run-around samin
today, i decided to pretend to be organized. when i got to zibibbo, i whipped out the draft and tried to get bv to work on it with me, but she was preoccupied with her dying computer. so i ended up making a tortino di patate with cristina to use up all of the leftover boiled potatoes that we had. we sliced the potatoes and made a crust with them in a little cake pan, and then put in some pancetta, white onion, oregano and mozzarella. then we covered it with more potato and filled up the pan with beaten eggs and baked the entire thing in the oven for about 10 minutes.
i told everyone at work that they should hurry up and make as much fun of me as they can, and also to blame everything that is going wrong and breaking on me, because after saturday, they won't be able to for a while. they were so sad to realize that, and so they hopped right back to making fun of the way i pronounce english. it's one thing for them to make fun of my italian, but it really takes the cake when they start to poke fun at my english. what?! i get a kick out of it, though, so i play along and give them more material.
i eventually left zibibbo (after eating a yummy piece of the tortino), and raced back home, took a shower, made a list of all of the stuff i have to do, and actually went and did it. i don't think i have ever done that before.
first, i went to get my hair trimmed at this place around the corner. they know me because i bought some hair goop there a while ago, but it's kinda super-trendy and all of thet stylists wear black, so i was afraid to get my hair cut there. i just feel so intimidated by people who are that cool, but i didn't want to go to the place where i got my hair cut last time, this scary salon school, so i just bit the bullet and went in. they all tried to speak english to me, and i responded in italian, and finally we talked a little. my dude's name was fabio, and he was kinda ditzy. he started to cut my hair, and then went to arrange some flowers, have a little gossip, and then he finally came back to me.
i told him that i had a cultural question to ask him, and he looked at me like i was nuts. i said that there is this hairstyle in america called the mullet (and i translated it for him as muggine) and i described it to him. i said that it's kinda hicky in america, but it's totally trendy here, and i thought that that was pretty funny. he looked at me like i was on crack. i asked if there is an italian word for mullet, and he said not really, but we discussed the cycle of trends and he thought it was all funny. then, i whipped out the saying "all business in front and a party in the back" and he loved it! he even demonstrated how his own hairdo is a potential mullet. i told him that they should advertise mullets in the window, and we stared at people in the salon and passersby pointing out mullets and fake mullets and things. he tried to say that this other stylist had a mullet, and i said that that wasn't even close--it was definitely a faux-hawk. and they loved that, too! it was a great moment for the mullet, a real transcultural experience. the mullet is so much more than a hairdo. it really brings people together.
i warned him then not to give me a mullet.
and he didn't.
later, i took zibibbo's knives to get sharpened, and i went to the walk-in clinic to get those weird red spots and my mole checked out by a dermatologist. i love the walk-in clinic--it costs less to see a doctor there than it did for me to get my hair cut. my red spots were from the virus i had a few weeks back, and my mole is fine. yay, i'm not dying. he also told me that if it's not obligatory to get the malaria vaccine, then it's my choice. i'm going to skip it--if it seems dangerous when i get to pakistan, then i'll get it there. but he said that it's a pretty serious treatment, and if i don't need to get it, i shouldn't. i agree.
i also bought a large and in charge jar of nutella for the peeps in 'stan (because the italian nutella is the only one worth eating), and some other presents for them and my family and friends in iran. i think i am done shopping, thankfully. now, i just have to finish organizing the book stuff, and i can relax.
i told everyone at work that they should hurry up and make as much fun of me as they can, and also to blame everything that is going wrong and breaking on me, because after saturday, they won't be able to for a while. they were so sad to realize that, and so they hopped right back to making fun of the way i pronounce english. it's one thing for them to make fun of my italian, but it really takes the cake when they start to poke fun at my english. what?! i get a kick out of it, though, so i play along and give them more material.
i eventually left zibibbo (after eating a yummy piece of the tortino), and raced back home, took a shower, made a list of all of the stuff i have to do, and actually went and did it. i don't think i have ever done that before.
first, i went to get my hair trimmed at this place around the corner. they know me because i bought some hair goop there a while ago, but it's kinda super-trendy and all of thet stylists wear black, so i was afraid to get my hair cut there. i just feel so intimidated by people who are that cool, but i didn't want to go to the place where i got my hair cut last time, this scary salon school, so i just bit the bullet and went in. they all tried to speak english to me, and i responded in italian, and finally we talked a little. my dude's name was fabio, and he was kinda ditzy. he started to cut my hair, and then went to arrange some flowers, have a little gossip, and then he finally came back to me.
i told him that i had a cultural question to ask him, and he looked at me like i was nuts. i said that there is this hairstyle in america called the mullet (and i translated it for him as muggine) and i described it to him. i said that it's kinda hicky in america, but it's totally trendy here, and i thought that that was pretty funny. he looked at me like i was on crack. i asked if there is an italian word for mullet, and he said not really, but we discussed the cycle of trends and he thought it was all funny. then, i whipped out the saying "all business in front and a party in the back" and he loved it! he even demonstrated how his own hairdo is a potential mullet. i told him that they should advertise mullets in the window, and we stared at people in the salon and passersby pointing out mullets and fake mullets and things. he tried to say that this other stylist had a mullet, and i said that that wasn't even close--it was definitely a faux-hawk. and they loved that, too! it was a great moment for the mullet, a real transcultural experience. the mullet is so much more than a hairdo. it really brings people together.
i warned him then not to give me a mullet.
and he didn't.
later, i took zibibbo's knives to get sharpened, and i went to the walk-in clinic to get those weird red spots and my mole checked out by a dermatologist. i love the walk-in clinic--it costs less to see a doctor there than it did for me to get my hair cut. my red spots were from the virus i had a few weeks back, and my mole is fine. yay, i'm not dying. he also told me that if it's not obligatory to get the malaria vaccine, then it's my choice. i'm going to skip it--if it seems dangerous when i get to pakistan, then i'll get it there. but he said that it's a pretty serious treatment, and if i don't need to get it, i shouldn't. i agree.
i also bought a large and in charge jar of nutella for the peeps in 'stan (because the italian nutella is the only one worth eating), and some other presents for them and my family and friends in iran. i think i am done shopping, thankfully. now, i just have to finish organizing the book stuff, and i can relax.