Wednesday, May 30, 2007

The French Flagellum

Finally, I’m back. I’ve been on holiday, and it was great: Crete, where I had never been before, was sunny and warm, with miles of beach and no one as far as the eye could see. I spent one week going to sleep early at night, taking morning walks, and laying in sun (with sunscreen protection all over!!) all day long.

Then I got back to Italy for a few days with my parents, and that’s where things begun to go back to normal.
Firstly, I went to see my dentist in order to have a check-up and a deep cleansing of my yellowish teeth. The guy, who’s been a family friend like, forever, told me I needed to have both my upper wisdom teeth removed.
Needless to say, I panicked a bit, so when he asked me when I would be in Italy, in order to make an appointment, I babbled “I don’t know exactly, you see, I have the new job and everything…” and so on.
I was still trying to find a way out of this situation when he turned handling a syringe.
“Look DDgirl, after all I have another 20 minutes without any client coming, so I can deal with it right now”
And before I had the time to scream NOOOOOOO, it was done.

So that’s how I came back to KS after 10 days of holidays looking like a deformed pig!

Anyway, things with KS went on as always (meaning: we’re in love, all TLC and so on), until his parents came the day we were finally moving.
We had been painting the walls and the ceiling of the living room all Friday long, and, for once, we had managed to do a good job. On Saturday morning we started moving the furniture and all our stuffs, expecting for KS parents to show up to help us, as agreed.
When they arrived it was 5PM and I was exhausted, dirty and nervous: my teeth still ached a lot, and our things felt so heavy!!!
KS was at the new flat, while I was packing a few last things at the old one, so it was only one hour later I discovered that, instead of helping us carrying stuff, KS father was putting on some more plaster on the walls and the ceiling. Like, the walls & ceiling I had been painting all day long, just 24 hours before.

I did note scream at him. I did not throw anything at him, either. But he must have seen the storm in my eyes.
That’s why, from this moment on, KS’ dad, aka my father in law, will be known as “The French Flagellum”.
Stay tuned to read about my revenge!!

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Haunting you

I’m back from my mountaineering ski tour, which led me from Chamonix to Zermatt: The Haute Route , known by mountain lovers from all the world, I guess.
It was great, tiring like nothing else I’ve ever tried, especially as the weather kept changing from sun to snow, wind, storms…
I would like to tell you more, but those experiences are difficult to be put into words, and I don’t wanna be boring.

I came back to town yesterday night, and it was great to have KS at the station waiting for me, to make love to him after one week of separation. I do love him, and I’m so glad he’s in my life, I could spend many millions nights in his arms.

But you all know this, I know. Well, I have a spicier thing to tell about.

The Little Prince is in town. I should have known it, because I dreamt I met him last night, but I don’t trust a lot in all what’s “supernatural”, so I didn’t give it a second thought. Plus, it wasn’t a revealing dream or anything, I just dreamt I happened to cross his ways and exchange hellos with him. Nothing meaningful, as you see.
But this morning, when I got to work (two days till I quit!!! Yuppiiee) I crossed L., who happens to be an acquaintance of the Little Prince, and he asked me to join him for a coffee. And the he told me he had heard from the LP, who is in town and would like to see me but doesn’t want to call me as I really turned him down last time he did it. I didn’t respond anything, but smiled. L., who happens to be the less intuitive guy in the world, probably did not realize it was a cruel smile, but who cares. So, when a few minutes later my cell phone rang and the Little Prince called to ask me for lunch, I wasn’t really unprepared. Rather, I was planning things already.

The last words he had told me were still whispering in my head, “If we were meant to be together, that would still be the case”.

I arrived at lunch late, which I usually never do. He looked annoyed, asked me what the matter was.
I said “You left me waiting for you so many times, you can’t complain!” but in a cool way, as if to say “I’m still yours”. The Little Prince spent the next half an hour talking charming subjects, and then started to babble about how he misses me and how he never ever again met a girl like me.
“DDgirl, please, tell me you still care about me. I think I love you”
“Do you?”
“Yes. You know I don’t say this easily”
“Oh yes, I know it. I’ve known it very well for the whole year you kept me hanging, months without a word, never a single compliment, never a “you’re beautiful”, never anything nicer than “meet me outside the hotel”. Thank-you, I’m done with you. And I hope I’ll haunt your dreams for long, so you’ll learn what it means to have to swallow your pride and lose. And now you’ll excuse me, but I have to meet my boyfriend to chose the kitchen for our new home. Take care”.
And I left, letting him pay the bill. After all, he is a noble, so why should he go Dutch with someone so ordinary like me?