Remind me never, again, to complain about menu options on phone services. Just imagine accessing and using the menu in Italian. And, of course, getting each task menu to switch to English means making the request using the Italian menu. A vicious cycle! With an extended hit and miss process I have successfully gotten the TIM (one of the phone services here that I use) “balance check” to come up in English. I, now, know how much time I have left and I am able to make phone calls. It seems Text messaging is preferred. I have just sent my first trial Text to York. (I know I am behind the times. Give me a break. I just got a cell phone a month ago.) While I wait on the verdict from York, I will try setting up my voicemail. Saints preserve me from technology!
Too much food. Too much rich food. Too much dessert. I slept in this morning. This is easy to do as the windows have solid hinged-covers so I can block out all light. In addition there is no thumping music from other apartments nor any car noise or motor scooter noise; as I have mentioned I am in the Area Pedonale. However, even in the areas where traffic is allowed, I have noticed that there is never any honking and despite the masses of j-walking tourists, with their noses in a map, I haven’t noticed one incident of noticeable impatience by way of screaming or gesturing from the drivers.
This is tending to be a less prosaic blog entry than those proceeding, isn’t it?
So, continuing in that vain, may I mention that I am shocked that in this ancient building I haven’t noticed one bug, of any sort. I am not complaining; this makes me very happy. Perhaps the water has killed them. And on that note, I was curious so I “Cerca con Google (to be discussed shortly).” Anyway, searching came up with an abstract entitled “The Mutinagentic Effects of Ozonation and Chlorination of Florentine Water.” I couldn’t even get an abstract version, without paying, so I have just left the title to my imagination (a dangerous prospect). However, remember when I said the water smelled something like “let’s sterilize a little before we put the bolts in his head” and went on to call it “Frankenstein Water.” Well, remember in the movie when the good Dr. Frank asked his half-crazed assistant to crank the head-bolted assemblage of body parts up higher in the tower so they could catch the lightening? All this, so we could have that memorable line “It’s alive! IT’S ALIVE! Ozonation is just that. Lightening and water, in a less than literal way. And when you subject water to ozonation you get that foul smell. Add to that, the admitted (another article on Florentine water), high levels of chlorine, you get “Frankenstein Water.” Indeed, what the "Mutinagenic Effects..." probably hypothesizes is that, if you dare to drink the water, you may actually GROW bolts out of your neck.
Now to “Cerca con Google.” It is like an insidious weed creeping into my computer. Every time I turn around another service decides to switch me to Italian language services. Google was the first. And I am weathering that fairly well. But last night when I was about to post the blog for the night, the Blogger Home Page popped up in Italian requesting information before I could sign into the site. And today started the deluge of ads popping up: “Want to WORK in the USA? Click to join the Official American Green Card Program, Today,” or the brightly colored WARNING: Do you want to miss your chance to LIVE and WORK in the USA.” And I thought the endless SPAM of “Colon Cure” or “Viagra Vitality” e-mails and ads were irritating.
Ok, what else can I k-vetch about?
Speaking of the Internet. My glee for having DSL here was compounded when I found the price they charge at all the Internet stations around the city. One Euro for five minutes; $2.50 Euro for an hour. And I get free, unlimited, access.
Oblique segue coming up.
My bed! Initially I thought it was going to be a problem. It is only 12 inches off the ground and with no box springs. But it is SO comfortable. And it has a feather comforter. How such a light thing can keep me so toasty is a marvel. I have been using cotton comforters (sometimes three) in the drafty California winters (those of you in Gowanda will hate me for that remark). Those cotton comforters are as heavy as a marble crypt stone. Well, when I get back home, it will only be feathers for me. No remarks, please.
Pictures for tonight will be as odd as my conversation: Construction barrier near Uffizi, window in the Pza. della Repubblica, another barrier, yet another barrier and torn wall posters.
Arrivederci!
