Only You

Here goes...

I love that film for so many reasons. I can just watch it over and over. It makes me think, and actually get up and go to Roma because that is the closest thing I can get to where Bobbie breathed and existed. (And next stop, obviously, is Positano.) Overall it is a lovely film, to me, anyway.

Was never a big follower of Italian food till only few years ago. Even when first watched this film (was back in 97, I think it was,) I never really had real Italian meals. (Look, spag bol is NOT Italian, and I pity the fool who has to chop up spaghetti before scooping it out with spoon.)

So when Faith and fake Damon talks about scampi, I had no idea what it was. Heard people talk about it, but had not really encountered to one, so wasn't sure if it was actually a dish, or ingredients. I picked up a dictionary, found out what it was, and wondered what the fuss about this particular kind of shrimp.

Then, when I finally had chance to go to Italy, I have decided to pick up a posh tab for the experience.

It was in a small town on the South coast of Italy, with some hills going up and down along the sea line. I climbed up to one of the hills, and got to the restaurant was told about by our guide.

It was a cold windy day of early summer, and the time was just at the restaurant opening time, I was the first one to arrive, alone. It was a beautiful place, looking down the Mediterranean ocean and deepening orange sunset, so I refused to sit by the window.

I didn't want to be in a way of couples who are after romantic scenery and lightings. I picked the least visible spot for myself, as I spent whole afternoon being blown in salty wind while waiting with a camera in my hands for waves to break against black volcanic rocks at the bay, wearing this light blue anorak. I was totally out of place.

I mean, all the waiters wore bow ties, and all other patrons wore dresses and suites. And I saw a wall of photos of past (and probably present) patrons, majority of which was of table full of enormous amount of food surroundings the great Luciano Pavarotti himself. Should have left then, but the quick check on menu did seem affordable enough to me, so I stayed.

So, anyway, that's how I had my first scampi. It was GOOD. It had to be good as I paid so much, and, obviously, it was fresh. The way that creature is built to make it so difficult for us to eat was just a teasing factor that scampi is one of the greatest things given to us by the nature.

I got back to the hotel and told friends how much I enjoyed my first scampi experience. She says,

"Oh, I love scampi, too. They are great, I always have them in pubs."

Didn't pay too much attention to it till she commented on that scampi has no shell and is very easy to eat, after I mentioned them long scissors.

"What do you mean? You never had them grilled?"

"You don't grill scampi, it's fried."

She said. I was slightly puzzled on the way this conversation was going. Scampi is ALWAYS fried? Is that like scampi only gets to be cooked in one way?

Soon, of course, I found out that there are people call this cooked shrimp product "scampi". For them scampi is this breaded and deep fried shrimp, but not the type of shrimp.

Soon, of course, I found out that practically everyone in UK is these people. I had the same talk over and over and over before convincing that in native Italy scampi is a type of shrimp and you can grill and stew and boil and saute it, if you wanted. (And I never heard of breaded scampi, as far as real Italian goes. But, this, probably is just my lack of knowledge.)

Since then, I had some more scampi including scampi and cram pasta, which was hell to eat and heaven to taste.

Look, there's so many more important things for us to learn in life, but it is true that scampi is a type of shripm. K?

aNew

I had to take a break from blogging.

Couldn't write anything because I couldn't / I shouldn't.

But had loads to write, like, how I went to see 6550 ducklings after the last entry.

Needed time for everything, had no time for anything,

didn't know where I was, yet I never gotton lost,

so much went wrong, yet not much has changed.

I think I am ready to back on writing sweet anything, bitter nothing.

Flipping Shoes

In recent article in papers, women in UK are said to be spending most of her money on shoes, and it is not unusual for women to own 100 pairs. I don't have that many pairs, but latelly I have been buying quite a few. It started off when I needed suits for my job interviews. I bought suits, then noticed that I needed tops to go with them, because all I had had some logos of, well, not so professional meanings.

Then I realised that I can never work in my boots, which have a hole anyway, or my skechers. So I began buying shoes.

When I mention shopping that is eBaying, as all my mates know. (Yeah, my life in Dundalk used to be scheduled around cable TV and eBay...) I am hooked on eBay, and I used to have an established business via eBay. I cannot even imagine doing clothes shopping outside of it!

Anyway. The only, and obvious problem with buying shoes off eBay is that you can't try the pair on first. And shoes are very tricky things to buy even when you try them on off-line.

I think that many women buy so many shoes because shoes are just too darn hard to buy. They fit, in so many different ways, like,

"They fit but are slightly tight in width."

"They fit but are too hard on sole, can't run in them."

"They are comfy, but they are not my size."

"They are perfect fit but SO unfashionable."

And I am usually like,

"Have one or two pairs fit well and go well with everything as long as I am with people who know me well."

But this time I really need to be picky. The pair need to be comfy and smart and durable. 

And every pair comes from eBay is NOT fitting. So I have to re-sell them. This is as though I am flipping properties.

They probably would fit with sock adjustment, but they are not kind of shoes I can wear socks. What a hair-pulling nuisance this is. This buy-sell-buy-sell cycle needs to go on for a long time...

Shoe shopping is SO doomed. Why women do this if not for finding a good pair?

The Great Escape

Why am I writing about mice for days, with all the tiny, boring details? It's about my new job. It just came back to me when I got a job in aviation/logistics. Those mice had very unique story attached to their tails through years.

I was reading my "booklet to the new employees" and clearly they insist on the safety in there many a times. My job will be dealing with a lot of inter-continental regulations and stuff, and it just came to me how I had this experience with my mice.

One year, I was visiting my family, and I couldn't find anybody who would look after my mice. So, I decided to smuggle them on board, in several cigarette boxes.

Yeah, I know, it's outrageous, and I was not happy doing that, but I really had no choice.

All went well, I passed the gate and went into a lady's room and safely put them back into the cage. The cage then went into a flat bottomed carrier bag.

It was all fine, till half way through the flight, till I decided to check in on them. They were happily munching the grains, so I put the lid down and hid the cage well under my seat.

15 min later, I hear a tiny scream coming from the person sitting in front of me. Then there were rush of air-hostesses running about, holding up a paper bag, apologising and hushing and muttering. Somehow, I knew what is was ALL about, but I did look down into my bag anyway. Yes, there was only one mouse, and, yes, the lid was half open. I didn't push it enough till it clicked.

I stood up, and went up to the air-hostess with a paper bag, and asked her if I could see inside.
"Oh, ma'am, it really isn't something for your eyes."

"Well, I really think it is. OK, please just tell me what it is you are holding."

She then tells me it is a mouse, and so I went on telling a total none-sense on how that mouse is NOT mine but is very important to me so I want it back.

She was so freaked out, she was so determined to kill it right away. I begged and apologised and kept telling all these lies. I did that because I had no intension of coming clean about the other mouse.

Anyway, turned out it was actually OK to import mice without checking them first. (I was told so then anyway.) So, I didn't risk anyone's health.

I am SO not proud of what I did, but I am more against of disposing animals for your convenience. I thought about the danger of doing it, and after some studying I came up with the conclusion that it's probably OK. (And to be precise, I couldn't find a info on how to do it legally.) I won't do it again, though.

So, back to the point. My pets are cheap. That's why I usually get my dogs from shelters, and buy mice on sale.

More Travelling

Now, I am not sure, still, if that's super cheap, but ever since I saw the sign, all I could think was mice. I wanted to have a dog, but I was living in a student hall and it was not allowed. It had to be small, and have to be remotely like dogs if I get anything. And I really wanted to have a pet. Mice are mammals, and they are SO small. I am sure I can manage to control the smell by keeping them clean. The only thing is to make sure I get same sex pairs.

So, I went in, and bought myself a pair of male mice and a small cage and the water feeder.

I then went to the Royal Naval College, served my purpose of the entire trip. I am not sure how I ditched my stuff, but I recall not having the stuff till later that day.

I then went to the Kew Garden, WITH my mice, and a restaurant in China Town, WITH mice. I remember getting lost in the Kew, and had to hide my mice and other stuff in a gardenia bush or similar so I can wonder off to find the places. So I must had all the bags with me then. I remember worrying about smell and noise when I put mice on the table when I ordered a ball of noodle. I think the reason I had to put mice on the table, in a thick white plastic carrier bag, was that I was carrying all the bottles and books in the pack. I remember walking in absolute agony, with mice cage dangling from my hand, and told myself,
"Never again."

Anyway. All I am trying to say was that this trip was VERY physical one. And it was a very emotional experience for me because I got myself little additions, and finally making it to the Royal Naval College, after years of dreaming to stand in between those columns.

Meet the Pet

I knew nothing of Calais, but just assumed that it is a touristy place where everyone goes for SEEING thing. (I now know, obviously, that it's the place for shopping in bulks.)

So, when I reached Calais, after not so much sleeping for about 24 hrs, I was completely lost. Calais had nothing visibly interesting. Besides, I was on the edge of collapsing after the long bus ride.

Then I decided to go further to Paris, which did cost a bit but, well, wouldn't be a total waste.

Had fab time in Paris. I remember it as a quiet holiday, as I didn't really speak to anyone, apart from the hotel people, for the entire time I was there. I regretted not having been successful in my Spanish Class, Parisian seemed to less hate Spanish speakers, compare to English speakers.

I remember taking a nap in Muse D'Orsey,  after completely satisfied looking at Lautrecs. I remember trying to have a fancy dinner and all I could afford was a pizza at an Italian restaurant. I remember McDonald's coffee was SO good. A can of coke did cost 1.5 quid, which nearly shocked me to death.

When I got back on board on P&Q, heading back to Dover, it was the time for my shopping. I was into vodka at that time, and was asked by my gay Finish neighbour to get him a bottle of Finlandia so we can share it one night. So, my back-pack-like-pack was immediately filled with that and some other bottles, which eventually weighed about 30kg.

I got back to Victoria with art books and booze on my back, and bought a train ticket to Greenwich. It was 4pm or 5pm when I reached there.

Basically, I was sent back to London by kind stranger who found me wondering, looking for a B&B. They said it's not safe and there's no chance I'd find one. (And I was pretty sure that I knocked one of K.K.K. buildings when I was looking for a hotel.) Somehow, I was wondering about in Greenwich for 6 hrs without finding anything.

Next day, I went back (more money!) and the first thing I did was to find a pet shop I saw the day before. It was a HUGE pet store with a sign on the window;
"SALE! 1 mouse 99p"

Pet

My idea of pet is "CHEAP", that is all. The theory behind it is that you'll grow to love it anyway, so why should you spend tons of money to get expensively inbred pedigrees.

That's how I ended up travelling with two mice when I was doing Paris-Greenwich-Wales tour. It must be 7 years ago or something. I had several missions in that trip;

1. Go to France. It doesn't matter what I would achieve there, just going to France was the mission.
2. Get as much duty free stuff as I can, as I am NOT walking.
3. Go and find the Royal Naval College.

I was bored. It was Summer Vacation time and I had no friend around, had nothing to do. Everyone was going everywhere and I felt like I should. As far as my status was concerned, I was only there to take short trip to Europe for extended time for a very short while, and it seemed like a waste if I didn't go anywhere.

The thing is, I didn't have much money. I could do coach trips with duty free shopping, but not flying away. We didn't have Ryan-bloody-air back them, if my memory serves correctly.

So, I took a coach from Wales to Victoria, then to Dover, then to Calais via a P&Q ferry.