Passing the day the Amish way

Hello my people

I speak to you having only recently re-embraced all of the technological marvels of these heady times. For a week I lived without gas and electricity, which made for a lot of time for introspection and pondering. During those days of self-reflection I considered what it is to be human: a creature that gobbles up all of the world's precious resources, while giving nothing back trapped in an endless cycle of consumerism and small-minded self interest.

Actually, I didn't. This may not come as a bombshell to you. By the way, why is a surprise referred to as a bombshell? If I saw one of these falling towards me from the sky, surprise would not be my first emotion. In fact, my first feeling would probably be a sensation of wettening around my pants area. Here are three things I'd personally find more surprising: a likeable Tory, a talking hamster or an Italian who understood the rules of the road. Let's see if any of these catch on in modern parlance. But anyways, in reality, I went to work, played guitar til it was dark, had a few beers and slept. I can't even remember what I was thinking about most of the time, so it was in all likelihood nothing game changing. I also went to the modern day Mecca that is Ikea more times than I would care to.

But yes, I was powerless for just over a week, and so had no lights, fridge, computer or hot water, which at first was a bit challenging, but soon became normal. It also meant a lot of romantic evenings at home by candlelight. Just a shame that most of the time I was on my tod. What affected my quality of life to the greatest degree was not being able to keep up with football's comings and goings, which may not come as much of a likeable Tory to you.

The title of today's blog is maybe a bit misleading, as 1) I wasn't rejecting modern ways as being those of the Devil, or whatever madness it is that the Amish believe, and 2) 'Day' should really be 'Days'. However for artistic license I'll just ignore these two quibbles as I think it has a nice ring to it as it is, and as a TEFL teacher it's not like I need to be accurate.

So, yeah, I have a flat now, and it's all to myself. This is fantastic, although it's a wee bit expensive. That said, if I work it's not a problem as I've done my calculations and so I know what I have to do to be getting by. The expensive part is a bit of a pain, as when I came to see it the landlord told me one number, which was ok, but then when I went to the lawyer's to sign the contract, the number had changed, and not in the good way. Still, it's a learning experience, which based on my previous means I'll probably pass up the opportunity to develop and will instead repeat the experience at least one more time. Of course I questioned why the number had changed, to which I was treated to a ten-minute dual explanation by the landlord and lawyer using technical-legal Italian. Regular Italian = ok, but as technical-legal English = bluffed understanding, you can imagine that technical-legal Italian = me drifting off and thinking about other stuff half way through when I realised that they'd repeated themselves a couple of times. I guess I'll just see how it goes, as it is a nice place and in a non-dodgy position in the centre of the city. It did leave a bit of a sour taste in the mouth though, and I don't know the Italian equivalent of: “don't piss in my pocket and tell me it's raining”, and mores the pity.

During the hours of daylight the other day, I was unpacking my bags and found a diary that I wrote in when I first arrived, all those moons ago. On the first day I met Simone and Katarina who for differing reasons have played quite big parts of my time in Genova, and it was weird to read about meeting them and first impressions (positive). Little did I know at the time that Simone would turn out to be a mortal enemy as a Samp fan. Life throws up talking hamsters sometimes, what can I say.

In other news from here, football has finally re-started, which means the inevitably enjoyable re-starting getting drunk on Sunday lunchtimes! Yay! The pub was good, the match ok. I'm also back into playing footy again, which was horribly hard for the first match, as my normally impeccable levels of fitness apparently suffered when I stopped dreaming about them and woke up to face the reality of having enjoyed myself quite a lot during summer.

Last weekend I was in a music video by popular Genovese beat-combo Enroco, which was a first, but after my virtuoso performance as Beach Hunk #1 (ok, so that's a self-appointed title), surely not the last. It was pretty cool, and it's sure to shoot us (myself and the band) straight to the top of the rickety ladder of fame until I get drunk on a plane and try to wee in a bottle. When the video's all finished I'll stick it up on here for you to marvel at my chiselled physique. It'll add to my portfolio of appearances on film after my previous memorable turn as Delighted Genoa Supporter during a game a few years ago. I'd like to think my cameo added real meaning to the word 'highlights'.

I can't really think of anything else to tell you, so I'll leave you with a line from the Shakespeare of our times, Lil Wayne:

“Real G's move in silence like lasagna.”

That's inspired.

Right, I'm off to help raise a barn, so til the next time,

Cheerio