The Adventures, Mishaps and Musings of Me

My last entry could be called "Counting my opera tickets before they're sold." Painfully, my friends got to see the opera because they were all on time at 5:30 to collect their tickets (or rather the slip of paper that would later be turned into a ticket). I, the person who got everyone together in order to make the trip in the first place, was late coming back at 5:30, and thus could not. My friends tried to collect my ticket for me, but they are strict on only giving out cheap ticket slips to people who can represent themselves in person. Thus, in my fifteen minutes of lateness, the ticket slip that had my name on it was sold (with German efficency) to the cancellation line. Little to say, very black disappointment followed.

There were three reasons for my lateness when it came to returning to the opera at 5:30. Firstly, my shirt. I knew passing the dress code could be problematic so I took special care in selecting the one out of my three shirts to wear that was most suitable. Not my electric blue shirt, not my stripy silver shirt, but my plain black shirt. Sensible, one could say. However, last week I had (very comedically) spilt hot chocolate down my black shirt while trying to run for an elevator, thus I had to spend 2 hours putting the black shirt though the wash and tumble dryer to have it ready. This time spent meant I was cutting it fine to travel from my dorm to the centre of Milano, but providing there were no setbacks all should have been fine.

Which brings us to the second reason: Trams. The word "tram" should explain lateness in itself. Also, to put salt in the wound, I realised at this point that because of the coat put over the top of my jacket and shirt, when I entered, no-one would have been judging the style of my shirt in "how well I was adhering to the dress code" anyway. Thankyou logic for occuring to me too late.

( Self Pity Continued Under Here... )

Before I start, let's get one thing straight : Italy is no more racist then any other country on this planet. The lower ends of the working class cannot deal with the idea of immigrants - a characteristic that is true of pretty much every nation. This is not simply constrained to an "Italian problem". So, with that in mind, let me account my Saturday night...

"This doesn't look like a nice area," was the remark of my (very, very camp) Idonesian friend when we got off the metro... with a 2km walk ahead of us through an unknown area, on the outskirts of Milan. "Yes, doesn't look like the type of place you'd expect an opera house to be," I replied, marvelling at the sheer amount of graffiti, litter and abandoned warehouse buildings. I mean, my dormitory is situated on the edge of a pretty rough area filled with prostitutes, but this was a whole new level of "ghetto". Nevertheless, we set off... using a roughly sketched map copied from Google as our guide. Couple that with the fact that both me and my friend look pretty exotic compared to Italian standards - he's clearly Asian and I've got pale skin and red hair - we might as well have been carrying a flashing sigh reading "NOT FROM AROUND HERE!". Boy, did we feel safe.

At the first road we had to cross, a drunk guy on a moterbike drove past, yelling immigrant insults at us. You would have thought that 8pm was too early for drunk guys to be yelling and driving moterbikes, but not here! We walked further, more people drunkenly yelled at us from moterbikes and cars. Frankly, as long as they didn't stop, we didn't care.

"Wait, is that car up ahead slowing down?"

Oh, crap.

Text message received at 5:30pm:  Hey Vice Chief, I'm really sick so can't make it to the student union board meeting, could you please go on my behalf?  It's tonight at 6pm.

*checks watch, checks message, checks watch*

Self:  I'm just about to cook dinner and read that chapter on Macroeconomics I should have read three weeks ago; the last thing I want to be doing is going out in the dark, cold and wet in order to spend two hours arguing noisily in the SU in a meeting of which I don't even know what is to be discussed.

But, on the other hand...

If I don't go on exchange next year, and instead stay in Italy then I definately want to have the position of Chief Editor of the student magazine... something that should be handed to me when the Chief steps down at the end of this year...   Still, that's not an absoloute given, and it definately wouldn't be a good look out as Vice Chief to refuse to attend a meeting...  Besides, it would allow me to talk to the very, very top of the SU... getting on the good side of the SU President would definately be a plus...

Text message sent at 5:31pm:  Of course.  What room is it?

Above fact proven by fadagaski  staying with me in Milano over the weekend - she wasn't a social retard/stalker/otherwise freak!  She was fun!

( Fadagaski's and Jackk's Milanese Adventures... )

After this good "meeting people from the internet" experience, I am now open to giving tours to internet friends who happen to come to Milan for a weekend.  Just get yourself a room - the sneaky sleepover thing, though fun, was WAAAAAAAAAAYYYY too much hassle.
 

Yesterday, before going to the Bocconi film night we went to a Cuban bar for Happy Hour.  Happy hour is something ALL bars in Milan are involved in where, everyday between the hours of 6 and 9, if you buy a cocktail you get to have a free all you can eat buffet meal.  Believe me, it's awesome!  And yesterday we decided to go to a Cuban bar that my South American friend had spotted. 

For our own personal safety, we are never going back.

( Here is Why... )

I have had such a fantastic weekend.  Really, really fantastic.

( Weekend Tales... )

With student life!!

OK I'll give you a quick blast of news and (occasionally naughty) anecdotes concerning last week.  Let's see... on Monday I went out to a buffet bar that actually turned out to be a secret birthday party (I never understand why people want to keep their birthdays a secret - I've been telling people about mine ever since I got to Bocconi :P).  Food, drink and conversation - three of my favourite things! 

On the way home, at around midnight, I decided to take a short cut across a park to get to my dorm.  As I walked across, I suddenly became aware of this groaning sound coming to my right and I innocently turned to look to find... 0_0;  Let's just say I've now nicknamed that bush "The Sex Bush" and that it was most definately occupied Monday night.  Luckily, they were both pretty absorbed in what they were doing so either didn't notice me (or didn't care) as I scampered away to my dorm as quickly as possible.  I now give that bush a wide birth when walking home between the hours of midnight and two (the high time for prostitutes) as it has been occupied on... uh... several occasions- though after the first time, I now know not to try and look to see what is making the groaning noises.

On Tuesday, I used my genius to master the washing machines!  I was planning to take all my dirty clothes home with me for my Mum to wash, but I was running low on socks so matters had to be (successfully) taken into my own hands.

On Wednesday, I went to the club "Old Fashion" for an international student party and they were having an England themed buffet!  Fish and chips (though, not proper fish and chips - it was more like "fish fingers and fries"), roast beef (cooked in a totally Italian way - thin slices, very rare) and shepards pie.  I got all my friends who where with me that night (from Italy, Lithuania, Paraguay, China and some random country that I can never remember) to try Shepards pie (something I personally am not that fond of after been scarred over the years by having it way too often on a Wednesday courtesy of my Grandma) and my friend from China loved it!  So much that she went back for seconds :P

The following morning I was woken up (painfully) at nine o clock by the bloody cleaning lady who wanted to make my bed while I was in it.  Officially, cleaning ladies are evil. 

On Friday, I went out to another student party at another club called "Lime Light".  This night was noticable for being the first night that I tried the cocktail named "Angelo azzurro" (in English - "Blue Angel") - one of the strongest cocktails you can buy in Italy.  I'm not completely sure what it's made up of, but I've been told it's mainly a mix of vodka and tequila.  And, believe me, you have one of those and you seriously lose the feeling in your legs.  Plus, it makes the clubbing experience sooooo much better.  It sort of makes everything blur and you just go with it.  Become one with the crowd and the pumping music.  Fantastic.

After that night, I got back at around 6:00am to have great difficulty taking off my converses, which I'd stupidly done a double knot in.  It was a heck of a challenge and required all my concentration to untie them but, eventually after several (many) minutes, I conquered my pesky shoe laces!

Saturday was awesome.  I spent the whole of the day snoozing and eating the occasional cookie that where positioned wonderfully in reach on my bed side shelf.  At 6 o clock (still in bed) I started phoning people to go to a club recommended by my Finnish friend called "Rolling Stones".  After eating dinner at Bocconi (the canteen stays open untill 9:00pm and sereves tastier dishes for two Euros then you can buy (for 10 pounds) in English restaurants.  We set off to what I vote as the best club I've been to so far. 

Firstly, it is a hell of a lot classier then some of the grungy pits I've been to in the past few weeks.  And secondly, it has two dance floors - one for R & B, techno, house etc. and another for Rock, which is more like a mosh pit - awesome!  And you get two free drinks on entrance (some clubs only give you one) and when drinks normally cost 10 Euros, you really start to value your free drink tokens.  Espicially since I have a principle of not letting Italian guys buy me drinks - mainly, because I don't want to "lead them on" so to speak. 

Speaking of Italian guys... (after a moments reflection on whether to include this or not, I've decided it's just too hilarious not to include!).  I was dancing with an Italian guy (he had a goatee, once again proving the facial hair rule) and, by nature, Italian guys are rather... er... saucy on the dance floor (in Italy you don't go to a club to drink, as in say England/Northen Europe, you go to dance).  After a while he started to kiss me (rather tonguingly) on the cheek and neck.  Slightly taken aback, irratated and amused by this, all at once, I...

Blew a huge raspberry on his face!

His look of surprise was priceless!

Oh, yeah, my course.  I'm lovin' it!  Although, seven maths lectures in a week is a bit much.

OK, it's the morning after my first "clubbing" experience in Milan and it was bloody fantastic!  At Bocconi, they where handing out "free drink" vouchers for Thursday night at the club "Shocking" and, with only a maths lecture in the afternoon on Friday, me and some friends decided to make use of them.  In our heads we thought it was gonna be some kind of student party - we were so, so, so wrong!

( Milan Awesome-ness Continued... )

I'm on LJ as I'm currently in a state of unfocused contemplation in trying to figure out the events from between the middle and the end of a short black comedy farce I'm writing.  I'm not going to use the W-B word as, firstly,  that phrase is used far too often and, secondly, it's not writing so much as plotting.  Best to do something else, letting it mull over in my subconcious untill the inspiration, comlpetely unexpectedly, pops out!  Heck, it worked this morning in the shower :P

What to blog about... topic, topic, topic... Ah ha!  The evils and europhia of mail order shopping!

Last week, my sister and I went halfsies on the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack (original London cast - Michael Crawford/Sarah Brightman  :D).   We ordered it (at an extremely reasnoble price) on a Saturday from good old Amazon - it stated that the CD would be sent immediatey from within the UK by first class post. 

The game was set.

( Evils and Europhia Continues Under Here... )