ways. Sure, he could be ‘difficult’ but I really didn’t realize that so many people thought so. I always thought that he was ‘more liked’ than me – not that it was a competition – just because it was that way. I didn’t have a problem with it. I was, kind of, grateful, to be in his shadow, so to speak.

But now people say that they felt ‘uncomfortable’ with him. That he ‘didn’t really like me’. Things like that. Even if F is ‘the same’ (which he isn’t really but since we’re trying to draw comparisons ……) he is different.

But now I know it wasn’t always so. Some people preferred me, after all. Wow!

I don’t mean that I thought they didn’t like me, I just thought that most people preferred V. V was more gregarious, more chatty, more friendly, etc., etc.

Of course, he was also more false. I knew that but I didn’t want that to be known. And, apart from this blog, I don’t say it to others, even now. Since most of the people who knew him, when we were together, don’t read this blog or read it so infrequently, I can post it here.

But then, these people from the ‘past’ meet F. People like F. He’s quite like V but less false; kinder, somehow; genuine. People like him instantly. They congratulate me on finding someone so nice. It makes me sorry for V but, I suppose, those people that remain friends of V like him too. I’ve never asked them to choose. It’s OK by me. I was with him for a long time and I liked him for many reasons. The things I disliked, eventually, drove us apart but that doesn’t mean that, overall, I didn’t like him.

However, now that people can ‘talk freely’, they say what they thought and still think.

I’m guessing V was right to ‘defriend’ so many people as he did when we split.

In a way, though, it’s a shame that people didn’t see the side that made me fall in love with him and only saw the side that made me fall out of love. Or perhaps it’s me who’s being stupid?