Monday, August 31, 2009

Call me Martha

I had a brief experience with house arrest last night, so that's one thing I guess I can check off my life's to-do list.

I'm going to keep this blog post really brief because I am sleep deprived out of my MIND. But tomorrow, I promise to recount everything that has happened this eventful week. It is 12:22 AM and I don't think I've received more than 5 hours of sleep on any of the past nights. And I have to wake up at 7 tomorrow. FML. Although considering the fact that my two biggest problems in life right now are that 1) I've been having too good a time (save yesterday) calling late nights and 2) a zit has left a mark in between my eyebrows so I feel like I have a tattooed bindi on, I guess I can't complain too much.

So before I go to bed, I leave you with this story. Last night, after Skyping with Mama and Papa Patel and enjoying me un bicchiere di vino bianco at the wine place literally across the street from me, I was ready to blog and call it a night around 1. My roommate Sophie gets a call from her friend who is outside at the Irish pub also across from us and goes down to meet her. After 10 minutes or so, I get a call from Sophie asking me to open the door because her key doesn't work. Thinking that's kind of weird, but no problem , I get up to answer the door. No go. After 35 minutes of futile attempts at turning our keys, we had to call the emergency NYU number.

Being NYU, they were of course extremely helpful...yeah fucking right. No, NYU sends over a PA (an Indian girl I know) which is basically an RA, aka a junior student just like us. After another 45 minutes of the same shit, they send over an RHM, an older staff member who is just as useless. We waste 2 hours trying to open the door. The RHM continues to think that I'm withholding crucial information about the door or that I'm some sort of neanderthal that doesn't know how to operate a fucking lock. Look lady, I know how to turn a key, alright? And even though it is so fun to sit here and waste my time, I swear, I'm not lying to you about what's on the other side of the door just so we can hang out like this.

Keep in mind, the door is unopenable from either side--that means Sophie can't get in, but me, Jenny and Shelly (my suitemates) also can't get out. And it's the Sunday before the first day of school. Was I inspired to write an R&B saga about it? Perhaps.

We're told that there is nothing that can be done, that "this is Italy and no one will come help right now." Fuck. That. So Sophie is whisked away to campus, which is so out of the way, and we are told that someone from maintenance will come at 7 am. Shelly has to be out of the apartment by 8 am for class--things are not looking promising. Anyway, the results? Maintenance man Marco comes at like 830, somehow opens the door but tells us that yes, it is messed and needs to be fixed, but who knows when that will happen. Shelly and Jenny both miss their first classes, but are excused because of the circumstances. Then Sophie returns to our apartment in the morning and is forced to pay for her own cab ride back from campus even though she has no wallet. Had we been able to just call Marco at 1 am last night when this all happened, this fiasco could have been just a fiascino. I hate NYU sometimes.

Anyway, here are some pictures from Saturday. Firenze is still amazing, even if NYU is stupid sometimes.

La mia cona con gelato di crema


At a cafe in La Piazza di Santa Croce


On of my favorite buildings on my street with a once completely painted facade


Wandering around my neighborhood


A domani!
Nami

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2 comments:

  1. Nami,
    Your posts are hilarious. I will tune in when I need a does of Italy and your hilarious take on it. My feet are itching and maybe your blog will soothe them, albeit it's only vicarious.
    Take care, and eat some gelatto for me!
    Jenny

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  2. Oh my gelato.

    When will they phase out keys and embrace the new way, by which i mean telekinesis? Italy's so old school.

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