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Showing posts from July, 2010

Library blues in Milan...

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I gotta get down to serious business, finishing my book etc but there are so many distractions around here. My mum keeps interrupting me with mundane stuff for one. Bless her, it is good to be home. I've also been corresponding with this guy I met a couple of weeks ago and his status updates are quite fabulous. The last one was "Mhmmm...the smell of sex..." fucking hell, I am trying to be as asexual as possible these days cos I have stuff to sort out but this is all very distracting...we're supposed to meet up and hang out when I return from Oslo in August...he seems to be fun which is a strong requirement for me to keep going in general. Anyway, I told my mum a couple of weeks ago that I'd cut her hair and dye it but she didnt feel like it. Last night, I mentioned as delicately as possible that I need not be interrupted while I write from tomorrow (today) so what did she decide to do today? Dye her hair. And I felt obliged to cut it for her. Glad I did it cos sh

Ding Dong! The Biatch is married - It's raining love and Lordi - Part II

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Though the trip from Marseilles to Fuveau (where The Biatch's wedding was held) is no longer than 34km, it took me two hours to get there after I collected Jonathan and Ester from Castellan. No queues anywhere. I got lost cos in Provence road signs seem to be optional. The ceremony was supposed to start at 5pm and as I finally took the right turn and drove along a road adorned by beautiful trees with heavy foliage by 4pm, we were all relieved that we'd have enough time to get ready. I had to squeeze into a very tight 1940-style dress and I knew that would take a lot of patience, strategic planning and I might have to spend quite a bit of time holding my breath. At the end of the long road on the grounds of the castle where The Biatch had chosen to have her formal wedding this year, we noticed a blond figure wearing a wedding dress accompanied by a photographer and another woman. I could have turned left into the car park but I decided to drive past to say hi. "Oh my God,

Ding Dong! The Biatch is married - and the Worst Woman's pilgrimage to Provence...Part I

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Going on a six-hour trip on your tod can be a challenging proposition but I am used to travelling by myself after all the business trips of the past, yet when I decided to hire a car to drive from Milan to Marseilles, I had no idea it would be so adventurous. I felt like a member of the Scooby Gang. Without the Gang. The landscape was truly scenic - through Genoa then along the coast, hitting Monaco, Cannes and Nice on the way. The toll booths are killers. As in, they kill your purse, disintegrating its contents. And so many of the bastards are placed one next to the other... Luckily, however, Marseilles is a beautiful little town. On the sea, full of fascinating historical buildings and insane people behind the steering wheel (it felt like I had not left Italy), Marseilles was worth the long drive... (A view of Cours Julien, Marseilles centre) The adventure began when I hired a car at Hertz on the Friday. A cute Fiat Panda with a CD player and plenty of space for one person and

An abrupt ending...

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I am currently getting ready to go to Provence in France for the wedding of a dear friend of mine - Nelly The Chief Biatch Liger. So last Friday I decided to get in touch with the girl that did my nails last year - Giulia De Angelis. We met through the nail business but she turned out to be someone who inspired me. Not a quality I would associate with a beautician type girl. Back in July last year, I mentioned her in my blog as well, so interesting and odd our first meeting turned out. A reminder of our first meeting here: "The whole thing started off with the usual boring and superficial conversation that you have with beauticians - where you are from, what you do etc...She was originally from Salerno but moved to Milan cos she met her boyfriend who is from up here. The thought of having to spend two hours in the company of an airhead filled me with dread but it had to be done in order for my nails to look hot (a case of the teapot calling the kettle black). I am good at small

Coheed and Cambria live in Torino - mission impossible

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Some people I am surrounded by have special talents. Some have special needs. What we may have in common is that we all have one or more missions in life. No mission is more or less important than another. For the last couple of years, mine has been to catch Coheed and Cambria on a bad day. Last night's live performance, as part of the proggie band's current European tour, was sadly another disappointment. After seeing them live 15 times since 2008 - in Norway, the UK, Italy and the US (I do take my job seriously), I have come to the conclusion that Coheed and Cambria are physically unable to deliver not only a bad show but a mediocre one. The crystal clear sound also maximised the intensity levels of the above. And all the interviews the band was supposed to do in the afternoon were carried out to the letter. So what does that all mean? They're obviously incapable of surrounding themselves with unprofessional idiots, too. Go figure. If there was ever a doubt about Cohee