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I was hoping to finish this post a few weeks ago and before our departure from Milano, but alas, this never happened. Now, one month in London, Milan is officially over and we are adjusting to our new streets and new views, yet I still feel like we are here on vacation. There is nothing for me to complain about London, other than the fact that I just miss Milan. It’s plain and simple. Having the house packed up in Milan, all that was left for me to do was to clean the flat from top to bottom before the landlord showed up and took my keys away. Even then as I scrubbed and sang my little strained voice out, I was in denial like a seriously-balding man sporting a skimpy ponytail to the fact that we were moving. Was this really happening? I spent my last couple of days running last-minute errands, and said more last-minute goodbyes to familiar faces, and visited my favourite venues for a last-minute indulgence of decaf cappuccino and brioche all while wiping those darn tears that escaped my eyes at the last minute and allowed my real emotions be exposed even though I desperately tried to hide them like a runner-up in Miss Universe. Those final days went by so fast and even with all my best intentions, I never got a chance to say my farewells to everyone and emotionally, it will take even longer to do so.
Little Miss Stubborn showed some stress with us leaving as the day approached, but she did stellar. Her classmates and teachers did a phenomenal job of celebrating her on her last day, leaving her feeling all warm and fuzzy. Even now, she still speaks of all her friends across the Channel and of that last day. The Albino Hulk definitely has moments of feeling blue, but then he just eats something and he is fine all over again. But, both kiddos are adjusting so well and are enjoying their new academic hangout.
Lumbergh is in heaven. He now gets to take his favourite appendage-attachment on long train rides because here in London they know know how to do coffee on the go. From said cup, he savours every sip all while watching a movie on an iPad. He sits in quiet and is entertained for his entire commute to work. Then when he gets to work he puts on his super cape and searches for hydrocarbons which he simply loves to do. Then, on the way home, he watches more movies or reads and happily sighs when he pulls into the train station here in town. Lumbergh can honestly say ‘Honey, I’m home!’ in this city and for him, I am ecstatic.
For me, I love London like I love velcro and for the record, I happen to find velcro to be the best invention ever when it comes to kids. London will never bore me and if it does, then that will be a reflection on me and not on this city because it implies I am dull and have nothing interesting to contribute to a conversation, (and for me, running out of words would be ghastly!!!). There is so much culture here and there are a plethora of things to do on each hour of every day, that at times it feels over whelming because you can’t possibly see it all. Plus, London has clotted cream and so by the power invested in elastic-waist pants, I will eat scones with cream and jam and I will drink earl grey tea and I will love it. If you see me sitting on the top floor of John Lewis in Sloane Square, or anywhere else, really, eating a scone and reading a book, don’t be shy and come say hi. I won’t offer to share my scone, but I will offer a seat. (Get your own scone, bitches! I swear I’m friendly, I just like them scones. True story).
So, that being said, Milan is done. Officially done. The neighbours below us must love the silence that our departure brings and hence the tittle of this entry, from Depeche Mode. The thought of our flat sitting empty and dark makes me so sad even if the neighbours must joyfully jump up and down like italian men at a concert who can’t see the act over the crowd in front of them. (I tease of course, and have no idea where this stereo-type comes from because in all our time there I didn’t really pick up that italian men are supposed to be shorter than average). Silly stereotypes. A city I never ever thought would be home to me has crept into the chambers of my heart and settled there. Milan brought an experience I realized a long time ago I needed and also now could never live without. There is nothing left for me to say but, thank you, Milan.
With this chapter being closed, it also means this blog has reached the end of the line. I never expected to get my ‘regular’ readers from literally all over the world and for this I curtsy before you all because you make me turn red in your flattering words about my writing. I will be documenting life in London (where I want to find italian people to be friends with) and you can read about our adventures here. The site still has some details that need to be ironed out, but alas, you can continue to follow us there in our sequel to Italy.
And so, with that, all I can say is, from experience, it is true, SO very true, that ‘when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie….that’s amore………..and when you walk in a dream
but you know, you’re not dreaming…..that’s amore’ too. Arrivederci Milano and arrivederci to the best 4.25 years, ever.