Life in Italy

With all the bubble-gum peachy posts we've been doing of late, I became concerned that you guys might think life in Italy was perfect. Its not.

The struggles of day-to-day life here can really wear you down after a while. Lest you think its all exotic trips and world-class living, I thought I'd run down a few of the things that make my life here a, well, pain in the neck.

First, let me introduce you to our hot water heater (or, as I like to refer to it, "the bane of my existence.") Given the choice of living til 80 or taking a sledgehammer to this piece of crap without ramification, I'd gladly choose the later. Words just can't express the hatred I feel for this device. On average, I'd say I have to light the pilot light on this piece of trash at least 5 times daily. There's nothing quite like having to get out of the shower, throw on a towel, and walk outside to relight this tin can. Negotiations with the landlord for its replacement/repair are ongoing, and this is no small task. Let me emphasize here that as a lawyer, I have at least a degree of expertise when it comes to negotiations, yet after 10 months, I've made very little traction with this issue. But stay tuned...

This little gem is our breaker box. The little breaker on the left is the closest rival of the hot water heater above. Again, our appliances/air conditioners/dryer/washing machine/microwave flip this bad boy all the time. To reset it only 3 times in a day is a good day; to not have it go off in the middle of the night (thereby killing power to my alarm clock and causing me to oversleep) is nothing less than a dream.


Next we have my modem. [And yes, that is a vintage Lionel Richie LP laying beside it, as a matter of fact. You got a problem with that?] The modem itself is fully functional, but its the only tangible connection I have to my internet connection which (big surprise) mysteriously cuts on and off no less than 10 times a day.) If it weren't my gateway to internety-goodness, I'd have flung it against the wall months ago.


Say hello to our stove. It works fine, I suppose, other than that weird door to nothing that pops open for no reason at the bottom (and often refuses to shut, thereby creating an attractive nuisance and burn-trauma magnet for my infant daughter). Oh, and did I mention that the stove only lights by way of sticking a lighter to the open gas valve (circa 1956)? Oops, must have forgotten that part.


Here's a quick peak at one of our 4 wall-unit air conditioners (yeah, no central heating in Italy gang). They added these based on my contract negotiations prior to moving in. Before we arrived, there were NO air conditioners in the house. In addition to constantly stopping when the power trips, it beeps really loud and wakes up Ella when you try to adjust the temperature. Oh, and despite having just installed it, it ran out of freon before we even got a chance to use it when summer began.

This is our washer dryer combo. One word: tiny. Oh, and the washer is actually a replacement (the Navy actually provides us with some appliances, even though we live out on the economy). Rather than clean our clothes, the first one made everything turn sour (which is always a big hit at work, let me tell you).



Here's our Navy-issue microwave. Notice anything missing? You see the little time dial on the bottom right? Gone. We use the claw end of the hammer sitting on top of the microwave to turn the knob, then just wait what we believe to be a reasonable amount of time with all our food. Classy.




Hey everyone, say hello to our good friend house mold! Oh yeah baby. Can't get rid of it. Cleaned it with everything under the sun, including Clorox, but it just keeps coming back. Breathe deep, guests!








Remember my car? Apparently someone in the city nearest me really needed a hubcap. I was parked for 5 minutes at a local supermarcato, only to return to find it gone. Neapolitans will steal anything not tied down.






Last but not least, here's where my rent ($2350 a month) goes: my landlord's son's super-tricked-out Ducati. "Nah, don't worry about my hot water - Ella doesn't really need a bath today. Tell me more about your bike!"


Okay, I'm done. I promise to devote a nice long future blog to all the incredible benefits of where I live, but for now I'm just gonna continue to wallow in my own self-pity. You guys enjoy your Chick-Fil-A and Chili's chips and salsa; I'm gonna go take a nice, long cold shower.


pac