Gay is the New Straight

joancusack

I was watching a great Ted talk given by a terribly bright, terribly funny gay man who designs book covers. First he was talking about one author, then another, both of whom are also gay. And I suddenly felt like Joan Cusack in that scene from the classic 1997 comedy In & Out — when she’s still in her wedding dress, having been dumped at the altar by Kevin Kline (who in the nick of time realises he’s gay) — and so Joan Cusack goes to a bar, still in her damn white dress and a bit tipsy (and very horny), and she hits on Tom Selleck who informs her he’s gay as well. She then runs out of the bar and screams: “IS EVERYBODY GAY? AM I IN THE TWILIGHT ZONE! I NEED A HETEROSEXUAL CODE RED!”

Here she is, Joan Cusack, in one of the funniest performances ever EVER EVER:

Anyway, that’s kinda how I’m feeling right now.

 

 

IN DEFENCE OF ENGLAND

IN DEFENCE OF ENGLAND. SPELLEDT WITH A C.

People have— Ok, let’s be honest — I had, the most difficulty parting with Italy on the basis of two things:

1. Food
2. Weather

The food is goddamn good, ok. Period. No need to go on about that. Pretty obvious about the weather as well.

The thing is, England is known for two negative things:

1. Food
2. Weather

So, situation is effed up.

But now I come to her defense — I mean, defenCe. Oh, Mother England. See video below and please defend her as well in your comments!!!!

And take the poll. Winners will be announced shortly.

I guess it’s official. We’ve moved to England.

They really ARE white.

They really ARE white.

Yep, that’s what we could see from the ferry. The white cliffs of Dover. Through the raindrops. Through our exhaustion. Through our misgivings. The white cliffs of Dover.

We decided to move out of Italy last January. Trying to run a small business in Italy is … well, comical. Between the taxes and bureaucracy, — surprise surprise! —  there’s a huge black market.

I remember when I first opened a regular old bank account 10 years ago in Rome when I still felt romantic about immigrating to the county of my forefathers. Eugenio, the very pleasant bank manager, gave me some documents to sign in two places. I did and then I started to put my pen away.  “Non abbiamo finito,” he said. We’re not finished. I’m sure I smiled. Then he gave me another set of documents, six signatures I think. Then he gave me some more documents. Then more. More. More. At some point I looked at him and asked if there was a hidden camera somewhere and if this was a joke. He chuckled and said, “Welcome to Italy.”

Welcome to Italy, my culo. My ass.

More to come.

Terianne