The Unexpected Haircut...

Clari likes to play Hairdressers a lot, and we've played it many times with various brushes, flowers and hairclips and she once informed me that she wants to be a hairdresser when she grows up (although I've got a feeling Giorgio wouldn't be too happy with that decision). However when we play it mainly revolves around her insisting on being the customer so I brush her hair. When we swap, my turn doesn't usually last very long, and then she's back on the little blue plastic chair telling me that her hair needs to be 'as soft as a pillow'.

We were playing this game when Matt was round, only it was just the two of us as he was in my room doing some work. It came to be her turn again and I switched to sit in the little chair. She started off brushing my hair and twiddling with it and whatnot. Then she told me to close my eyes and cover them with my hands. I did so, but as you've seen before, it's always a dangerous thing to do. I peeked through my fingers and saw her leaning over to her little table. She turned and saw me peeking.

"Close your eyes!" she cried. I closed them again.

I was thinking.. what was at her little desk that she was going to use? She had some headbands over there and some clips maybe. I imagined her using some felt tips to give me some crazy rainbow highlights...

She came back behind me and fiddled with my hair for a little bit. Then it went very quiet and (still with my eyes covered), I heard the quiet sound of scissors cutting through hair. A feeling of horror swept over me and I leapt up and turned around to face a surprised Clari.

"HOW DARE YOU!?" I snatched the piece of hair from her hand and she started to cry. But I didn't care, this time was different. She was not allowed to do things like that.

I went downstairs to find Giorgio. I wanted her to get a proper telling off, something I've not yet seen happen. She doesn't get punished often (to be fair, I've not seen her properly punished at all yet). He came upstairs and we found Clari hiding in her bed. At first he misheard me and he thought I had said Clari had cut some of her own hair. Unfortunately this wasn't the case.

Three quarters of an hour later, we left her room. She wouldn't apologise to me so Giorgio said she couldn't continue playing until she'd come up to me and said a proper apology. She did, eventually, about another half an hour later.

Thank god I have long hair and she'd only cut a bit from the back. I dread to think how it could have ended.

Milano

I realise I haven't posted anything for a while.. literally not since Matt left and I probably should write at least a little something about when he was here! Hehe.

So yeah, well we went to Milan a couple of times, and somehow the jammy dodger brought a whole week of sunshine with him when he came. Literally, we had rain the week before he came and then the sun disappeared as soon as he left, but it was between 20 and 25 degrees whilst he was here. Not too shabby I guess!

In a way it was perfect, the weather was good and hot and even though Dominga had to got to Rome and then Milan to work for most of the week, Giorgio was pretty decent about how much I had to work.

The first time we went to Milan was the Sunday - it was a whole free day for me and the weather was boiling. We caught the train from Stradella to Voghera, then Voghera up to Milano Centrale (which was a nightmare, but no one came to check our tickets and we were joined by an Italian-speaking woman from Moldova who was going the same way as us and insisting on making conversation with me, in Italian, nearly the whole way).

We caught the metro to the Duomo.

Pretty big..

Being a Sunday, Milan was packed. There were so many people; tourists, businessmen, bloody persistant street sellers. We milled around, with a basic plan of finding some lunch (pizzeria, of course, getting a gelato and seeing a few sights. The general concensus was, if in doubt, we can just chill and eat. Eating is a wonderful way of passing the time, especially when you're in Italy and they sell sweets, massive pizzas and massive gelati....

We went into the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II which is possibly the most expensive collection of shops I've ever seen, bar the Tretyakov Drive in Moscow (I mean, they had red carpets laid over the snow from the carpark to the shop entrances so the customers didn't get their feet wet. Come on now).



(For some reason there were some tourists jumping on the floor where that woman is taking a picture so conveniently in the photo)


We wandered the streets, scouting out the prices of the pizzas on the street-side restaurant cafes. It's crazy how much more you'll pay for a pizza if you want to buy one in Milan compared to in Stradella. I mean, in Stradella the pizzeria charges something like €4-6 for a margherita, whilst in Milan they were pushing on the €8-10 mark. But you know, when in Rome and all that...



Falling victim to an awkward eating photo..


The Castello Sforzesco was at the end of a long flag-lined street, with a huge fountain in front of the entrance. It was full of marching bands who played throughout the day, marching up and down in different coloured uniforms.



Behind the castle was a ginormous grassy park; Parco Sempione, which was filled with people. We managed to find an empty patch of grass and chilled in the sun.

Cheeky selfie (on Mumma Way's request)

San Siro stadium was too far out for us to visit in the time we had, as it required a fair few metro stops and then a bit of a walk. (Bearing in mind we had no map until a few hours in when I found a tourist information centre and asked - in rather poor Italian I have to admit - where I could find one).

We caught the trains back at the end of the day, to be greeted with a severeal course meal when we got home as the Casanova's had friends round for dinner.

Wicked Word of the Week! - Fare Fichi Fichi

fare fichi fichi
/fareh fiki fiki/

Verb phrase (slang)  - English - 'to have sex'

*There are many ways to say 'to have sex' in Italian (like in English, I suppose) but fare fichi fichi is the one I've heard and it sounded the funniest. Not too sure why it's funny, maybe because the literal translation is like, to do figs figs (fichi is plural of fico which is a fig.. but then fica is a fanny.. haha so it could mean something else).

I've also seen it written like fiki fiki but I think fichi might be more correct.

So yeah, if someone asks you if you want to fare fichi fichi, they're not asking you if you want to grow some figs....

Excited!

Eeeeeee I'm well excited! Heheh.
You know why?

My main man is coming tomorroooooowwww. Yeah budddyyyy!

For a whole week. Yesss.

It's like, exactly 36 hours away... maybe even less... Yayayay!

Italian Boys

Italian boys are by far a different breed. They're polite, yet bloody hell are they persistent. Oh ma gawwwhddd.

I was at Light Bar on saturday night, just chillin' with Mirko, his girlfriend and some Italian girls (literally, it was freeezing) and kind of awkwardly as my Italian isn't exactly fantastic and they're English is even worse. There was a group of Italian men by the bar and suddenly the bartender came over to me and Silvia and said to me,

"The boys by the bar, there, are talking. They think you are very beautiful."
"Oh, gee, thanks."

Kind of awkward. They're like thirty...

"You interested in them?" she said. I struggled not to make a disgusted face and shook my head.
"No, noooooo."
"Sono schifo..." Silvia said, in my defense. I agreed.

Eurgh the hauntings of creepy Roman italian men were creeping back up on me.

At the end of the night - which was pretty much a disaster; Discoteca Life was practically empty, there was barely anyone I knew (a handful of people I'd met the first time, but not many). Mirko's girlfriend had brought a friend with her who appeared not to know anyone from the rest of the group, and then got incredibly drunk and quickly became a limp spewing puppet who we had to look after.

Mirko explained to me that I was going to get a lift home with his friend Elvis (yes, seriously, this kid's name is Elvis), because he lives in Montu' (other people live in Montu'?!). Fair play, it is pretty far out from Broni.

While I was back outside the doors of Life with Martina and her friend, we somehow attracted a fog of italian boys around us. It was ridicuous. The first guy tried to offer me a lift home, and I politely declined, telling him I already had a lift with Elvis.

"Elvis? e' chi Elvis?"
"Elvis, l'amico di Mirko."
"Mirko?"

I was starting to feel like I'd been given a duff deal here, I mean, Elvis? Is this guy for real and actually called Elvis or what? But this other dude didn't know Mirko - he clearly did as we'd all been at Light Bar earlier, but anyway. I knew exactly why he wanted to give me a lift home, and I'd rather not.

Then there were like another four boys around us, asking me if I had a 'machine' (macchina = machine and car) and then offering me a lift home. To which, I politely declined again.

And then bloody another kid! Ah my days, it was crazy. It didn't matter how good-looking they were (they really weren't.. sorry guys), I was not going to accept a lift home with them! Sheesh, what part of no didn't they understand.

Finally, and thankfully, Mirko appeared and we left. I think he was a bit surprised to see me so pleased to see him, but I was just so thankful to get out of that pesting circle of Italian boys..

I did get home eventually, with Mirko and Elvis. Who is really called Elvis. Mad.