Thursday, April 07, 2016

My one woman show

So far this week I have had communication problems with a lawyer in Montecatini (not her fault -- she has the flu and I can't understand her fancy lawyer emails), a lawyer in Calabria (va bene, she's just playing hard to get), T's art professor (oh lord, how many years until I master the congiuntivo??), and several other people.

Most of this happened because Emmanuel only has five days left until he is no longer eligible to file an appeal with the court so that he doesn't get deported back to Nigeria. On his behalf, I had embarrassing failures in communication with officials in all walks of life who think I am certifiably insane. But at the end of the stress-filled giorno, the lawyer in southern Italy did answer my voice mail message, and, although she refused to hear my story, she said she knew who Emmanuel was and would speak to the other lawyer. My standards are so low, that I took that to be a victory. 

It's a long story, but to make up for my failed parent-teacher meeting, I decided to buy In Altre Parole for the art professor, but, after five books stores and an internet search, I can say that the rudeness and disses to Jhumpa Lahiri are never ending in this part of the world, even if some of us love her madly. So my bilingual sucking up will have to wait.

And thus, dear readers, I have decided to do a one woman's show of Charlotte's Web in which I will play all of the characters who will espress themselves in Itanglish and pidgin English. Che cosa on dey mind? On dey mind no count, whatever  counts is ciĆ² che si trova sotto le chiappe. And then Templeton the rat does a reggae rendition of Ru Paul's hit Sissy That Walk. Buy your tickets now.

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