Wednesday, September 04, 2013

We misplaced the ipod camera (hee-hee embarrassed laughter)

Photoless at the moment. But I'll catch you up on the dirt. T's party for Caoimhe's family turned out beautifully in the end, even though it was minus the rest of her family. Long, confusing story omitted for friendship sustaining motives. The girls had a great time and maybe even enjoyed eating all the food with their hands since, despite all my nagging, nobody brought any plastic forks to the park that day.

We tried to drop off the letter explaining T's health situation with her new principal at the high school, but she is so new that no one knows her or how to make appointments with her so in the end we left the letter with one of the bidella/secretaries that seemed like she would eventually get it into the right hands. P.S. No one knows which class they are going to be in as sections for the in-coming class will obviously be decided at the last moment. Should I be worrked that the high school is named after Machiavelli?

I went back to work on Sunday; and all I can say is thank heavens for my sweet friends of sex & the city, part 2. Without Alessandra, Monica and Giada and Monica's daughter Miriana and her friend Eva I would have basically have been alone the last three days at the gym. It isn't completely my fault as the fancy gym has not managed to print out the class schedules yet and no one is looking at my facebook page and, therefore, don't even know that I'm back. The truth is that it would have been better if I had been alone on Monday when I had a bunch of super beginners some of whom are quite old and others who have been recently in car accidents, came in to be abused by me for a long afternoon hour. I got them through the decidedly difficult exercises of the week, but not in a way that looked nice to observers outside of the big glass windows and doors of the sala. Wouldn't you know it, Ricky, of all people, walked in at the worst moment and started laughing at us. I worried about Giacomo finding out so I just confessed that it wasn't my best day and then made a comeback reducing the pace by half for the morning students and then doubling it for the evening crowd who tend to be more the thrill seeking type.

Monday night I was so down and the dumps that I forgot about my dinner date with a new friend of mine. Tear stained with mascara and in my pajamas I got a call from an unknown number from someone speaking English in a soft voice saying, "And our pizza night???" We were 40 minutes of shame late. So I pulled on the clothes from the floor and F grabbed two bottles of wine and it ended up to be a really nice time. But this is Italy, so we were only really 20 minutes off. I justify.

Apart from new friend, I am also grateful that I asked the nice receptionist, Jessica, who is also the cousin of one of my friends at the hair salon -- Lucca makes the Disney song It's a small world seem like a cunning, antropological discovery -- what in the world we are going to do on Saturday. Saturday is the dreaded team building day at the fancy gym. I was imagining trust fall exercises, past life regression therapy, maybe eight hours of volley ball or worse - relay races. Can you imagine me tied to Ricky's leg while he dragged me across a lawn somewhere? In other words, I imagined what an American agency would do at a team building retreat. It turns out it is more like a 12 hour business meeting. We are told to take our pads and pens. Again, with the pads and pens.The "News" news letter of the fancy gym this week states, "Furthermore let us underine to everyone the importance of this meeting and remember, as in every official meeting to bring one's own note pad and pens." (Insert wretching noise here.)

My second favorite line of the newsletter reads: As anounced in the technical sector meeting, from today on we will begin the ten weeks of de-briefing (spelled "di breafing") in which every instructor will share with Giacomo or Chiara their own "operato" of the past days and their objectives (spelled "obtv") for the week underway." Operato, according to my Italian dictionary means either 1. actions, 2. patient who has undergone an operation, or 3. diapered. Take your pick, I guess.

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