THAT'S THE BRIT WAY

Once more brits reminded me the massive mistake I made only thinking that their country was going to be a piece of cake for me. My brit friends should thank me for the tons of times they laugh their ass off cos of me myself. And - frankly, once they discovered what a source of amusement we were - they never stopped to take the piss out of us. I will never forget the time they finally explained me that any proper Englishmen has been taught to use "Pardon me" just in case of a little fart, not surely to mean that they haven't heard properly. But by that time I already made that posh nancy boy think i had some health issues. 

Also, when S. started to enlist all the ways he knew to say three of the most important words of english language (don't think they're such useful words, it's just being drunk, fuck, and awesome) we fell asleep before he actually finished. Though now I can say I'm drunk in a thousand possible ways (Starting from being arseholed, hammered, loaded, 'till the classic get pissed) I still use and prefer the more american "get wasted". It's an expression that has its own power, and makes you feel how destroyed you got with less than 10 letters. About awesome's slang synonyms, I personally fell in love with immense. It's such a cracking word!

Even in the kitchen I have problems in simultaneous translating: who would have imagined that to find zucchini and eggplant I should have studied french? If in Tesco I ask for such vegetables, the only answer I get is a brassed off "sorry luv, we don't sell that thing".  When you say courgette and aubergine, then maybe you'll be able to put these dear goods in your cupboard!

Once a pretty bladdered D. shout to P. something he surely meant to be a nuance of surprise, but instead it made him sound like a quite fruity old tart: "Blow me down!" And M., who didn't really know the real meaning but had just studied a new nice way to offend in brit english, answered back: "shut your clanging cake hole!". That wasn't surely my cup of tea, but at least it wasn't a dull moment either. I have never laughed so much but, honestly, who wouldn't have after such a waterfall of nonsense sentences altogether? 

I could enlist another thousand moments where I couldn't really understand a word, and I had to learn quickly in order to survive: it's a muffler and not a scarf; She is fit, and you too; that thing it's a hob, how else would you call it? You twat, can't call a girl a old lad! And so on, making my poor figures basically endless. 

But I'm easy, a easy cheeky monkey. And L. and B. are smart arses as well, so we usually get it sorted with a big big smile. Easy Peasy.

Sigh, I will never get it sorted. English people are impossible. Sob.

OH,SO CHRISTMASISH!

Officially, I came back on the 8th. Sincerely, it's just since yesterday that I fully realized that i cannot call Italy "home". I always write about my need of "leaving DA Country" because somehow I felt it like the place I belong to. Now... not really. Ah. It's nice to see again my family, have Christmas with them, but please, not more than two weeks. I genuinely reckon more than that gets unbearable. 

Officially, I came back on the 8th. Unfortunately, thanks to tonsillitis and these six-days-of-fever, I spent three days in coma and the other six praying for a fast healing miracle. Off course, it didn't happen, or I'd be finally out of this building. 

Officially and Sincerely, I'd like to be in Leeds. There was Christmas in the air, a smell of chestnuts, hot chocolate and marshmallows allover the city centre and in every single café. There were lights and decors in every street (obsolete and pretentious, not at all nice) but there were. And it was getting into the snowy weather, which was annoying cold and slippery but really Christmasish.

Christmas All made in Leeds...

There was the German Market - were sellers were speaking bulgarian, romanian and italian - dozens of small stands with tiny useless gift. With sweets, food, beer, beer, beer, muller wine, honey. Hand-crafts. Tons of chocolate (only have liqueur inside. So choose well, or you could get gianduja and whisky), candy floss, crepes, nutella. Flows of Nutella. Sweet and sour candies, colourful popcorns. Christmas-themed parties, sales, alcohol sales.

Yes, I kinda miss my english Christmas. I dare say it was more challenging, and with no present owed to someone, I felt the heart and the true meaning of this festivity. We were just a bunch of friends that loved being together...maybe no christmas feast, maybe no christmas tree (at least not the usual one), no decorations nor gifts, just a lot of smiles, drinks, and parties altogether. Just the joy of being together. 

Here... I'm driving crazy looking for a nice gift for each of the 15 people that will eat here on the 25th. I'm pushing myself in order to bear my mother. I'm trying to teach my sister english because I have to, and Italian to my host-sis also because I have to, though I should study for my exams at some points but who cares. In a couple of weeks, right after Christmas, I'll probably have to go again to Florence, and do the classical tourist trip with the exchanges, but I just wanna go back home. Back to Leeds. I hope there will be a little of its Christmas charm once I'm back in January.