Thursday, November 28, 2013

Baby steps
We did meet with T's Italian/Greek professor and she was much nicer than expected. She didn't correct me once! (Hee Hee.) Anyway, it was reassuring that she is a real person. Unlike my ex-supervisor. She had a thousand times the empathy of Giacomo on the Giacamo Zero Empathy meter. T still says that she is scary and hard to please, but that is normal. The scariest part is making conversation with the other parents outside the door while you wait. Something about chatting under pressure makes my consonants stick together. I ended up sounding like a New Yorker speaking Italian while eating an entire pack of saltines. Unlike the middle school, the Classico highschool is very civilized: People stick to the order in which they signed up and don't try to cut you in line or trip you as you go in. The Science professor is out sick for the month and the Latin professor cancelled on us so you will need to hang in there for news from the remaining five professors with whom we were not clever enough to get appointments.

To go along with all of my unexpected decreases in work as people cancel lessons all the time, I have an unexpected increase in work because Pierluigi is having me translate all of his furniture making manuals into English. He numbered his steps in the most adorable way: "For the first, for the second, for the third." He had used Google Translator to make the documents. They read like Ikea instructions if you are putting together shelves while simultaneously doing bong hits and standing on your head. He has a really hard job to do because he has to be the point person for three different manufacturers, none of which have a written guide to how they actually managed to put the Italian furniture together. Luckily he has a lot of experience and is a smart guy who can think quickly on his feet. The cabinets are heavy and he has to make sure none of the parts can fall on anyone and that they are all secured. His crew will be made of around five people, but he doesn't know if they will be Chinese, American or Arabian or all of the above. If he does well this time, he will have plenty of work in the future because he will be supervising the design elements for a chain of stores that will keep expanding. I am determined to get him to pronounce the words "think, thing, and furniture" correctly and to get him to be able to give commands authoritatively. I can't send him out there as the guy who says I fink the fing I have to explain you is how to put together the fornitore. Not on my watch.



"But Dad, I want the meatballs." "Um . .yes, here it is, one moment . . .1. Cut up the meat. 2. Mix the elements . ."

In other news, in my impatience not to wear foundation make up anymore, I used too much of the exfoliating cream that the German Barbie doctor gave me and burnt off some random layers of skin on my face. Now, not only do I have to wear make-up, but it is kind of hanging off of my face in a weird, lopsided, accident victim kind of way. Lovely. When I am not working I am watching old Italian television programs on the internet and practicing my pronunciation. I watched I Cesaroni, Amici, and whatever else they put up on mediaset.it. Darn those stuck together double consonants. I will get you!

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