More stuff

Hello everybody, I realise that it's not been long since my last post, but I have some exciting-for-me-at-least news. Your lives will probably continue unperturbed. I also remembered some stuff that I meant to include last time.

So first, my news. I'm moving flat to an area of town called Marassi. It's beside the stadium, and brilliantly, from my bedroom window you can see the turnstile (ingresso) that I use. It's close enough that I can spit on the Sampdoria fans as they mill past. Not that, I will of course, I'm far too nice, but I could if I was so inclined. It's going to be sweet. I move on Sunday. In moving there I'll be fulfilling a childhood dream: when I was young and my dad took me to the Theatre of Dreams, aka Easter Road, I always said that I'd one day have a house next to the stadium and before games he could come and we'd have steak pies. I know, I dreamt big! It might be in a different country, but I'm still going to score that one of my list. All I need to do now is win the lottery, and have a house built in a cliff in the style of the batcave and I can die happy. The flat's about equi-distant to the centre as my old/current one, but this time I'll be maybe staying with students. I say maybe because I'm the first tenant - it's all been newly refurbished, so waiting on new people. Even though my old/current place is nice, and the ladies are nice, it's their house and I feel more like a lodger than at home. As Italy is basically now my new home, this is important.

I've been thinking a lot lately about next year. I had decided to come back to Italy, but couldn't decide whether to stay in Genoa or go elsewhere. I quite fancy Rome or generally a more Southern locale, but I'm essentially a creature of habit, and I've never seen the point in changing for the sake of change. True, Genoa isn't the most happening city in the world by a long stretch, but it's pretty easy to live in. True, people aren't particularly friendly, but I have a few friends here, and I only really see them at the weekends. During the week I'm too whacked to socialise. So maybe I've been having greedy thoughts? I don't know, but if I move I might just find the same issues in a different location, and what's the point in that??? Also, being the mature grown up that I am, I have to think about football - the stadium here's pretty unique in Italy in that there's no running track round the pitch. This makes the atmosphere much better than going to some enormo-bowl where there's only half the stadium full, and everyone straining to see what's happening. A lot of the time the fouls are invisible anyway (Damn you Fiorentina! see last post if you're confused), so this would make it even harder. Now that I'm a Genoano, I can't just change. It's not like a marriage or a democratically elected government - I've made a commitment in the eyes of God (he prefers Italy to everywhere else and sent his son back - Berlusconi actually compared himself to Jesus. What. An. Ass).
So yeah, at the moment, Genoa's for me. However, as with everything, this is subject to change.

In other news in the life of me, about a month ago I decided that I would embark on a gruelling exercise regime to sculpt myself into a Hulk-like character. Things are going well, although I've lost count of the number of shirts I've torn off when someone pushes me on the bus or walks slowly in front of me. "You won't like me when I'm mad! Michael smash!" However, a couple of weeks ago I became concerned. For about three days I had a really sore stomach, and when I ate I felt sick and very faint. Being rationally minded I decided that I was probably dying, so stopped my exercises (when you become an angel you're automatically ripped - check out the paintings) and took it easy. I've always (I think) had a bit of a bulge under my ribs on one side of belly, so put my malaise down to this obvious AlienTM growing inside me. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that after a couple of days I wasn't torn asunder by some freaky little thing exploding from my chest, but actually felt a lot better. It would seem that I felt rubbish because muscles were waking up from a loooooooooooooooooong hibernation and weren't too happy about it. Phew. So, I'm back on my regime, and pretty soon will be entering myself into Mister Universe. Watch this space...........

Of course I'm joking - Mister Universe is so degrading, and it's on at the same time as Miss World. Now there's some quality TV.

I think that's all for now folks,

Until next time, assuming I don't explode like John Hurt before then,

So long

The Kettle/Watergate Scandal

Hello my friends, and welcome once more to the undiluted slopping out of my brain that I like to call my blog.

Before I regale you with more drugs, sex and alcohol fuelled confessions of a teacher (sadly precious little of any of the above are included this week), I think I'll bulk this post up with what could euphemistically be described as my 'process' for writing a post. I hear you gasp thousands of kilometres away, but yes, some thought and occasionally even planning goes into these.
So, to begin. Over a week or so I garner many random thoughts, many of which are unsuitable for production. The few that I don't forget and that then make it through the rigorous self-censorship process are jotted down and published here, on t'internet, for you, me, and every man and his dog to read, even though we all know that dogs can't read. Rather than forming fully fledged ideas or thoughts, I save valuable time and effort by writing down key words. This can sometimes be confusing as I find bits of paper with things like 'parrots, lemon, Brignole' written on them. I'd like to think that in thousands of years time when the monkeys that survived our nuclear apocalypse are sifting through the rubble, they find my bits of paper and have to stop to scratch their heads, eat a banana, and fling faeces at each other. It might not be as grand as MLK's, but hey, everyone has to have a dream.

So, without further hesitation or procrastination, here's what I've mostly been thinking about this week:

1) Football
Seriously, who would've guessed that football would be in the list?! On Sunday I went to the home of the beautiful game in Italy, the Stadio Luigi di Ferraris to see Genoa play Fiorentina. Truly a big match, as the Viola (Fiorentina) were a mere 1 point ahead of the RossoBlu (Genoa) in the race for the final Champions League place. It being an Old Firm day, I did the Weegies proud by getting a little bit squiffy before the game. I met a guy from one of the factories I work at who I'd talked to about football, and who bizarrely, loves Scotland. When Scotland made their scheduled brief appearance at Italia '90 they played in Genoa, and Mauro met some Scots and got on swimmingly with them, which led to him going to see the Old Country and seeing Hearts play Spurs in a friendly at Swinecastle. Truly odd. He picked up some colourful language, and so we arranged to meet a in a f****** bar before the game. Imagine my disappointment when I arrived, and found out it was a regular bar! Anyways, drank a wee bit, and went to the game. Genoa went 3-0 up after 60 minutes, but with the slight sour note of having a man sent off. Then, with the aid of the referee who is clearly either married to a Florentine or owes money there, Fiorentina scored the equalising goal with the very last kick of the ball. 3-3. Damn you Mutu, you drug guzzling fool! It felt as if someone had stolen my money, kicked me in the nuts and then told me that all four of the hot Girls Aloud were born as boys. Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm writing this at home on Thursday night, and this festering filled wound continues to smart. Football is truly a cruel mistress.

2) A Kettle, or rather, TooMuchWaterInTheKettleGate
The scandal that will one day sink my run to be president of the world, TooMuchWaterInTheKettleGate erupted last weekend, and was extremely traumatic, although really quite straight forward. Basically, I was caught red-handed/with my trousers down/etc, filling the kettle with too much water (I'd like to point out now that my trousers were safely fastened around my waist). But yes, I type before you as a sinner, breaking God's unwritten, but universally understood 11th Commandment: "Thou shalt not useth too much water when thou hast to fill thy kettle." Apparently to the devout folks that I stay with this is a problem. If I drink the water from said kettle, I struggle to agree, but it seems I was using too much.

3) Students
It's getting near that time when many of my courses are finishing, and my students leave me like leaves from a tree in the Autumn. It's quite a sad time, as I get to know them for 30 or so hours and then like a proverbial lion cub they are forced to leave their father after he's killed by his evil uncle Scar, and have to fend for themselves in the big bad savannah, save for the comedic company of a MeerKat and a Warthog. Wait..... that's the plot of the Lion King, and for copyright reasons is very unlike my situation. None the less, it's a sad time. I'd like to think for my padewans more than me, but also for me. Little did I know that teaching would be such a roller coaster of emotions!

Well, I think that's all, my voodoo dolls of Adrian Mutu and the referee won't stick pins into themselves!

Ciao the now

Now with added cheer

Hello boys and girls.

You'll be indifferent to know that I'm cheerier than I was in my last post, my brothers and sisters. The literal flood of (two) emails that I received checking that I was ok was greatly appreciated. Ta.

So, yes, happier I am. When I last left you I teased you with the cliff hanger that I was off to see the Grande Genoa destroy the cretinly Catania (alliteration's awesome isn't it?). I regret to tell you that this turned out to be one of Genoa's poorest displays this season, drawing 1-1. It was a concern, as it looked as if they'd started to believe their own hype, and tried to overplay. That said, there is precious little hype about them - TV only seems to talk about Milan, Inter and Juve, which is a heart warming reminder of the 'impartiality' that we're fed in Scotland. 'We're' priviliged enough to be proverbially patted on the head by the guys here who are much happier talking about the big three. It's really kind of them to give us so much air time to be honest, but still annoys me infinitely less than the main commentator on ITV who just always seems to be wishing he was at Old Trafford watching the Man Ure. Uuugh! I'm not even in the country and he's grinding my gears!

Where was I? Ah, yes, Genoa v Catania. Genoa have a habit of turning up in the second half and then playing really well. True to form, it went 0-1, then the boys started to do good. Milito scored after about 77 minutes, and the atmosphere had been building up until that point like the rage in my ears when said ITV commentator is on. So, when he knocked the ball home, the pressure was released in joyous scenes around the stands. So much so, that the person behind me pushed me over and I fell about three rows down the stand. It was thoroughly exciting, in the way that the knowledge that you really could be seriously injured is. I was lying on the ground and saw a few people falling around me. It's true what people say - in moments of peril, things do become more lucid, and it was at that point that I realised that if I do nothing else in life, I have to watch more TV. But seriously, it was a bit hairy. I managed to cut my hand and bang my leg, but apart from that I was fine. The adrenaline was fair pounding through me, so didn't even realise I was bleeding til I got home. Brilliant times. Please enjoy the video I took before the fall. I didn't realise it was so short - I shall endeavour to take a longer one. You'll get the idea though - the atmosphere's great:

At the weekend I had a visitor over, so 'nuff respect goes out to Dave Bould for being the first person to visit me in my 7 months here. We went a snowboarding to Courmayeur, which is in the Alps and super expensive. Also very sweet though, much nicer than the slopes in Scotland. It was a great day of snow, and was overall just very fun. We got a bit more adventurous in the afty, and went off-piste a wee bit. This proved quite difficult for me, as I was trying to go down a narrow path quite slowly, which is really hard when your board is wider than the path. I had to turn my board to get through (which for the non-snowboarding literate speeds you up), which timed delightfully with jumpy bits. Not being ready in time I managed to fall and twist my knee quite nicely thank you very much. It was pretty sore, but like the big strong boy I am I stopped crying after 10 or 15 minutes and got on with it. Overall, a great day, but exhausting. Here's some photos:

Dave came to Genoa for a couple of days, so we sauntered round in the lashing rain and saw the inside of a bar. Truly the British tourist experience. It was really good to have him over, and it was nice to not be on my oddy knocky for a weekend.

I think that's all folks,

Ciao the now