Say Goodbye.

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At the beginning of January I decided to end a relationship I had been heavily involved in for a few years. As it goes, sheer boredom got to me and I was eyeing another fine specimen for a while (which also happened to be eyeing me), and so I began to make excuses and lists in my head as to why I should leave the relationship I was currently in, and also why I should stay. For almost a year, I went on this way, trapped in the guilt of my swaying thoughts and questions, my doubts, and the excitement that I cannot deny I felt about being with this new cutie-patootie. Should I go? Should I stay? But we have such a history together and have learned so much about one another. We look good together. We know one another’s moods, we have been inseparable and I know very well how to push the buttons on him, this fine specimen I was originally smitten with. He gives me all I need, but in the end, is that enough? I could have more and be more satisfied with a new love. When it came to looks, there really was no competition. My current love is broad and bulky, sort of chubby, short, and with age has gotten hard to understand as he doesn’t always make sense. My younger crush and new interest has it all-sleek, always looking crisp, intellectually sharp (ironically, I had to spell check intellectually), and fit. Clearly, I have been bedazzled and in the end, the power of excitement and even Matlock’s persuasion and blessing lead me to close my eyes and take the plunge.

I broke up with my black berry.

I ripped its SIM card heart out without warning and crushed it.

I’m that kind of person.

Through an email distributed by the Moms and Tots group I still somewhat belong to, I got word that a fellow hip mom was selling her gently used iphone 4s. Matlock suggested I should take the offer because the price was good and so this was the final push I needed to solidify the thoughts and researching I had been doing over the last few months. I wanted a new phone, but I just couldn’t decide which one. And, being raised Catholic, I develop attachment and guilt for anything and anyone and my cell phone was not immune to this blurred boundary of rationality. Come to think of it, I’m truly surprised I don’t hold onto old used toothbrushes for sentimental/guilty purposes. Anyways, with my solidified decision, thoughts of how I could possibly throw my old phone away swirled in my head. But now, all was decided and done.

This new object of my affection came into our house with welcomed arms by the Albino Hulk and Little Miss Stubborn and almost immediately became known as ‘new iPhone’ but since he was bought here in Luigi-land, I called him Luigi. Matlock’s old iPhone become known as ‘old iphone’ and both items made the kids believe they could play games whenever they wanted and now they didn’t have to fight over allotted time. Kids keep it simple and call it like they see it. Luigi and I had to get to know one another a bit and spend some time together. Finally, after stealing glances at him whenever I walked into a phone store, or after stalking him online and reading his ‘biography’, I could finally learn what made him ping and tick and shake by pressing his buttons properly.

Oh what fun we had-I stayed up late certain nights being entertained by all the things Luigi could do. He really understood me, you know, and always knew exactly what I was looking for and had the uncanny ability to properly say the things I just couldn’t get quite out (auto-correct is a marvellous and hilarious algorithm). We had fun and I often thought how foolish I was to hang onto the blackberry for so long when other than it’s one really fun side (black berry messenger), it really didn’t make me happy at all. Luigi was what it was all about.

Then one morning, my new love affair ended. On a packed bus on our morning commute, someone whisked Luigi into the hands of another lover and our relationship was over. That’s right, I got pick-pocketed by a fellow morning commuter and after two weeks, Luigi was gone from my life. Somewhere between bus stop three and four of my morning regular commute, it all ended and the real kicker is that I always get off the bus at the fourth stop of my routine. Ooooh, so close! Some jackass unzipped my jacket pocket and simply took it out. Being re-smitten and in love again I never noticed something was amiss (and also because I was tending to the kids who were asking if they could play with the iphones on their way to school). I declined giving the kids the phone as I do not want them to be dependant on devices for entertainment. Foolish me! Had I done so, I would still be in blissful union with Luigi today. Instead, I got off the bus and started patting my pockets on my coat and jeans like a German lederhosen dancer. Matlock took the news harder than I. Could it be he had developed a deep liking to Luigi over the two weeks we had been together? That’s a ridiculous thought because Matlock is so smitten with his own youngest and latest mistress in the iPhone lineage, but I do know he misses Luigi indeed. Luigi gave Matlock and I face-time and that is something my blackberry could never do but I wasn’t mad about the phone being stolen. Don’t get me wrong, I miss Luigi too because he sure did satisfy me, but it was just a phone-fling, that’s all. What did upset me the most was that I had not downloaded the heaps of fun photos and videos taken of the kiddos on our two-week excursion and those were now lost for good. I can’t deny though that I did worry about how would I go back to my first stubby, broad, short love and still be able to keep my chin up and find true happiness again.

Truth be told, it didn’t take long and I found I did miss the blackberry. And, he welcomed me with open arms. I bought a new SIM card to symbolize our fresh start together and told everyone the news of our new beginning (my new phone number), and we have been beeping and ringing along just swell. Every once in a while, Matlock will grumble something about how I let Luigi go, but I don’t listen anymore. Sure, it takes the black berry about ten minutes to load up my current location in my google maps app when I am lost, but this allows me to sit back, grab a tea (I am just slightly addicted to Kusmi Tea), and try to read a local newspaper in italian and try to decipher what is happening in this groovy city. Festivities for Carnevale are over and all confetti has been swept from the cracks in the pavement until next year. Milan has a new metro line that is open and this particular extension called the M5 is driverless and copies the metro system of Copenhagen. As I write this, Milan is in the middle of an election where votes are taking place today and tomorrow. Given all the news about Europe’s condition of economic health, it is interesting being here knowing the whole world is watching to see how Italy will add to the resolution of this crisis with whomever gets elected. Women’s fashion week was on this week and I got to go to my first ever fashion show with my sister, Ania. The experience was short, but ever ever so sweet. Milan’s world expo plans for 2015 are constantly moving along and I’m crossing my fingers and eyes that we will still be living here to experience the buzz and excitement that will descend on this city when the expo commences. There is lots more going on in this marvellous town where according to quirky laws, it is actually forbidden to stop smirking or smiling in public. Should you frown, you will be fined. Clearly, this is not a law that is followed closely and is filed in the ‘ridicolo’ folder along with ‘it is illegal to use a cell phone while driving’, or ‘car seats for children are mandatory’, or the more ‘social’ law where ordering a cappuccino after 11am is taboo.

Will I ever flirt and fraternize with Luigi again? Time will tell. On the advice of a friend, I did go to the police station to file a claim of personal robbery. She had her phone stolen and nine months later, police recovered it and returned it to her. I started the claim online which enabled me priority in the cue at the police station because I was already an open-file. Going to a police station and being picked to be seen in an orderly system is about as organized and systematic as being chosen to be the next contestant on the Price is Right. A police man in a fancy suit comes out of an office every few minutes or so to see who is in the waiting room, and for what. He addresses the crowd generally and like a celebrity is instantly swarmed. He nods his head a few times listening to the swarm of people describing what they need and ever so slowly starts to back up back into his office. As he is backing up, he redirects a few people to where they need to go in the police station based on their information and then he disappears. Minutes later, he reappears and asks the same question but this time, the only difference is he has more brioche crumbs on his uniform jacket as he is swarmed yet again. When I said I needed to complete my claim of theft that I started online, it was like I guessed the actual retail price of my showcase. I was told I had priority and was taken into the office right away. I filled out some forms and had a good laugh when I had to give a thorough physical description of my iPhone, including it’s color. I signed some documents and left with my papers.

Truth be told, I don’t expect to ever see Luigi in my life again and so to him I have said goodbye and hence this song title borrowed from Dave Matthew’s Band. My theft claim documents will be a fantastic souvenir from our time here in Milan and to get over our time with Luigi, Matlock and I are keeping busy with our visitor in town. As mentioned before, Ania my younger sister is in town and she’s staying two whole months. TWO MONTHS! Good times already done, and good times still to come. Saying goodbye to her in April will be hard indeed and I loathe it already.

My only physical reminder of Luigi. Pity I won't get that photo of Little Miss Stubborn and I.

My only physical reminder of Luigi. Pity I won’t get that photo of Little Miss Stubborn and I.

Life after Luigi. We are smiling again.

Life after Luigi. We are smiling again.

Photos from a dance floor on a memory-fogged night in Milan.

Photos from a dance floor on a memory-fogged night in Milan.



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This entry was posted in Accidents, Albino Hulk, Extended Family, Little Miss Stubborn, That's an Italian fact. and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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