Tag Archives: Outside Italy

What is wrong with some people? Will they never be happy?

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Let’s be honest people are strange.

Take V, for instance. When we first got together, he had a thing about his birthday. We used to go to his parents. He would arrive, expecting presents by the barrow-load. One time, we arrived about 11 a.m. No one was home. He got so angry. Why weren’t they there to celebrate his birthday? How dare they just go out! We left and went home, I think – although maybe we didn’t. All I remember is the anger. I tried to explain that as he hadn’t told them when he was coming, how were they to know to be there at that time. But there was really no placating him.

When we had the computer business, there was this woman, A, who worked closely with him. She was married to L. Every year, it didn’t matter what L tried to do, birthdays, Christmases and anniversaries were fraught with danger. For him it must have felt like going over the top at the Western Front!

Every time was the same. He would try and surprise her with something and every time he would be rebuffed as it wasn’t what she wanted or was too cheap or something. And, amazingly (because I would have given up after a couple of years), he went to some great lengths to try to please her.

But, whatever he did it simply wasn’t good enough. V & I (for he had got over his thing by then) would gasp at the whole thing.

And now I have S, my colleague. Actually, in many ways, she reminds me of A. The ‘show’ is the thing not the substance.

And, so, tomorrow, is her birthday. It’s quite an important one and it’s quite obvious that this is a milestone she doesn’t want to be at. For a few weeks there have been odd murmurings from her about how it’s going to be terrible. Her husband, she thought, was trying to pull off a surprise party. She was complaining about the people he would probably invite and she spoke to him several times about who she didn’t want at the party.

Eventually, last week, it was agreed that they would go out for a meal – just the two of them. But she’s not happy with that either. I think that, secretly, she wanted a surprise party but was preparing herself to complain about was there and who wasn’t there.

And the present has been an issue too, apparently with him suggesting that she goes choose some shoes – which is obviously not good enough since shoes do not last forever – or even a couple of seasons!

ut, then, she tells me this morning that her birthday is always like this and her husband is always wanting to do something and it’s always a disaster. Last year was some restaurant with some friends but it was a terrible restaurant and the food was not good, etc.

And her husband always wants to do something on her birthday because his is in the first week of August – and they are away at the seaside then, in France, where they have a house. And so, he can’t celebrate his birthday in the way he would like and tries to muscle in on hers. It’s been like this for over 20 years, she says.

Now he has some people coming round on Thursday night. Apparently she told him that she wasn’t cooking and he said that it was not necessary because they would have cake. She asked him who was invited and, apparently it is some friends of his and some people from the block of flats. So she asked if a certain person was coming and he said no and she said that they were the only people that she really got on with and if he was going to invite people from the block then she would invite them and he didn’t think this was a good idea and she said that she is having nothing to do with it and she was going to make it quite plain that this is NOT a birthday party and certainly NOT a birthday party for HER.

And there are times when she just needs a good slap to get her to come to her senses.

After all, what’s wrong with sharing the birthday with him? They will be in France when it’s his and this, being Italy, probably means he has always missed out on birthdays with friends because it’s always in the holidays – the same way as F did/does.

And I know that she will never be happy. Everything will always be wrong – even if this year is worse because of the impending five-zero.

But, like I used to feel sorry for L, I feel sorry for him. In a way. To be honest, this should have been knocked on the head from the start. This kind of crap you don’t need when you’re trying to do your best for someone.

It just annoys me!

Life, the play starring Me (and You, of course)

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Well, I guess it had to happen sooner or later.

And now what?

We live in a huge social network experiment. We (OK, maybe not YOU, my lovely reader but certainly me), even knowing the fact, continue to be part of this experiment. It’s an experiment simply because we really don’t know the implications of it all.

Facebook. A wonderful tool for keeping in touch with friends who live some distance from you. I chat (either on Facebook or Skype) with people that, normally, I would not stay in touch with. Take A, just the other day. I saw she was online in FB and started chatting with her. It was lovely to reconnect as we haven’t ‘spoken’ for quite some time. I made her laugh (apparently) which is, it seems, just what she needed right at that moment.

I have, of course, checked out my sister on the site. I get a feel for what she is doing; where she is; who she is with. It satisfies my curiosity. She, of course, has the connection with my brothers and my nephews and niece. It’s enough for me and just about as close as I want to get.

As far as I know, she is not in touch with any other friends of mine. Certainly, none of them are friends on FB. And my name is, thank goodness, so common that there are thousands of me. I have no picture on my profile that is of me but, rather, my dogs. Even if you came across me by accident you couldn’t know, for certain, that I am who I am.

But, I guess, some people are determined.

And now I have a friend request from a very close friend of hers. I know they are still friends (via FB) and they still keep in touch in a way that only women seem to do. Or, maybe, that’s everyone except me seems to do.

I wonder how she found me? I wonder if she trawled through the site until she saw a likely me? I wonder how many other people she contacted with friend requests? Or was she just lucky?

And, now, what to do?

I am a great believer in ‘everything is for a reason’. People come into and go out of your life at different times to serve or having served a purpose or for you to serve or having served a purpose. Nothing is accidental – improbable, maybe, accidental, no. Each contact brings more out of us or teaches us things about others and ourselves. We play a role, a lead role, in this play called life. Everyone we come into contact is also a lead role but maybe in a different version of the play called life.

But, I cannot deny, I am apprehensive. This could open up a lot of old wounds. Is the right thing to do to accept the friend request or ignore it? Is there a sinister reason for it? Or, is it just like it says on the tin – a friend request? After all, we were once friends (even if that was through my sister).

The problem with this one, of course, is that it then opens the door to the rest of them. Starting, of course, with my sister.

Then, again, it could be an interesting door to open. After all, my name is not Alice and there is no Wonderland the other side but perhaps there’s something, something interesting, perhaps? Something wonderful? Unlikely. Something sinister? Maybe. Certainly something or, of course, perhaps, nothing!

The only question in my head is – once open, can I close the door if I choose, or will someone put there foot there? Ah, well, there’s only one way to find out!

Missing me; Tuscany, maybe?; Weather in Italy – when to have a holiday; In hot water; This blog

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“Looking forward to seeing you and the babies”

It hasn’t been that long.

“We are still in the restaurant, eating outside. I imagine our holidays – with the babies”

I take them out of order and, probably out of context. It’s my blog and I can do what I want.

In fact, it is only since 5.45 this morning when I got up and left him to wake up more slowly. But he was getting up at 6 anyway. He was going to the store near Venice.

It is hot and sunny there and cooler and more rainy here. But the rain will pass. And, for our holidays, I hope it is not like other years and remains hot and sunny, even if it is the third week in August – not the best week for being on holiday here, in my experience.

In fact, if you wanted my advice, holidays in the Northern part of Italy should be taken in July for the hottest, sunniest weather, with June and September cooler (but still hot) but more risky for rainy days. August, around the 15th, is almost guaranteed rain!

But I did notice that, in the message I put at the start, I was mentioned first. I also realised that he is, really, really looking forward to going away with the dogs (and me).

He has an idea for Tuscany (this is NOT the holiday). The problem is the dogs (or the babies, as you will). His parents place means that we sleep in two very small rooms and he is concerned because they go to bed early (and are up early – which all sounds good to me) but (and I more than agree with him) it’s not so easy with the dogs. The flat, which he shares with his brother, is currently being used by some cousin or something.

I don’t know how many times I have to say that I was only joking (even if the reality was that I was only half-joking). His plan is that he goes down on the Friday and I follow Saturday afternoon. Then I stay Saturday night and I (or, maybe we) come back on Sunday.

“I want you to come to C”, he says. And I really think he does. And I don’t want to take the dogs to his parents. at least, not until they know me better or something. Gentle introductions are required here, I think. Even if they will never know who I really am and are unlikely to with the language barrier.

However, he is thinking of doing this in the next couple of weeks. Let’s see. With him, I can’t get too excited lest it doesn’t happen. His mind is still unfathomable to me. I know he thinks about things a lot but what actually goes on in his head is just impossible and I can’t follow his logic (if there is any) (and that’s after my advice to Lola earlier this afternoon hahahaha).

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We expect things to work and we certainly take things for granted. Yesterday, in my head, I was looking forward to the shower I was going to have.

Except after nearly three hours, the three men went away, leaving me with a brand, spanking, new boiler …………. which didn’t work!

Another guy came today to fix it. It took him a while but he has done it. It was a blockage!!  As I said to someone at work, today.  I had one guy to carry things, one guy to fit the boiler and one guy to watch them do it.  Now, I could add – and one guy to make it actually work!

So I went to lie down for a bit and then I heard the sound of someone coming in. It was my cleaner guy. Since he had to leave early yesterday (no water) he was going to add hours next Wednesday. Instead, he chose to come and do the ironing today.

So, tonight I have a long, hot shower AND I have all my shirts ironed.

Cool, if you see what I mean.

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Today, I was recounting the story of how F & I met. The girl, A, thought it was a lovely story. Of course, my blog allows me to recount the circumstances in more detail than I would ever remember and for which I am grateful. She also wanted to know how it was to be gay; when did I know?; what about girls?, etc. I explained. I have nothing to hide. She was a bit shocked but then, in this country, there is an unawareness about it all that still surprises me. I wondered if this is what it is like in most of the world. I am truly grateful that I was born and brought up in the UK.

But back to the blog. I’m not sure that I always say all of the really important things but I think I was, mostly, faithful with my recounting the story, since it was written at the time. It makes me wonder, if, in a few years time, some of the essence of the whole thing will be gone from the blog. It’s not really a diary, is it? It’s more a collection of random thoughts and random happenings in my life. Some things are deliberately missed (for various reasons); some things omitted by accident.

Outside my family.

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I phone Mum to wish her happy birthday.

It’s not my Mum, obviously, and I feel slightly strange calling her Mum. I always felt like this. But I know it will please her (both to call her Mum and to phone her to wish her happy birthday). I send my love to Dad and ask how he is. We continue for a short while on the phone. I’ve never really had long conversations with them. Not least because I couldn’t always understand what they said so well.

I don’t want to get into deep conversation with her. I know that she will start crying and I’m not good with that. She’s not crying ‘cos we’ve split but just because Dad is so ill. She holds off crying but, towards the end of the conversation I can hear it in her voice. I end the call. I can’t make things better for her or Dad (again, obviously not my real Dad).

I promise to try and get over to see them this year. She thanks me for calling and I believe she was really happy that I called even if the circumstances are difficult.

But I don’t know what V has said about us or, rather, about the ‘no longer us’. I know that he told C, his sister, that I am with F now. When I spoke to C about it she seemed really happy for me. But, then she would. That’s the way she is and why I love her still, even if she is not really my sister. It was over 20 years I was part of that family. Longer than I was with my blood family and so they remain ‘my family’ still, I guess. I have no other family to replace them, not that I’m looking for one to replace them.

There will be difficult situations ahead, that much I know. What with Dad being ill. Even if they are ‘my family’, I always feel a little bit of an outsider – and not just because of the colour of our skin. But I worry about them and think about them often.

Two sides

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It’s raining – that sort of misty, damp rain. Not real rain at all. But you would get wet all the same. A half-hour plane ride from a place we sat out in the garden in the warm sun.

I am here, sheltering from the rain because I had to have a cigarette and in this god-forsaken country there is no smoking in the airport. A little like the UK or, for that matter, Italy.

I decide to have another one. It will be another 3 hours before I’m back in Italy and able to smoke.

But that’s not the point of this post.

The point of this post is the way people are. Why is it that in one situation they say one thing and in another they say almost the opposite. Luckily, as they say in Italy, I know my chickens.

Let’s be honest. The guy I am with is fantastic in front of customers. He has the ‘gift of the gab’. He can tell amusing anecdotes; he keeps the customer entertained; he can explain a technical thing in a way that even I can understand but, above all, he says the things that the customer wants to hear and the truth – but only when actually in front of them!

At work, when something is questioned or proposed he blusters and pouts and screams that it will never be possible. In front of the customer everything is fine – there is always a solution. Quite often the two sides of him differ so much that something that, internally, was impossible or would cause problem x becomes easy or will certainly not cause problem x.

And so, as a result of an internal meeting, I wrote a letter that said we could do something but that these would be the problems and we thought it wouldn’t work. As I suspected (which is why I took him with me and is one of the reasons I’m good at my job) all the problems became ‘not problems’ and the wouldn’t work things suddenly would be fine.

However, it can be a little frustrating as I can’t have the customer here, in front of him all the time.

Ah, well, such is life.

And I got home last night about 11.30 p.m. and went to bed about midnight. And then, even though I was so very tired could not sleep until about 2 a.m. The dogs kindly woke me about 6 a.m. and now I just want sleeeeeeeeeeeep!

I have a shower

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There is little time. Even for this post. Everything is catching up on me and, soon, things will start to fall off the table. It’s my normal state.

However, it doesn’t help that I am having to go away to a customer and F is already away in Spain this week. OK, so it’s only one night – but two, very long days. And there’s the dogs (and no F to look after them). Even he asked why it seemed that, every time he was in Spain, I had to go somewhere for work too! And he’d be right.

In addition, I have no hot water (still) and have had none since about last Wednesday night – so almost a week. Luckily F only lives five minutes away but, still ………..

And so, with everything to do last night (as I am going away today), the last thing I actually needed was to be traipsing over to F’s house to take a shower. And, just in case you’re wondering, yes, I do have a key and no, it’s not mine – it’s his and I am only borrowing it whilst he’s away. I come back about midnight on Wednesday and he comes back in the early evening of Friday.

And I have to explain to him that, sometimes, I just can’t not touch him and, so, sometimes I do things to make it difficult for me which he could misinterpret.

Anyway, last night, I combined the going to his place with taking the dogs out, so it wasn’t too bad. Dino got very excited when he knew where we were going but after a quick search of the flat realised that F wasn’t there after all!

He lay down at the bathroom door. I had a shower.

The Real Power

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I don’t think people really understand at all. Life is full of compromises.

You can only live with the person you live with (or, not exactly live with, in my case) by means of compromise. Friendships are full of compromise. Families are full of compromises. Working is full of compromises. Politics is full of compromises.

And so, the Tories and the LibDems have made an agreement which, given the fact that they differ in many areas, is full of compromises – compromises by both of them. Of course, it won’t make Tory supporters happy and it won’t make LibDem supporters happy. Labour supporters will also be unhappy. Everyone will be unhappy.

However, given that even the change proposed (but only after a referendum) to the voting system won’t give true PR, there will still be, more or less, a first-past-the-post system and that will favour the two big parties.

As a result of everyone being unhappy, it seems likely that the LibDems will be hammered at the next election, which is a shame. And, so, Britain will remain a two-party nation. Far right and slightly right (unless Labour go back to their old ways). The banks will remain ever-powerful, the system will stagger onwards, creaking and groaning and, occasionally, splitting at the seams until, eventually, there is nothing else but for it to completely break down.

Not that a LibDem government would have really made a huge change since a huge change is too frightening to contemplate.

And, don’t for a moment think that there’ll be any rush to roll back many of the things that Labour put in place. Don’t think that you’ll be getting back your freedoms. The new government will be ‘taking it’s time’ and will, no doubt, leave most things in place – especially those things that give it more control over the population. After all, that’s the real power.

PR – The only way to go.

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For what it’s worth, the LibDems would be mad to go with either the Conservatives or Labour. Neither of them would do any favours for the LibDems – and if they think that either of them would permit any form of proportional representation – and, thereby, lose the chances they have for staying in power, they are really stupid.

Sooner or later, the UK will wake up to the fact that the current system disenfranchises so many voters and it will change. But not yet.

What the LibDems should do is try to educate the voters so that they get enough votes which are translated into real seats to be able to push through PR. And hope that the voters aren’t scared by the other two parties, like they usually are. Only then will the change happen.

There. My opinion. For what it’s worth.

I cook passata

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Well, at least I didn’t let the tomatoes go to waste – like I did last time.

I thought it would be nice. And I cooked it from scratch rather than buying it in a bottle. It was all supposed to go like this ……. I cook the passata (the tomato sauce that goes with bolognese sauce for those of you from the UK (‘cos there isn’t actually a thing called Spaghetti Bolognese here)); I was going to buy some sausages to go with it; I would have cooked and served tagliatelle with some of the sauce and then served the sausages with more sauce and a salad – a nice Sunday lunch/dinner.

Ah well. He informs me that, after a week of eating meat and drinking lots of beer in Germany, he’s on a diet! And the diet – bananas and milk!!!! WTF????

He doesn’t even like milk!

But I cook it anyway. I told him when we were out walking the dogs. He said we could have it tomorrow. Bless him.

Playing with numbers

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How does just over a third turn into just less than half?

Or, how can just under a quarter turn into around a twelfth?

That’s exactly why I haven’t voted for years. What is the point? As the number of people and how they vote doesn’t actually translate into a seat, it makes it some sort of mockery of democracy.

Based on the percentages for each party in the British General Election, the seats should break down as follows –
Conservatives – 234 seats
Labour – 188 seats
Lib Dems – 149 seats
Others – 78 seats

But it doesn’t do anything like that, so it makes it all seem quite crazy.

Still, there’ll be another election coming along soon, now that no party has overall control!