An email to Sheri: I need to learn to cuss in Italian.

Dear Sheri, I only get on line every once and a while and then I have to choose: banking, facebook, my blog, read yahoo mail. If I KNEW I'd be in Italy this long, I would have bought a broadband stick for here, but every week we think THIS is the week we will leave, but then we check on the dredging and still, we wait. When we leave we head to Ithaca!!!! and then go thru the Corinth Canal!!! YESTERDAY I borrowed the Marina bike and 2 miles from HERE is a archeology dig!!!! 380 meters of a Roman road in great condition and Greek and Roman ruins. The Museum only 1/2 mile has 600BC metal plaque for an athlete from Sibari winning the Olympics. In 600 BC! Are you kidding me! OMG. They (Italian's) are like, "oh, look what we found in our back yard, (yawn) but it's ours. ours." it is mind boggling.


My Italian is terrible. One day I announced Bon Jovi instead of Buongiorno (good day) then I constantly say Prada instead of Prego (your welcome/please). So I'm walking around saying "American rock star and Italian eye and shoe wear" instead of anything THEY can understand.

Worse yet, yesterday, I let a business man, who looks like a cross between Mr. Wiffle and Rush Limbal, and lives at the Marina (a gated community) give me a ride (in his Mercedes) in his fine business suit and pin from the Masons on his lapel, to the Internet cafe (1 mile). I had met him before when he pulled off the highway and asked me to coffee on my 20 mile bike ride. This time, I thought, "just a shore ride, I don't want to hurt his feelings." I did not know what he was saying. I asked him what he did and he's either in healthcare, hospital or hospitality. I was saying "excuse me, I don't understand, thank you, thank you" in my bad Italian, until he (while driving) reached over and grabbed my right boob. HOLY CRAPPO. I yelled "no" and go for the international "I'm going to jump out of the car" gesture, wondering if my lap top would break my fall and he slowed down, continued to chatter on and kept his hand on my knee for another 2 blocks when I spilled out of the car at the cafe, bag, water all tumbling out. With talk around the Marina that the Italian Mafia owns the complex, I'm seriously afraid of pissing anyone off so I just rushed away saying "excussee, no, no gracie, no" and ducked into my internet cafe/hotel. I feel so stupid. Dirty Old Man.

I think I'll stick to walking and I need to learn to cuss in Italian. Love, Edee