Some Christmas tales: ode to the people I know and I like.
And, by the way, I realized I might have a slightly alcohol problem.

I say something. But I don't believe anymore. Was it 'family' ?

Last days in Italy of a long week.

Out with my friends from a very old time (10 years ago) from my high school. Barbara, who once was a dark scary cure fan and now she's a white not scary anymore cute girl, Fabio, a guy with a respectable presence but deep down inside a party animal, and Jumba, my short and dark friend who visited me already three times this year. We had a great evening (ended at the Texas, obviously) and they all won an invitation to visit me in London.
I invite always everyone while I'm in Italy, anyway 75% of them won't bother. Cheap way to be nice.

The next day I met the eldest member of my family (the auntie of my dad... is she my auntie as well?). 88 years old, widow since the 70's, and she still lives alone. I met her only once, when I was a kid (don't remember her) and when my grandma died (same as before). She had some problems remembering me as well, since the contacts with my dad were as rare as the ones with me.

You can always understand how old is the person in front of you by watching his/her surroundings. There is always something wrong for this era. In this case a map of the world in the kitchen, showing Germany as two different countries, Yugoslavia as a one and this huge country as big as half of the world called URSS (CCCP). Great stuff.

But she's still independent. And I really admire that.

I met Paolo again, like I've been doing all the years since 2001. Happy with his wife to be Very and his three sons. He doesn't drink, and I shouldn't trust him, but because I've always thought he was a bit too gay to be a proper metro sexual, just to understand later that it was just part of his plan to score with the girls, I respect him.
And he called his son Olaf, so how can I not trust him? (in fact I trust him almost more than anyone else)

And that was it. I said goodbye to friends and what is left of my family and boarded the plane in another Ryanair nightmare (flight delayed, baggage lost, bus missing).

Shit happened while I was away but I guess it was part of the plan that the Guy with the white beard (old, good looking, looks a bit like Santa Claus but he never gives away gifts) had reserved for me this year.

Maybe I should add some consideration about my weird 2005. But I'll wait until next week. 2006 is approaching. Fucking Finally.

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