Tuesday, April 29, 2014

On Monday I went to the dentist. F couldn't drive me because he had to work. He said that it wouldn't be a problem because it was just a matter of following one road out of town, crossing a bridge, turning right and turning left, while always sticking to this one road. Even I can do that. In the pouring rain. He said it would take about 25 minutes. I thought I was pretty prepared. I wore my gortex walking boots. I was even prepared for the fact that they tend to tear the skin off the back of my heels. I put on bandaids and foot wax to make my feet safe from blisters. Oh you hear me alright. I said foot wax. I was prepared. I had my little, lightweight, magic, Italian running jacket, and everything I needed down to chapstick, my health card, my cell phone and keys in my pockets so I could keep my hands free to hold my transparent, telephone booth type, extra special wind protection umbrella. I also left the house fifteen minutes ahead of when F told me to because he always forgets that his legs are three times longer than mine. 
New drug against depression, stress & anxiety: Idon'tgiveadamn 500 mg
Nevertheless, after I had been walking for an hour and fifteen minutes and I realized that there were no sidewalks and that the buses and giant trucks could not see me coming towards them as they cruised past me Italian style on the bridge, I decided to call F at work. I had not taken any wrong turns, he had just maybe perhaps minimized the effort it would take to get there. I screamed MA SEI MATTO??? at him and hung up. By the time I got to the dentist's office I was sweating profusely with two giant sweat circles under my arms and with my hair looking like a bird's nest. The bandaids had crumpled below my feet and left lovely blisters where they were supposed to defend me. Despite the weather, I was dressed so poorly according to Lucca standards that the only response I could elicit besides pity would be disgust. This didn't keep several cars piled full of men on their lunch break from honking at me and having a laugh at my expense as I huffed past their cars. Forgetting that I'm not in Brooklyn anymore, I stormed into the dentist's office saying in Itanglish that they no longer had to worry about making appointments for my husband in this office. I must have been speaking louder than they were used to because about six white coated individuals stepped into the reception area just in time to hear me explain, "because that guy is not going to have any teeth left after making me arrive here on foot!"
Shilpa, I stole this from your FB. So sue me :)
 Luckily my afternoon English student that day had asked for a later time. He came in with an assignment to download an image of a historical English building onto his chiavetta/computer key and then to write a few paragraphs describing it. It turns out the kid had no idea what plagarism is and was shocked to find out that his fool proof method for getting his homework done was against the rules. T assures me that everyone (except her!) gets their answers from forums where kids put up their assigments for others to copy and that no teacher has every brought up the issue since she has started school here. Fabulous. I helped him to come up with a new way to say the same thing and then made him translate all the words back into Italian and then into English a second time in the hopes that he would learn a few things. Then I made him read it out loud several times for pronunciation purposes. Hold up lady, he said, the teacher is used to giving me sevens or eights, but this is some nine worthy work that we are doing here. I froze. So you're worried about getting too good a grade? Listen kid, I said, tell her you have an awesome English teacher who made you work hard on this and that you deserve a nine.

Anyway, I got so nervous with his time constraints and trying to get the assignment done with out plagarizing that I made some funny errors myself. I had to spell out all the words for him as he wrote them down. I gave up spelling them in English because he was so confused by that. Note to self: go over the alphabet with middle school guy. Anyway, I started combining the sounds which all run into each other ee for i, eye for i, eh for e, ee for e, and when we got to the letter p, I pronounced it POO. Make ca ca or poo poo jokes all over the world to middle school boys and they will lose their concentration for the next 15 minutes while snickering at you. My mistake. Sigh.

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