Tag Archives: Bars

Ticket hunting after rash promising

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We have visitors coming over in July.

I like it when visitors come from the UK. There is so much to see and do in Milan and I do like to ‘show it off’ for, as you know, I love this city. F was talking about taking them to Venice as, for him, Venice is better. But, since the Sunday will be their anniversary and they would prefer to ‘be alone’, we probably shan’t go.

I have, of course, promised something that now seems to be a little more difficult than a) I thought and b) it was in the past.

I have, rashly, promised tickets to go and see ‘The Last Supper’. Given that my old telephone ‘died’, I lost the telephone number I had and, stupidly, I didn’t add it to this blog.

Searching the internet was not the easiest of tasks either but, eventually, I got a few different numbers. The one that is supposed to be ‘direct’ is constantly engaged. I don’t believe it. I am persistent. I am Taurean, after all. It seems that this is a false number or they only actually put it on the hook for an hour a day or something like that. We are in Italy so either is a real possibility.

There is an online booking service (but I think you will pay more). However, on that service, the tickets for June were only made available today. I checked this morning, several times. June tickets were not ‘up’. I checked again, about one hour ago. June tickets were up and everything was sold out apart from four days towards the end of June – and then, only at certain times. Bah! Sometimes this country really does annoy me.

And so I keep trying. I am quite determined. I will also try some of the other numbers – just in case.

I also thought of taking them to the Dialogo nel Buio (Dialogue in the Dark) as this is a great experience. It might not be open at the end of July but I only want to ring and ask once I have tickets to The Last Supper.

Obviously, as this is their first time in Milan, they have to see the Duomo. Also a trip around Via Montenapoleone and Via della Spiga is essential.

Plus some really nice restaurants. And some time for ‘bar sitting’, especially as it will be hot.

But, first, The Bloody Last Bloody Buggering Supper! Grrrrrr.

Update: I got through to one number. She can’t book for July yet and doesn’t know when they will be come available but about a month from now, she thinks. However, she explained that she has more days/tickets available than those shown on the website. Double grrrrrrr.

Disastro!

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OK, so maybe that’s a slight exaggeration.

Last night I saw that my phone was very low on charge. However, this was after we had been to Polpetta (F, An and I) and so I could not stay up long for it to charge. I charged it a bit and it ‘said’ there were two bars of charge. It’s enough.

Except, obviously, it lied. It was not on two bars. During the night it ran out of battery and switched itself off.

This morning, after a rather good night’s sleep, I opened my eyes to see the time was eight minutes past seven.

“Shit!”, I jumped out of bed. The dogs had a short walk. I still had a coffee (as without that I cannot survive), a shower but no shave and rushed out almost an hour late starting to work.

The traffic was terrible.

That’s because there had been a bad accident. Today! The day I am late! I suddenly start driving like an Italian, crossing a dual carriageway exactly as they do! Sometimes I scare myself. I mutter to myself (really I did this), “When in Italy …….”.

Then there were stupid drivers. Then there was a truck blocking the road. It took me an hour to get to work and so I arrived at 9. Grrrr.

Also, I have to admit to you, dear reader that I have, again, fallen off the wagon just a little bit. The night before last I ate two Mars bars. Last night I had two beers.

On the bright side, I have not had a bread roll since I went on the non-diet :-)

Other bright sides: I had almost an hour and a half’s extra sleep; it is Friday; the weather is warmer (or, rather not so cold); tonight I go out with A to Polpetta (he may not talk to me because of the last time) and then we join F and An to go to the Taverna della Lamparo; on Sunday, we shall go for breakfast with An and then, later, for lunch at the Alle Colline Senesi with her. (All links are on the side)

And, Saturday night is the final of the Festival of San Remo, which is televised and which we MUST watch. Well, F MUST watch it and so, we will.

And you? What fun things will you be doing over the weekend?

Evening of Day three and start of Day four – a little set back or two.

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Well, depending on how you look at it, it’s all going rather well or it’s a complete disaster!

Like the button of yesterday, today has had it’s broken thing too. However, I only noticed once I got to work. Actually I only noticed after I had dropped the car off and was walking to work.

The car is being cleaned. This weekend we go for a night away using the Smart Box present that F got for his birthday last year. We have to use it now because it expires at the end of this month! And so we shall need to use the car. Since the car has not been cleaned since about last September and, knowing F’s slight obsession with cleanliness, I thought it better to get it cleaned :-D

And as I’m walking from the garage to work, something doesn’t feel quite right. It is, in fact, my shoe. The sole is coming apart from the uppers. These were €30 shoes that I bought about 18 months ago. I’ve been, sort of, meaning to throw them out for a month or so but being a stingy bastard, kept wearing them. Tonight, they will be thrown away. Today they have to survive. I will try not to walk too much.

Of course, I don’t think that the shoes are really like the button of yesterday. It is not caused by my fatness – unless my whole body is becoming bloated and I have some dread disease! But, I think not.

And, to add to this, last night was a bit of a set back too. I didn’t do the ‘wine diet’ last night. F joined us in Polpetta (again!) and he wanted beer. So, I thought, OK it’s only 1 night – for this one night I change to a ‘beer diet’ – except a ‘beer diet’ WILL make you fat – so I think I will drop it tonight. Oh, yes. I also had a very tiny piece of hard cheese, a couple of pieces of salami and, unfortunately because it was really nice, a couple of small pieces of bread with some very nice ricotta. So I suppose it was more than a little set back. More of a mountain of a set back. But, as I say, it was only one night.

Tonight it will be back to the ‘wine diet’.

Oh yes, and hopefully, some sushi.

But sushi isn’t fattening and you can eat as much as you like too!

It depends on B but I’m secretly hoping that she is up for the sushi.

So it will be white wine (which, to be frank, is even less fattening than red wine) and sushi. And maybe that nice manzo that they do. It’s only a small dish so that’s not really fattening either. And they don’t do bread at sushi restaurants so it will be fine.

I confess that I lied a bit at the beginning of this post. The bit about it going rather well. Quite obviously, it’s not but, luckily, I’m not overly worried. I mean, you can’t just change these things overnight, can you? On the bright side – it has been four days since I had a Mars bar. Perhaps I will turn straight! :-D

How old are you?; Inside a Lava Lamp; Cooking and DIY; Rufus; Oh, yes, and I win the lottery

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Miserable bloody weather that it was ….. and still is.

We get the day off on the 1st November. Some catholic thing about the day of the dead. To me, it’s a holiday. And, at a really stupid time of year! I mean, October/November? I ask you, why?

And so, from Saturday night, it rained. And rained. And rained. And rained. Well, you get the idea. It was grim with a capital ‘G’. After today it will be fine …….. until Saturday, when it’s forecast to …..piss down with rain!

Still, it meant, more or less, a weekend at home. We had been offered a trip to the Turin area and lunch at some restaurant. F didn’t really want to go. He doesn’t like the bad weather either, really. Anyway, the trip was to be Sunday when the forecast said it would rain all day (which it did, more or less), so F cancelled our ‘booking’. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Friday.

A (his Milanese friend who lives in London) called. We were going to go for for an aperitivo at Polpetta (see link at side). He was just waiting for her to call when she was on her way. He phones/texts me about 9 to say they are on their way and would pick me up (since I live 2 seconds from Polpetta). On our walk there it is decided that we shall skip the aperitivo and go straight for the Pizza at Liù, which is just across the road from Polpetta.

Whilst we are eating, I get a call from M. M is F’s colleague and the second one I ever met. She speaks English at about the same level as I did before I moved here – if not worse. She is sweet and loveable and we get on really well, in spite of the language which, after a few beers, is not a barrier. She drinks like a fish (or like a cow, as F would say). Before I answer, I say to F that it is strange, her calling me (they are almost best friends, after all). I answer.

“How old are you?”, she asks in a clearly drunken stupor. There is someone (I guess L, their other friend) in the background shouting stuff at her. I know what she means. “I’m very well, thanks”, I reply. She talks some more. I understand nothing. I pass the phone to F.

It seems they are at some bar and want us to join them. The husbands/partners are watching football. M rang me rather than F because she knows F too well and knew he might not answer the phone :-). C is there too as her husband, Ma, who is English, is with the men watching the football.

After our meal we walk up to the Atomic Bar. They are waiting outside. F had told me, on the way there, that when he and S got together, they used to go there a lot. There are a lot of English people that go there. I cannot beat the description on the link – ‘Like hanging out inside a lava lamp”! We have a couple of beers. Ma joins us after the football. The music is too loud and I cannot hear people well, who, in any event, are all talking in Italian. I stand no chance. Plus, I am tired. We leave sometime after midnight, just after it starts to liven up a bit. Rather than English, I would say it is frequented by a lot of students. I am old enough to be their grandfather – not that I care but the loud music and stuff, although good, doesn’t fit well with how tired I am. I am glad to go.

Saturday.

The man came to put the cupboards up in the bathroom. These were the cupboards I bought from IKEA a few weeks ago. I assembled the cupboards but wasn’t quite confident to put them up – although, before I had assembled them I was so confident in my head. I mean, how difficult could it possibly be?

Well, apparently, quite difficult. As I watched him heave them up and there being a lot of cazzoing, I thought that, actually, I had been somewhat crazy to even imagine that I could have done this myself …… on my own! And he even had all the right tools! He looked at my light but couldn’t fix it (so I called the electrician – who may be there on Friday) and looked at my shutters in the bedroom (one of them wouldn’t close) and did fix that, sort of. But the important thing is that it now closes and (almost) opens.

Then, as I had arranged with F, we went to buy my new cooker. I had gone two weeks previously and found the one that I quite liked. It’s all gas, which is my preference but wider and slightly deeper than the current one but, more importantly than anything else, does not just have High, Low and Off but rather gas marks! I can’t wait. I shall be able to cook things properly with much less guessing. Anyway, Saturday was the last day for the offer for free delivery and free fitting which, with gas, is a must. Not really a DIY thing at all, especially for me! Also, the nice thing was that they will deliver on Friday! So I can plan a meal.

Saturday night we went to A’s place. F2 was there too although they are still not really ‘together’. F talks so much. Afterwards I said that he didn’t have to do so much talking. He replied that if he didn’t there would be nobody talking. I think this is not true but I think it is also when he is a bit nervous. The food was great, as usual. It started to rain just after we got there. And almost hasn’t stopped since. We left quite early as I was still tired.

Sunday.

The clocks went back. It means an extra hour in bed. Well, it would mean an extra hour – unless you have small children or dogs. I have dogs. The dogs didn’t put their clocks back. Plus Rufus is ill. I know this will mean a diarrhea mess in the kitchen, even if we do get up quite early. He can’t help it, of course. It does mean exactly that. We take them for a walk after I clean up. It is only spitting but, even so, we bypass the dog walking area – it is too wet and muddy for that. F didn’t have a good night. I did – it just wasn’t long enough.

He wants me to do Crumble again. This time I will do apple and blackberry. He also wants Shepherd’s Pie (as he calls it for, really, it should be Cottage Pie). He also wants carrots the way that A did them last night. I also want to try the Roasted Tomato Soup that I made a few weeks ago.

He goes home and I go shopping. They don’t have fresh Thyme, so I get dried. I forget to get bread (which I realise when it is too late). I get everything else I need. The supermarket (Carrefour in Via Modena) closes just as I am getting the last couple of things – which explains why it is so quiet in there – but this makes it a million times better than going to Esselunga, where I would have had to fight to get round and then queue up for about half an hour at the tills. I even manage to get a bus as I get to Via Castel Morrone! I am very happy.

I start the cooking when I get back. I think the tomato soup will be too much, so one tomato is omitted. I put too much black pepper on them (as I find out later). The Apple And Blackberry Crumble is both easy and will be fine, even if I don’t know how to get cooking apples, so it may be a little too sweet. The Shepherd’s Pie will be huge. I have just the perfect glass dish for it.

I am doing the Blackberry and Apple Crumble, the soup has been done and the Shepherd’s Pie is in the oven when there is the sound of a small explosion and steam comes from the cooker! Shit, I think to myself. I open the door of the oven. There is a lot of steam and hissing and the flames of the gas fire are yellow and bigger than they should be. It takes me a moment or two to realise that the glass was obviously not oven-proof as I had thought and has split. Shepherd’s Pie filling is all over the bottom of the oven. I turn the oven off and carefully lift out the remains of the glass dish. I put it on the side and the gravy starts dribbling nicely down the ‘curtain’ and onto the floor. Hmmmph! I think about it for a moment. Luckily, the glass has cracked (and come off) only on two of the corners. I can rescue most of it. Of course, to be certain I don’t have any glass in the part I am going to rescue, I need to leave quite a lot behind. However, there will be enough for the two of us for a couple of days, even now. I try to clean a very hot oven. Not very well but enough (I hope) to allow me to continue. Ah, well, the cooker goes away on Friday so who cares?

I have moved my computer into the kitchen, on to the kitchen table, since I need the internet to see the recipes. It works much better than me having to traipse from the kitchen to the lounge and trying to remember the next couple of steps. Also, I can listen to music or watch a film or something whilst I am cooking.

The plan is to eat early. I feel like I have been on my feet all day by the time F arrives at about 7.30. We sit down at 8. The meal is great apart from, slightly too much black pepper in the soup. The Shepherd’s Pie is the best I have ever done. The Apple and Blackberry Crumble is fantastic with whipped cream. I am very pleased. So is F. I decide I’m going to try Swiss Steak (a winter favourite of mine) and hope that he will eat the meat. I think I may try it at the weekend with my new cooker.

We play cards a bit, watch some TV, I take the dogs out (in the rain – did I mention that it rained almost ALL weekend?) and we go to sleep.

Monday (we are on holiday).

I am woken by, what seems to be, Rufus’ last breath. He has, what can best be described as, a very bad cold. It seems he is struggling to breathe. It wakes me up. It is 2.30 a.m. The long drawing of breath so loud as to wake me in the first place. I get up to check he’s OK. He’s OK but this is the second time in the last few days that this has happened. I worry that it’s not just a cold. I think that, just now, there seems to be something wrong nearly every week. He is very, very thin at his back end. When you rub his back you can feel every bone as if they are speed humps in the road. I decide to get up and have a drink. I go to the kitchen where, now, the computer is. I clean up the mess from Rufus. I have a drink and look at the computer. I chat with someone who is online through Facebook. They tell me to go back to bed. I do. I awake again just before 9. It is still raining.

F gets up to take the dogs out on a short walk. Short because it is still raining. Meanwhile, I clean up the mess from Rufus. I wonder when this will end. F has suggested that we won’t go to Austria for Christmas and New Year whilst Rufus is like this. I mean, whilst Rufus is alive. F says that he hopes he isn’t here when Rufus dies. I don’t tell him that, in all probability, it will be my choice and that I will take him to the vet, so he won’t see it anyway. I know that he won’t come. That’s OK. I worry that, just a little, I feel that I almost ‘want’ Rufus to go or get so bad that he has to go – just so I can go to Austria for Christmas. It makes me feel very guilty. But then, last night (well at 2.30 a.m.), I think that, anyway, it won’t be long.

However, I remember feeling just as guilty before, with Ben, while we were waiting for him to go before we came to Italy. That made me feel guilty too. In the end, I did it at the right time and I know I will do the same again. I won’t do it just to be away for Christmas – it doesn’t stop me feeling guilty though.

F goes home after breakfast. I sit in the kitchen, in front of the computer for a bit. Then I decide to clean the oven. It makes me feel much better. At least, when they take it away on Friday, it won’t be so bad and they won’t think me such a scumbag for having a dirty cooker! Then I sit at the computer a bit as some washing is doing. Then I decide to put up the new coat hanger I bought at the same time as I bought the table and which has been sitting in the hallway …… waiting for me to put it up. I drill the holes to the right length, put in the rawl plugs and put it up. I am very pleased although I know that I will be unable to open the front door fully. I think that, maybe, this will be a problem for the delivery of the cooker but then, I think, I can always take the coat hanger off, if I really need to. I write some posts but don’t finish them. As usual.

F comes over and we have a second round of soup, Shepherd’s Pie and Apple and Blackberry Crumble. then we watch Cinema Paradisio. I have seen it for about 15 years. The last time was when V & I were doing Italian at night school and the teacher lent it to us. I knew I loved it but couldn’t remember it at all. It’s lovely but we have to have a break at 10.30 so I can take the dogs out. We get to bed just before midnight. I will be tired tomorrow, I think. F says that I need to sleep. It’s true. I have two English lessons after work as well tomorrow night. I sleep.

Tuesday.

The clocks going back have made no difference to the fact that is is pitch black when the alarm goes off at 6.40! Or maybe it’s because it’s still bloody raining! OK, so not raining so much, but, obviously, it’s also dark because of the black clouds. Rufus has not made a mess. Well, that’s one good thing. I end up being late for work. I forgot to tell you that I did win the Superenalotto….everntually. I got three numbers on Saturday night. That’s €16.24. This morning, I go to the tobacconist below my house and play again (even if I promised that I would stop when the jackpot was won, which it was on Saturday – exactly when I won €16.24 instead of €177,000,000). Mau is there as usual. He’s promising to ring me about English lessons too. He needs it for the TOEFL test.

I get to work. I must leave home earlier than I do at the moment. I do the lesson log for M-T, my student for tonight. I am annoyed at myself for not having done it last week but it doesn’t really matter.

As I write this, it is still raining. It is supposed to stop in a couple of hours. I will not finish teaching before 8.30 tonight. Maybe, I think, I will take the whole day off on Friday, when the cooker is delivered. Why not?

I am tired.

Is it connected or just coincidence?

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The place’s entrance is on the outside of a curve in the fast main road. The road runs along the top of a large hill but dips down towards the entrance of the place to rise again afterwards. The entrance is large, as is the car park that surrounds the place – too big for the place itself and one wonders how the car park was ever filled.

I go in with friends, as yet undefined. The car has a problem. We need somewhere to stay the night and this looks like a pub/hotel. But, apparently, it’s not. However, there is a hotel, within walking distance (since the car won’t go any more) further down the main road. We go for a quick drink in one of the many bars. This particular bar is to the left (as you look at the pub) and is, almost a separate building which has its own entrance.

A few days or weeks later I am back.

I am with a woman, younger than me. We stop at the pub for something to eat and drink. We get two rooms for the night. We each go to our rooms after dinner but then I remember that this place is not a hotel and has no rooms. I go back to the bar. I ask if it isn’t possible to stay in the rooms we are already in. Apparently not, since this is not a hotel. I go back to my room to pack. I pass the girl’s room which has a window (very large and with a rounded top) onto the corridor. I go in to tell her that we do have to pack and leave after all.

She is sitting in the hallway of her room, her back to the large window, kneeling on the floor. She is making what appears to be circles with her right elbow on the lino in front of the window.

“What are you doing?”, I ask.

“I’m clearing these lines away”

I bend down to see and, sure enough there are lines made as when you drag furniture along the floor – a sort of grey. As I look, her elbow does, indeed, clear these lines.

“OK”, I say, “we have to pack and go to this other place which is a hotel”. I add, “I’ve been before, it’s not far”.

“I’m glad you came”, she said, in a slightly strange, flat voice and yet, filled with some emotion that I could not guess at. “I need you to help me”.

“I need you to help me get away from this thing at my back”.

I look and see that there is a swirling, white, whirlpool of light behind her that appears to be pulling her into the window. I grab hold of her and pull. I pull her away from the light. The light wants her for itself. I pull harder. Even when she is free I can feel the light pulling her back, as if they are attached by rope. Once she is away, we stand and I hold her, cuddling her. My head rests on her shoulder. I look down her back and see that, although the white whirlpool of light is back at the window, she now has white light in the small of her back. I say nothing. I am scared, mainly for her.

____________________________________________________________________________________

I woke, of course, but returned to sleep quickly, as I was very tired.

The next morning I couldn’t get the girl out of my mind. Who was she? At first, I thought it was my sister, even if she looked nothing like her. Then I thought it was Best Mate, even though, again, it looked nothing like her.

I became convinced it was Best Mate.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

I phone. I wait whilst some unknown, unnamed person goes and gets her.

“How are you?”, I ask. She answers that she is ‘fine, thanks’ in a bright and over-cheerful voice. There’s something wrong, I know it. I ask. She explains that she now has someone with her. All the time. I guess what it is and why it is. I admonish her for it but in reality just feel frightened for her.

I tell her of the dream. The dream was two days ago. She says ‘Oh, how interesting’ in the fake, light voice that is required in order to get the ‘minder’ taken away. I can’t bring myself to ask if the dream and her actions were at all connected. But I am left wondering.

____________________________________________________________________________________

He tells me, over dinner what he would do.

“I would go and tell her like it is. Say that it’s her life and she can do what she wants but if she really wants to be better, she has to understand that it’s inside her and only she can stop it. Drugs and other things aren’t required. There are so many people who have real problems whereas hers are all in her head. If she was my friend, I would be hard on her. You should take a week from work and go over and talk to her”.

I want to. But I don’t want to make a mistake. He is right but it is easy for us to say. He thinks she is weak (not that he doesn’t like her) and she needs to be strong and, most of all, like herself. This is true. One must like oneself above everything, otherwise how can you like others or life or anything else?

But I’m not sure I am strong enough to do this. He tells me that if it was his best friend, this is what he would do. But, at least, I’m thinking about it!

Puppies, Eyes, Flats

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It was kind of nice, even if I know it means nothing in itself. It doesn’t really help with the confusing signals.

We met up in the shop. He’d forgotten his mobile so I didn’t bring the shoes back because I wasn’t sure I should. He waited in the shop hoping that I would come (but unable to let me know, obviously). We did the shoe thing.

On our way out, he took some photos of his window. He asked if I understood it. His messages are subtle when he does the window and it had taken me a moment – but I got it before he asked and told him so.

We decided to walk through the park. It was very overcast but much, much warmer – and humid. Still, the park seemed almost deserted and it was nice to walk through with him. He chatted with several people on the phone having missed many calls and messages during the day.

He spoke to M (one of his favourite colleagues). He talked about going for an aperitivo with her. He told her that, maybe, his diet would start tomorrow. I laughed.

We got to my street (which is very long) and he suggested we stop off at Polpetta for a beer.

He had got, through the post, the book he had ordered which had not come in time for my birthday.

“It can be our seven-meseversary present”, smiling as he says it.

It’s a book about Bearded Collies. He has already looked through it.

“Turn the page”, he says, repeating this until I get to the page with the ‘right’ pictures.

“There!”, he shouts, stabbing his finger on the picture. “Che carino”, his voice dropping and softening as one does when talking to a baby.

The picture is of a Beardie puppy.

“We can get one”, he says, excitedly.

“Three are too many”, I reply, knowing it to be true.

“Si but when Rufus goes”, he says. I laugh.

We have two beers each and move seats half way through, into the corner and not next to the loud group. He can see the estate agents window. He starts talking about the prices of flats for sale. We talk about the size of my flat; the size of his; that, if I bought mine he would change it this way and that – enlarge the bathroom (his favourite room) by taking some of the kitchen; enlarge the kitchen by getting rid of the corridor; enlarge the lounge by taking some of the bedroom.

He’s back to looking at the window of the estate agents.

He starts to calculate the repayments on a mortgage.

“We would have to have one more room”, he says. He’s talking about us buying a place together. And he continues to talk about it – how big it would have to be, etc.

It’s sweet but not real. Unless what he has said before is not real. And, here, we go back to a previous post. What exactly is the bullshit part – talking to me or talking to friends. R&Al nearly always ask when we are moving in together (well, actually, R, really). F always responds that we won’t. I go along with this and, actually, right now it would be very difficult. Or, rather, less comfortable for both of us. In fact, I do understand his reaction to R. After all it’s every time we see them. And F is a very private person (God knows what he would think about this blog) and so, I can see that he says it so that, sooner or later, R will stop.

But this all just makes me confused. I wonder if he means it but dismiss that. With this relationship I try hard not to build up any hopes, for fear they are dashed and I am left wondering what happened.

But the whole time we are at the bar – the talk about ‘after Rufus’, the ideal flat for us, etc. – it does give me some hope for the future. But it’s hard enough doing the holiday thing right now. Anything else is just too much for my head to get round.

We shall see.

Oh, yes. Whilst we were talking about the dogs earlier and the possibility of getting another puppy, he said he wanted on with the same colour eyes – sort of pale blue/grey/green. I said that this was not so usual. He said that the eyes were what made him fall in love with Dino.

Then I thought, yes and it was my eyes that made you fall for me. After all, as I’ve always said, my eyes are my best feature and he is a sucker for blue eyes.

Going with the flow

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5

In my head, I am firm and resolute.

F hasn’t been sleeping well and I snore and when it gets too much he has to stop me.  He has tried many things.  If he snores I only have to kiss him for him to stop.  He’s tried that with me but, apparently, that and many other things, don’t work.  He has to wake me.

And I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather.  It’s like ‘flu but I think it’s down to not enough sleep.  From my whole life of going to bed about 10 or 10.30 or, at a push, 11 (since I get up at 5 something), I am now never in bed before 11 and, amongst other side effects, I think it’s making me look older.  Someone likened me to Tommy Lee Jones the other day, so you get what I mean (not that being likened to TLJ is a terrible thing, IMO).

And, so, after Tuesday night I resolved that I would sleep in my own bed.  But when we spoke and he asked if I was coming round I said ‘yes’, of course.  Wednesday, after feeling so grotty most of the day, I told myself that I would definitely sleep in my own bed.  And, I said to myself, whatever he says, say that you want to make sure he sleeps well and you don’t want to wake him or keep him awake.  But, again, as soon as he asked if I was going round the answer that came out was ‘yes’.

Last night we went to see Alice in Wonderland.  After, we are walking back to our area (about 10 minutes).  I didn’t mention anything.  He says that he hopes to sleep better tonight.  I sympathise and say that maybe I should stay at mine tonight.  He says that he can come

No, it’s better that you sleep on your own.

Those are the words that should have come out of my mouth.  Instead, I say “If you’re sure”.

Of course, earlier, he had phoned.  “Be at Arcobaleno [the cinema in Viale Tunisia] at 7.30.  We’re going to see Alice in Wonderland”.  I had, previously decided that, when he phoned or came on line I would tell him that I was going to bed very early tonight.  Of course, when he actually phones, I say “OK, I’ll be there”.

And I don’t regret that.  Nor am I sorry that he spent the night at mine last night and the several times I woke up with him spooning me, all warm and comfortable and nice and reassuring.  OK so I got to bed after 11 but I’m not seeing him tonight (he’s going to the theatre with some friends) and so I think that this will be almost the last night (before he goes away for a whole week) and I need to have him close to me.  It’s my need but I think it’s also his.  I mean, if I was really keeping him awake he wouldn’t come, right?  Well, I’m sure he wouldn’t.  Or, is his need to be with me the same as mine to be with him?  Hmmm.  Maybe.

And the reason we went to Alice In Wonderland was because his colleague got us tickets.  F & I went for a beer first at one of the gay bars (Mono) nearby.  Then met up with his colleague and her husband and son in front of the cinema.  OK, it is a good film but Tim Burton is in danger of getting a bit ‘samey’.  But I need to see it in English as I missed some of the (probably) more subtle bits of the film.  The 3-D effects were good in parts (the smoke, falling leaves, flying things – where they really seemed to be coming out of the screen) but the rest was not really necessary and didn’t really add anything to the film.  I wonder if the cost of making the film in 3-D will outweigh the returns and it will have a short shelf-life?

Anyway, back to the purpose of this post, which is to say that, in spite of my logical, calculating side knowing that I should say no, when I speak to him or am with him, it’s impossible to do anything other than agree to whatever he suggests.  It kinda makes me angry (with myself) but then, again, I think- why not?  After all, we only get the one life and fighting against the tide is pointless when, in reality, you just want to go with the flow :-D

And, it’s not as if he is fighting against it that much either!

La Belle Aurore – great bar and great lunchtime food.

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For the first time, I ate in the La Belle Aurora Café in Via Abamonti on the corner with Via Castel Morrone.

F left the house early and, because I would have had to get up to lock the door, finally, he took one of the keys.  I told him to and he said no and I said that if he didn’t I would have to get up – and so he did!  Hurrah!  And now all I need to do is get another front door key and give that to him!

Anyway, he got up early because IKEA were delivering some units for the new flat.  And then, after, I went over and helped him put them up.  We finished about 1.30 and went for lunch.  The other day we had happened in La Belle Aurora for a very late breakfast and they were serving lunch, which also smelt good.  So today, as the café is, sort of, about halfway between his place and mine, we went there.

F had a risotto with peas and asparagus (which I tasted and it was really good) and I had roast pork with an orange sauce and puree (mashed potato to you folks not in Italy).  We also had a German beer which I forget the name of.  The food, limited to a single primo and single secondo, was excellent.  The whole lot came to less than 15 Euro.  Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure they only do food at lunchtimes but for those of you who visit Milan and go to Il Salvagente (the oldest outlet store in Milan), it’s worth a walk up there should you want a break at lunchtime.  Alternatively, if you’re seeing or staying with me, we should definitely go as it’s less than 10 minutes from my home.

This café/bar has a wonderful atmosphere.  It feels kinda French.  The tables and chairs are old, wooden and have seen better days but that is all part of it’s charm.  The staff were good (as they always are).  I was struck by the crowd of people.  They were a mixture but you had the feel of being on the left bank of the Seine rather than downtown Milan – like they really could be writers, artistes or intellectuals.

I’ve always liked this bar.  And the food did not disappoint. In fact it was all rather good and very tasty.

Whilst we were putting up the units, we finally decided that we would spend the New Year alone, at my place, even if we have had several offers for parties and dinners.  F said that he would ‘really like if it were just the two of us, with the dogs.  And, so would I.  But it was still nice to hear him say it.

Last night, whilst we were at his place having dinner and he was on the phone, between courses, I looked at him and thought how really cool and sexy he was and what an overall nice guy he is and, therefore, how lucky I was to have ended up with him.

And now it’s taken for granted that we spend the nights together (the only discussion being about where), except for certain situations (like he’s away, etc.) and I like that we have slipped easily into this routine and that it feels warm and comfortable and I’m pretty sure he feels the same.

And, every day that I am with him, I am truly grateful for how my life can be so good.

Last night, we made a start

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There was, of course, the trip to Ikea and other ‘out of town’ stores for looking at furniture.  Mainly for his new flat but also a wardrobe for mine.

He had the car from work.  He wanted to be there for about 9.30 a.m.  We stayed at his place.  I woke at about 7.30 first but dozed until it got to about 8 or 8.30.  I would have preferred to sleep in and, in fact, he said at one point, that, perhaps, we should go tomorrow.  I replied that if we didn’t do it today we might miss tomorrow and then, next Saturday, he would still be in Germany and really we should get up.  Even if I didn’t want that.

We got up, had coffee and then went to do the dogs.  Once the dogs had been walked, he drove to the first store.

Now, I should remind you that he is not so tall, slightly built and so very sweet, never really getting angry.  Well, that’s not quite true but almost.  He does have very strong opinions about certain things.  Take the Chinese family living next door to him.  He has threatened to kill them several times now.  Last night, with the children screaming and crying and much shouting going on, he finally snapped and went to get a shoe to bang on the wall.  It had the desired effect.

However, generally he is sweet and without real anger.  Until Saturday morning, however.

I have driven with Italians before.  Italians drive in a particular way.  Cutting each other up; Signalling left when they subsequently go right; Stopping suddenly to ‘park’ (we would say double park); Pulling out from a side road in front of you, etc.  It means you really have to pay attention to the traffic and expect the unexpected.  I do use my horn more often than I would in the UK but that’s because it is really one of the only ways you will survive here.

However, generally, I don’t swear and shout at other drivers.  Why would I? What’s the point?  It’s not like they can hear you and it’s not like it would change their driving habits either.  So I remain quite calm.

Other Italians, when I’m in the car, do tend to be more demonstrative when they are driving, both verbally and physically.  However, Saturday was a little different.  F became a different person from the one I knew.  It didn’t scare me or anything like that and he is quite a good driver but, in the half hour or so it took us to get to the first store, I probably heard all the Italian swearwords (and, in fact, a few more that I didn’t know before) and more than once.

As I pointed out to him, it’s a bloody good thing that our first ‘date’ wasn’t him driving me somewhere otherwise I would have thought him a very aggressive and uncontrollable animal.

As it was, because I know that he is only like this when behind the wheel, I found it somewhat amusing.  What amuses me further is that he is a little like this even when I’m driving!  However, not nearly as bad.

Saturday night we were meeting my friend G and going to the Brasserie Bruxelles on Viale Abruzzi.  A & F2 were coming too.

They have a rather excellent selection of beers.  Once again, F proved to be so good, chatting to A & F2 whilst G & I were able to catch up.  G saying that F didn’t really seem like an Italian – a little more Anglicised – and not only because he drank beer like any good Englishman.  G had phoned me to say he had arrived at the station and I told him what bus to get.  The F phoned to say that he was at the station (the car was being taken by another colleague) and could pick G up.  Of course, neither of them had each other’s number so there were a couple of phone calls with me in the middle.  However, F found G, even if they had never met before and then they got to the bar by car

Then we went for a pizza at Al Basilico, just a block down from the bar.

A & F2 were then going home but G wanted us (F & I) to meet R, the new girl in his life and so we went to this bar/restaurant/club place called Shanghai.

G is going back to the UK.  He hates the mentality of the Italians and the fact that it is so difficult to get things done here – every step halted by a wall that always seems impenetrable.  He hates the fact that the Italians are too busy (well, maybe this is particular to the Milanese) looking the part without the substance (which is also how F feels, certainly about Milan).  He’s been here for 10 years.  I explained that, being here for so long, there’s no way that he can go back and live in the UK.  For all that Italy and the Italians may drive you crazy, there are things that will happen in the UK where he will suddenly think how much he misses Italy (and the Italians).

But back to Shanghai.  I hate and loath these places with passion.  A huge hanger-like place.  Far too full of people; all busy being the best there.  We were going for a drink (but really to meet R).  She was very sweet and very, very pretty.  But neither F nor I were really happy about being in that place.  I mean, it’s a place for people that neither of us really like and exactly one of the reasons why G was going back to the UK ….. but he was there only for R, of course!

If I never get to go back to Shanghai again, it will be too soon.

We go home.  His home.  He wants to spend the night at his place because he has to get ready for his trip and because he wants to have Sunday breakfast at the café.  So, maybe, it’s his ‘thing’ too, after all?

We get up late(ish) and go to have breakfast which, as you know, I love doing.

I go and do the dogs, some washing, etc.  He gets ready for the trip.

I get back later and he does dinner.  I have brought wine and moved the car to nearby his place.

We don’t have dinner immediately.  When I arrive, he is getting ready for a bath, having spent some time doing his ‘beauty’ treatment stuff.  He is in his white underpants.  He is incredibly sexy.  I wonder, at one point, why I think he’s incredibly sexy and why does he turn me on so.  I don’t know.  There are things about him, his body, that, ordinarily, I would not find a turn-on and yet, here he is and every single part of him is so sexy.  Even his feet, which I think are beautiful!  I find myself looking at him and wanting him – all the time.  I sit and chat to him as he has a bath, concentrating on the chat to hide the fact that I just want to look at him.

After dinner he does his Farmville thing.  He sits on the chair with his legs crossed under him, without socks.  I sit next to him and stroke his feet.  I have never had any sort of foot fetish but, with him, I think I could!

I go home later to walk the dogs and come back just after 9.  We go to bed early as we are getting up at 5.30 – I’m taking them to the airport.

Neither of us can sleep.  Not because we aren’t tired.  We talk a little.  I tell him that I get paranoid when I’m not with him (about the lack of things in common) and I worry about that because this will be the longest time we’ve been apart.  I tell him that I know it is stupid and he agrees and says there is so much we can learn from each other.  And I know that is true, still, I think he’s starting to understand me and he is more affectionate than normal.  He tells me of the things going on in his head – the reasons he can’t sleep – work, the new flat, the lack of time to do everything.  I tell him not to worry and that everything will be OK and I will help him if he asks and that, at the very worst, he can stay at mine if everything is not ready.  He knows that and says so and says thanks and means it.  And we talk a little more about his actual work and why this trip is important both for him and the company.  And I have a better understanding of why he is where he is within the company.  He had said over the weekend that he will be introducing me to the big boss as his new boyfriend – and I think that he is proud to do so.  And that makes me happy.

He is having the test soon and is worried about that.  I ask him if he wants me to have the test too.  He doesn’t really say but I know that he does.  I tell him that I will do it.  I know it will make him happy.  He asks when I last had the test and I tell him that it was about 22 years ago.  He is shocked but I explain that there was no need.  I was only with V.  He asks if I wasn’t worried that V was with someone else and I said that no, I wasn’t.  And that was true.  at least it was true for the most of it.  Still, I know it will make him happy and he says it would make a big difference (and you can work that out for yourselves).

The Chinese people next door don’t help.

This morning, he says we’ll just have 5 minutes of cuddling before getting up.  Then another five minutes.  Then we get up.

He says he is so appreciative of me taking him to the airport.  I explain that it means extra time with him.  He doesn’t seem to get it – every second with him is like some sort of bonus.  He has said that I should not come and pick him up but agrees to it as I leave them at the airport.

And so, I shall pick him up on Saturday and be glad to do so.

And, in the space of the weekend, he has become even more demonstrably affectionate, as if he is understanding that I am true.  And, even if there is so much more to discuss, at least, last night, we have made a start.

Now we have Christmas and New Year together

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“…then we can spend the night together!”

The voice was hushed and, yet, excited.  Bless him.  Still there is the ‘not running’ thing.  See, that’s what I don’t quite get.  Again, it’s my mild autism coming into play, I guess.  Run!  Don’t Run!  Run!  Don’t Run!

‘Would you like to come to dinner with me and MM [his colleague with whom he goes to Tango lessons on a Monday night] or pick me up after the lesson?’, he asked earlier.

‘I can do both’, I reply – not telling him that every moment I spend out of his presence is a moment too long.

And so, last night, I got home and went almost straight away to pick him up from work.  The plan was that we would go for something to eat, he would go to Tango lessons with MM and then I would drive down about 10.30, pick him up from the lesson and we would go to his house.  I would have taken the dogs out before I left, of course.

The reality was a little different.  First, I went to his office and I quickly tried on a suit jacket – just to see if the standard size fitted me.  It was absolutely perfect!  I am so lucky like that.  He was pleased.  These are samples, made for the buyers.  They come in one size and, very fortunately, it’s my size.  And I mean, so my size it looked like it was tailored just for me.  He said that I could also use his discount as he’s not buying anything this year.  That’s an extra 50% off!

Then, because it was a little early to meet MM, we went for a beer.  We talked about A.  A was funny on Sunday because he felt he should get changed if we were to meet F, which in the end, we didn’t.  I said that F wouldn’t mind and it was fine.  A seemed nervous about meeting F.  F is also nervous about meeting A (and all my other friends).  I explained to F that everyone will love him because he makes me so happy!  This is true, I know.

We went to the restaurant/pizzeria.  MM was already there, on her first beer.  She drinks beer like an English person.  And smokes as much as I do.  I love her already.  We order and, she wants meat but they only do it for 2.  F asks if I will have that and I am pleased to do so.  The meat was perfect.

MM understands English quite well but doesn’t speak it at all.  The conversation is difficult to follow at times but I get most of it.  MM asks if F is going to Austria for Christmas.  He says that no, we are going to R’s birthday dinner and then we shall spend Christmas together.  He turns to me and says ‘Is that OK?’.  I smile and say ‘Of course, that’s OK’.  In my head I am already dancing on the table!

MM says that perhaps we should go to Vienna for New Year.  F thinks this is a good idea and says we could drive there.  It’s his birthday just after New Year.  It would be nice.  I say that this would be lovely but I have to sort out the dogs.  He understands.

We have another beer each at the restaurant and then go outside for a cigarette.  They talk about Tango.  The problem is that F (and MM) will miss the next two weeks.  MM suggests that, as they are supposed to pay this week, it seems quite mad that they are going anyway – missing so many lessons already.

They decide that they won’t go after all.  MM suggests going for a drink.  She lives not far from me.  We walk up towards Via Eustachi.  We go to Bar Aurore on Via Castelmorone.  This is one of the more famous bars in Milan.  Very old fashioned and, to me, it seems almost French in style.

We order beers.  We talk.  Occasionally we go outside for a cigarette.  I try to talk Italian with MM.  F smiles (almost laughs) as I am talking.  I stop and ask why he is laughing at me.  He explains (mainly to MM) that this is the first time he has heard me speak Italian, which is probably true and it’s not wrong just strange to him.

We have several more beers.  I go to the bathroom.  Afterwards, F explains that, whilst I was in the bathroom, MM had exclaimed ‘Why, F, you never told me he was gorgeous!  If he wasn’t gay I would be interested in him!’  I think this pleases him.  I like MM very much (apart from the beer drinking and smoking) – she is lovely.  I think she likes me too.  I think I’m doing OK!

I have to go and walk the dogs.  He says we should walk the dogs together.  I am happy about that, except that, when I rushed out, I left the cleaner doing the ironing and knew there would be ironing left all over the lounge, the bedroom with sheets not changed; I had no idea that he would come over tonight!

I try to explain that the house will be a mess and why it will be so.

We get home.  He loves the dogs although Dino is, as usual with someone new, over excited.  We take them out.  We get back.  We go to bed.  We talk.  I so love having him with me.  I just so love it.

Again he talks about going slowly.  I wonder at what point that will change.  He explains why (again) and I do understand.  But then there are the Christmas and New Year arrangements.  But these all come from him.  I cannot make suggestions (I feel) as I do not know how fast/slow such arrangement-making is!

This morning, I get up early but let him sleep in whilst I take the dogs out.  I go back and make coffee and then have a shower.  I explain how, next time, I will alter the arrangements and have a shower before coffee so that he can get up later.

Dino is over excited as normal.  He really likes Rufus, who is quiet and calm.  But I think he likes Dino also.  Dino will be calmer when he gets used to him.  I must remember to tell him that.

I drive him home.  He says that he can catch a bus.  I tell him that no way and, anyway, this is on my way to work.  He is ready to get out at Piazza Loretto but I say that I will drive him up to his house.  He says that the traffic will be bad for me.  I say it is far to early and it will be fine and point this out as we drive towards his place.  I am right.

I drop him off.  We kiss, briefly before he gets out of the car and blow kisses to each other as he walks to his building.  He says he will call me.

Now we have Christmas and New Year together.