The ORGANIC CAPPUCCINO SOUP

This morning, with much disappointment, I found my favorite café fully packed with the Friday-work-at-home-like-me crowd spilling a not so special cappuccino on their laptops and spreading their iPhone in grease.

I was late and missed my chance, fair enough, so I went in search for an alternative one. I remembered a place I noticed not long ago and decided to try. The big board outside announcing ‘children’s parties organised here’ should have warned me but I ignored and crossed the door. Really foolish, considering that this very morning I left the flat after having read the last rant of my friend NorfolkMong expressing his opinion (and mine) on the matter of ‘children’s parties & parents’ http://norfolkmong.blogspot.com/.

What a hell of place was that? Even tables and chairs are handmade and baked in an organic oven. All looked like a pinkish fairy cake. Hey don’ t take me wrong, your children are safe, all good stuff, all organic DOC with “natural” sugar and “natural” color. I wonder where they got all those natural shits….

Again the café was fully packed but this time with the fully-baby-accessorised-don’t-need-to-work mums competing for the biggest&most expensive buggy and the highest number of kids. Why not? They can afford it! All dressed the same in baggy colorless cloths certainly organic and certainly expensive. The kind of mums looking at you with pity as they think you are childless if you are there without a kid. In ten fifteen years and four size up for having eating all those fairy organic cakes, they will all file for some trendy jewelry or handmade jam course.

I ordered a cappuccino and tried to concentrate on my newspaper. Hard work when the kid behind you is screaming in your hear, the one in front is puking his breakfast on the table, one is throwing his dummy, the other is burping and another is pooing an organic all natural smelly poo. I was starting to regret the choice and really missing my French café with its smell of rancid fried butter coming from the back kitchen....

Then a man dressed like a farmer served my cappuccino. What’s that? Do they have a cow in the back garden? I looked in disbelieved and wondered if asking for a big spoon, a soup-spoon in fact. From the top could even be ok-ish but look at the side of the bowl: ORGANIC, YEAH?! Did the fake-farmer really think I am a fool and I am going to drink that broth just because this is the new trend?

Run run as fast as you can

if I catch you

you are a dead man!

Why I do not watch television-and I do not have a TV set

I never watched much of it and having left my tv set behind really makes me feel well. More time for myself, less time for overpaid morons. Because sooner or later, one night or another, after a killing work-day, even when you don’t want to, you’ll end up slump in your sofa, remote control in hands, just too tired to react, eating up all the shit is coming through and even spending time to comment it. No thanks. If I really want, I can watch my matches on-line. And again is that worth my time? Look tonight. I tuned my laptop to Italy-Paraguay with a Charlie&Lola soundtrack, at least I didn’t have to hear all the bullshits that certain journalists say. Never enjoyed so much a football match. The only bore is having to explain now and then why I really dont miss it.

Mind The Terminology

I decided that I don’t WANT an iPhone, I NEED an iPhone. So the other day I checked on line how to UPGRADE my contract with Vodafone, sure enough they don’t NEED my money, they WANT my money. Only to find out that, surprise surprise, I cannot do the UPGRADE. What??? They don’t WANT my money??? Does that mean I am bound for the next TWO YEARS to my old shitty scratchy tiny mobile that now looks like a useless piece of plastic not so different from the one my daughter is playing with? I can’ t believe this. This is what happens when you sign a contract without never ever reading the ‘Term & Condition” applied.
Wilma Spud is like the weeds, hard to die. So today I called into a Vodafone shop. At the request UPGRADE the lady behind the counter gently confirmed my worst fears. No UPGRADE, I am afraid. The hoping expression on my face must have turned into panic and despair at the fading thought of a shiny iPhone, as the lady added that of course I could BUY an iPhone (this is a relieve, they indeed WANT my money) and just transfer my SIM card across and then just BUY the network etc… etc… COOL. Didn’t I NEED an iPhone?

A quarter past one and still up

I was thinking how quickly my life has changed in the past few months. From being the only person on earth not knowing what an iPod, an iPhone and iPad were, I am now getting sucked in by a twitting-blogging-mania and I love it!
No more parenthesis, Wilma goes to sleep.

Of Deadlines

It is past midnight, I am straggling to keep my eyes open, but I have to fill as much as possible of this damn job application, because as usual I left it for the very last minute. At least this time the deadline, in about 24 hours, is on British time. Right. Once I have been tricked by the continental time and missed the deadline by 1 tragicomic hour. It was an European Community Grant and I got distracted by the smell of moules&frits of Bruxelles .... My boss didn't like it. Reminding him I am Italian didn't help either! (Once I missed a train for one tragicomic hour, but that is another story and I got confused with the winter and the summer time... hopeless, I know)
I hate deadlines and on-line applications and I hate the winter time when the watches go wild .... soon it will be morning again.

Done

It couldnt be more simple! Who said I was an IT-hopeless-case? 

Now I need a good dictionary and it is done.

Have to get ready now, got planned exciting trip to South West London, might make a detour to Karmarama on my way back. I smell already the coffee.....