Sunday, October 18, 2015


We're Legit

As soon as I got into the car, I knew it was going to be a rough Tuesday night. My stomach did not feel settled. So I was relieved when we got to the paper machine making company and the representative told us that he wanted to cancel our first class that night because there were no students or rooms to teach in. A moment later the boss of our boss, Mirko, came striding in. In less than five minutes, he found out that half of the students were to be found and that not all of the rooms were occupied. Despite my useless objections, he pushed us into the classrooms, all the while grinning maniacally at us. I got through the first hour and then the room started to spin and I turned green. It sounded like I was giving birth on the car ride home. We got home to find that T had the exact same virus, even though she was less dizzy and more stoic about it.

Things picked up later in the week when we got the call that our carte di soggiorno were going to be ready to be picked up on Saturday. I woke up full of dread because there is always a price to pay for Italian bureaucracy. However, this time it was only a small price paid in tiny bits of mortification. First, we embarrassed T by picking her up from school. That wasn't all bad since she got to miss a killer test on Dante's Inferno. We asked the bidella/custodian-secretary for the wrong class because we didn't know that last year Italy renumbered the class system and now instead of going 5, 4, 1, 2, 3 it just goes 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Pazienza, I am still trying to understand who all is running for president in America. The embarrassment was compounded when I made T turn purple by speaking Italian where people T's age could hear me. Finally, we got to the questura/police station where my brain obeyed T's wish for me to speak only in English, I stopped being able to understand anything the agent asked for. The people on the line behind us giggled and groaned while I gave the wrong identity cards at the window, put the wrong finger in the fingerprint machine and dropped stuff. The important thing is that we got it. In a few more years, we should be able to become citizens.

I only somewhat regretted wearing these rings to pick up the documents. I wanted to be rebellious, but, then again, I didn't know we had to take more fingerprints:

What? No one reads English, really. It was interesting shaking hands with T's Latin professor . . .

Speaking of rings, my wedding ring came in the mail so now F and I feel very proud of our little symbolic renaissance:




In other news, we found out that T's friend Giorgia's apartment is owned by a Count. This is good because he has many beautiful apartments and he is loaded and he likes to rent to foreigners. The bad news was that the perfectly located, gigantic, affordable, top floor apartment with a terrace and a parking spot, right above theirs is being shown to another family before us. If they want it - and why wouldn't they? - we won't even get in to see it. However, even if we don't get the magical unicorn apartment that is the stuff legends are made of, I hope to score this contact and eventually find the home of our dreams. I may be down and menopausal, but I'm not out. There is still hope.

This is a good contact to have in Lucca:







Then T and I celebrated with a sunset walk on the walls. The photo below makes me laugh because of all of the tension in my hand. She was saying to me, Hurry up, it's crowded up here. Let's hide behind this tree and get it over with. Hence, my little pterodactyl claw.



Wrrawrrr.





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