Week Eight

Was the difficult struggle of last week a bad omen of budgetary catastrophes to come? Or will our heroine triumph against the odds and stay within her fifty euro limit in a country where a litre of milk is €1.72? Read on to find out.

Saturday 1st March

I wake up, it's Saturday. I breathe a huge sigh of relief. Why? Because Saturday is my one day where I am not allowed to feel guilty for not studying. Which makes a change from the other six days of the week where I do sweet FA and am racked with guilt about it. And yet somehow not feeling guilty enough to actually do something about it. I luxuriate around the house all day, doing those menial tasks that I enjoy so much, windows and balcony doors open, the smell of gorgeous fabric conditioner wafting through the apartment and the sun splitting the rocks outside. Bliss.

Sunday 2nd March

Wake up and it is SWELTERING in the house. Throw open all doors and windows and have a speed shower and head out to the villa to lounge around in the grass all day. It's 26 degrees outside and all is well with the world. I take 2 buses to get to the other side of the city where the villa is. I FINALLY get there, after enduring some old guy rubbing his crotch against my ass the ENTIRE way on the bus, and ring the buzzer on the huge gates. Nobody answers. I have no credit on my phone and no change to use a phone box. What to do, what to do? I walk around the side of the villa to assess fence-scaling possibilities. Clearly it is an impossible task but I say to myself "yeah - TOTALLY doable". And just to ensure that I dont give up under any circumstances, I throw my handbag over the fence. About a year later it hits the ground on the other side. Interesting. I then start scaling up this metal pole like a monkey up a coconut tree (naturally the monkey I speak of has only one leg, gets whoozy in heights and is most probably epileptic), and grab onto the wire of the fence, which then droops all the way back onto the ground, with me clinging onto it like a newborn infant to a teat. This is in full view of passing cars on the main road which take the opportunity to beep enthusiastically, thus urging me forth. I take a second go at it and succeed this time, but not without my top getting caught in the wire and going halfway up my back, giving all main road users a tantalising peek at my curvaceous bod and sweet lady lumps. Fuck it sure - it's good to give back to the community. Jump down on the other side and victoriously walk up the ten mile drive, feeling a definite breeze on my belly. I look down, and lo - there is a hole in the front of my top. Great. Lay out on the grass with my Ashanti sistren doing my Pick Me Up codecracker (thanks Mark) and getting a tropical tan through my factor 25. By the end of the day I have reached epic levels of blackness - think a young Wesley Snipes. Head home after a gorgeous day and after my Flesh Tunnels fix, I go haboo without a care in the world.

Monday 3rd March

Another guilt-ridden week begins. I decide something has to be done about it and actually take out my Dante and make an impressive dent in it. Go me! Head into class, and for the entire two hours I think about all the lovely things Im going to do when I go home for Easter.

Head home for my fix of The L Word. Best. Episode. Ever. Even better than the Turkish oil wrestling one. And thats saying something. Send off some special cards to some special people and head to bed.

Tuesday 4th March

My, my, what an interesting day. While waiting for Bajan Empress this guy comes up to me looking to sell me tissues. Same shit, different day. Today however, I'm in no humour and I'm like, "Look, I have no money so good day to you sir" (paraphrasing) and he's all like "That doesnt mean you cant give me a euro". My hand tightens protectively around my last 2 euro coin in my pocket that I am saving to ring Flesh Tunnels on my way home this evening. "Actually, thats EXACTLY what it means". Blah blah blah some other banter and here your man sticks out his hand "Give me a euro". The fucking cheek. So then I stuck out my hand, "Give ME a euro". And then he says again "Just give me a euro." And then I say "Just give ME a euro", all crazy-like and he wishes me a nice day and walks off. Victory!

Later in class, Im sitting behind this guy that I have heard speaking English but have never met him. Halfway through the class he turns right around and STARES into my comprehensive notes (one random sentence at the top of a page) and is bending his head to read them. I lean forward "Dya want to sit in me lap?" He's all shocked and turns around. 2 seconds later he turns around and goes "Do you want to sit in MY lap" Im like "No, you're alright cheers" and then he turns around and says REALLY sarcastically "Nice to meet you" and gives me the back of his shaking head. Lovely. Empress and I burst out laughing and for the rest of the class sit there in disbelief. What just happened? At the end of the class he gets up to leave and I'm like "Cmere you young fella, I was only winding you up there's no need to be like that" He looks at me for a second and then it's like a switch goes off in his head and he holds out his hand to me "Im Rael it's nice to meet you" and proceeds to be the most charming and talkative man I have met since I got here. I'll take that.

I walk home, the 2 euro dancing in my pocket the entire way. The closer I got to the phonebox at the end of my street, the worse the butterflies got. By the time I reached the phonebox, I was practically foaming at the mouth. I stepped inside, my heart up in my mouth and lifted the receiver with a shaky hand. I dialled the number with trembling fingers and pushed the 2 euro coin through the slot. My heart rate rose with anticipation. I waited to hear the ring, but instead I heard the 2 euro ping into the change slot. I tried again, and again. And then 42 more agains. This cant be happening. The piece of shit phone wouldn't take my 2 euro. That I saved ALL DAY. Just for this phone call. Flashback to my stomach rumbling as I walked past a pizza place on the way home. I could have had a fucking pizza. The devastation was almost too much to bear. At that very minute all the adrenaline that had been building up inside me just disappeared and I walked home, wobbly and heartbroken.

Wednesday 5th March

I wake up and some strange notion seems to have come over me because I spend the day studying up a STORM. I got LOADS of really intense Dante done and my mind is a well of theological information. Amazing. This may or may not have something to do with the 6 apricot jam-filled croissants I may or may not have eaten in a gluttonous rampage.

Thursday 6th March

After a comparatively successful week I crumble. I just HAVE to have a cake for my dinner. I raid my bill money and head to Lidl, Roommate in tow. The closer we get to Lidl the more riled up I get. She droppped her purse on the way and stooped to pick it up and I was like "Im going ahead without you". She caught up with me and she said "We musn't talk to her when she wants her cake" hahahha. Got THE LAST ONE and headed home, triumphant. Ate half of it for my dinner and paused to enjoy it's digestion before the self-loathing kicked in.

Friday 7th March

A really good day today on the classes and general organisation front. I head into town and myself and the girls traipse around in search of elusive textbooks and getting important stuff photocopied. Sadly, though, I had to take out the nexts weeks 50 snots to pay for everything, which left a serious dent in next weeks money. Grrrrrr! Still, though it was worth it and I felt really good having got all the reading I needed for the exams. I head home and enjoy the other half of the cake in the comfort of my own bed. I hide the cake tray under the bed in case Landlady/Bitch-Faced Whore came in. Later on, I sneak into the kitchen and wash the knife and throw away the cake tray under cover of darkness. I catch myself and am ashamed. I berate myself for letting my chinois habit get this out of hand. I go to bed, simultaneously telling myself I wont do it again, and wondering will I have enough money for another one next week.

Week Seven

Struggled a bit this week, mostly due to suffering from some form of reverse anorexia and needing to eat every 2.7 nanoseconds, but otherwise,I did Eddie proud!

Saturday 23rd February

Went down to the postbox to check the post and lo! There was a card from my long lost sister Laura. At first I was like "whose writing is this?" because it has been so long since I heard from her and then I saw the address and I was delighted. Opened it up to find it was a Christmas card. Laughed my head off the whole way up the stairs. Just when I thought things couldn't get any better I opened the card to find a lovely crisp note in it. Woo hoo! Immediately I planned an underwear spree, much to Eddie's dismay, but I ignored his voice in my head saying "go to Michael Guiney's" as nary a sensible knickers will caress these cheeks, oh no. It's 15 snots a piece scanties for me Eddie - don't try and change me!

Dedicated my day to menial tasks (which are secretly my hobby) and was just pottering about in a great mood, enjoying the scent of my luxurious fabric softener and daydreaming about the upcoming underwear spree when I inadvertently did the most amazing thing I have ever done in my life. I am STILL in awe of myself. Roommate and I were in the kitchen chit-chatting when I (are you ready for this) MADE A JOKE IN POLISH. And not a joke that you learn off and that has a punchline, oh no! It was a PUN! A PUN! Ha! A pun on the Polish word for "approach" which can also mean "sexual intercourse".

I know. I'm awesome. I inspire awe.

Suddenly developed a strong urge to buy a giant cake and eat the entire thing. Went over to Lidl and bought a giant Chinois (inspires taste bud orgasms) and sat down and made a fine dent in it. I foolishly thought that if I just ate the thing then the craving would be gone. WRONG. Head to bed, confused by paradoxical yearnings to puke and eat more at the same time.

Sunday 24th February

Still basking in the afterglow of my scrumtrilescent pun-making abilities I headed into town to partake in an underwear-buying rampage. Went into EVERY underwear emporium in Bologna. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. It was all either total tack or really poor quality and not worthy of my silky derriere. Also, don't get me started on the bra situation. There are no cup sizes in Italy. All the bras just have back sizes. This is mostly due to the fact that nobody really has any boobs over here, which is probably why they're OBSESSED with them. I mean come on people! Spare a thought for the larger breasted lady! No wonder all the women in the gym showers have all horrible saggy breasticles - they had to have been wearing bras that look like they were made for 12 year olds all their lives!

Head home totally heartbroken, but on my way I spy this underwear shop with all gorgeous things in the window in all my favourite colours and I get all excited! It's closed because it's a Sunday but I vow to go back the next day. Went home filled with hope. And ate the other half of the cake.

Monday 25th February

Woke up bright-eyed and bushy tailed looking forward to revamping my underwear drawer when Landlady/Bitch-Faced Whore calls me into the kitchen to go over how much the bills come to between us all. And yes, you've guessed it - it was the EXACT amount I had allocated to the underwear splurge. I hand over my lovely crispy note with a lump in my throat, and get a flash-forward to me sitting in a darkened room, sewing flour sacks together to make new knickers.

Mope for the rest of the day, watch The L Word, then Secretary and snuggle up and dream about all the lovely scunders I could be lounging around in now. I'm picturing a lovely little vest and knickers combo. Damn you cruel fate! Why must you deprive me of knickers!


Tuesday 26th February

Got the Waterford People in the post. This is a new Waterford paper that has come out since I left, which is trying to pretend that life is actually going on without me in Waterford City. I know, the very idea. It's embarrassing, really. Anyway I must have become used to being constantly surrounded by absolutely gorgeous people all the time over here, cos when I looked through it
I couldn't BELIEVE some of the hideous mugs lurking between the pages. Eventually I had to stop looking as my eyes were watering. With tears of laughter at the displays of facial ineptness, like. I think I'm bad, but that paper gave me new hope for the future. There really IS someone worse off than you!

There were a few nice crisp notes in with the paper and hope was restored for the underwear spree! Yessssssssssssssss!

Wednesday 27th February

Went to a lecture (I know, how unlike me) then went out for aperitivi afterwards with the girls and Fran's boyfriend David had just flown in. For the second time that month. Especially to see her. Yes hello I'd like one of those please. Had a glass of wine and then moved on to this gorgeous bar where we had Rossinis and Bellinis and Daiquiris. Absolutley gorgeous. Oral ecstacy! Needless to day, I was in the HORRORS. We finished up reasonably early to allow those two crazy kids to go home and combobulate and I meandered home in a drunken/lonely/yearning so badly for a cuddle I would probably snuggle a tramp with a bladder problem stupor. Got home, opened the fridge and ate an entire packet of sliced cheese. Style and panach people! Style and panache.

Thursday 28th February

Woke up all excited about all the lovely underwear I was going to buy. Hopped into the shower full of the joys of Spring. Got out of the shower to be confronted by a bill that was the EXACT amount of my lovely crispy notes. Twice the heartbreak this time. I feel like there's someone up there who wants to see me bare arsed. Its not fair!

I dont fret about it too long though and I head out to the Villa for dinner, as one of the girls is leaving and she wants to make me a thank you dinner. To thank me for being so charismatic, funny, charming, and generally all-round wonderful. She doesn't say this but I just assume. Obviously. It's Burritos and it's a cream dream! Most gorgeous dinner I've had in AGES! Absolutely fabulous. Head home with a full belly and a happy heart.

On the way home a strong wind blows me in the door of Lidl and I accidentally buy another Chinois. Sit up late in the kitchen making love to it. What? It's a completely normal thing to do, right? RIGHT?

Friday 29th February

Go to this cool Italian history class and afterwards get an ice cream. Best ice cream I've had so far in Italy. I got a little pot with three flavours in it, one white chocolate with nutella, one hazelnut, and one nutella flavoured with malteaser-like yokes in it. There are no words. There really arent. Yum Yum pigs bum doesnt even BEGIN to cover it.

Head home and eat the other half of the chinois for my dinner. What is happening to me? I'm constantly STARVING, even 5 minutes after I last ate. And Im not hungry for dinners, I just want a cake. And not just ANY cake, but that specific Chinois. I wonder if this is a sign of an underlying desire for something else. Am I trying to substitute the cake for something? Then I realise that a cake is no substitute for knickers (seriously, don't try it at home kids) but even more so it's not going to magically sprout two big arms and a hairy chest and play with my hair while I'm watching the telly (although I live in hope). I have a stern word with myself to end this twisted relationship with the cake, and snuggle up in me little leaba. I am TOTALLY buying another cake tomorrow.

All in all a good week. I stayed within the fifty euro budget but only because I had that extra money to pay those bills. Im actually relieved I didnt spend anything on the Sunday as then I would have been screwed for the bills. Every week I try to put a tenner aside for the bills, which means Im actually living off 40 snots. But inevitably I run out of cash and starvation makes me spend the tenner. On cakes. Oh lordy. Eddie, give me strength!

Week Six

Saturday 16th February

Took out a fresh fifty from the bank machine and did the shopping. Only spent fifteen snots, I'm getting good at this! The spirit of Eddie is thriving deep inside me. At least I hope that's his spirit. Chilled out during the day, watched The Heartbreak Kid. Saturday night went to Fran's house for dinner and drinks. And drinks and drinks and drinks and drinks. Brought the bottle of snazzy Prosecco I got in for The Man's birthday. Needless to say it was bittersweet. Got to' up from the flo' up drunk, crawled home on my hands and knees. Good times!

Sunday 17th February

Woke up a with "a head like a bursted shoe" as my good friend from down Wexico way would say. My condition quickly improved though and I went into town to meet my Bajan empress. We headed into town and went into this gorgeous cafe that I have grown quite fond of, where I inhaled a piadina and a hot chocolate. With cream, I hear you asking? But of course, chums!

Chilled out in there for a while, but unfortunately the reggae sedated me into such a condition that it was impossible to deny the fact that I was, in fact, completely fucked. Walked home at the speed of an arthritic snail. Snuggled up and watched Juno. Which, by the way, is unbelievable.

Monday 18th February

Woke up to discover that I was actually suffering from a two-day hangover. Excellent. Spent all day (and much of the night) at home wasting my life on t'internet talking to everyone I know. Some more than others. You know who you are. (That's you, Flesh Tunnels) Watched Annie Hall in bed. Gave out to myself for wasting yet another day pickin up future husbands via t'internet. MUST cut down on that.

Tuesday 19th February

I start the day as I mean to go on, by watching The L Word. This week's episode involved Turkish Oil Wrestling. I was MADE UP. Mid-sitting there with a big delighted head on me watchin them ripping each other around a ring covered in oil, the doorbell rang. Looked out the peephole. It was a priest. My heart jumped up into my mouth - how did Jesus find out I was watchin The L Word? But in reality he just came to bless the house, but as none of us had a gant between us, we had to go without. So let's just say if a handsome stranger comes by the house for a game of poker, I'll ring the roofers in advance.

Wanted to watch High Fidelity because I had a craving for John Cusack (John you are everything a man should be) but couldn't find it to stream so I settled for 1408.Yes I know, imagine ME watching a scary film all on my own, considering that the last scary film I watched was Silent Hill, which resulted in me being STUCK to Mark in the bed every night for a week. I would have slept INSIDE him if I could have. The terror. Every time I had to pee I had to wake him up to bring me in case the burning babies were waiting at the end of the stairs for me. It's a possibility like. You never know with them burning babies.

Wednesday 20th February

A most productive day today. Myself and my sistren Empress head in and meet our professors for a spot of arse-licking, then head and track down some IMPOSSIBLE to find books in some totally obscure library. Result.

Also a good day for reinforcing my sense of being useful to society as the person in the tourist centre tried to show Tamara where something was on a map, and she grabbed me to take the offending map away from her and guide her to safety. Not that I blame her. It's a commonly known fact that I have the Very Mild Superpower of Superhuman Map Reading Abilities. This being a new discovery since I came to Italy. Even The Man, who is allergic to being nice to other people, one said, nay, one PROCLAIMED, "Jesus, you are a fucking COMPASS". Lets take a moment to imagine a 30 year old man saying that to a small blonde woman. Aaaaaaw yizzle I'm the shizzle. I'm just contemplating what my superhero catchphrase would be. I'm thinking : "Ok turn left at the end of this lane lads and it should be on our right" Or somesuch phrase I say on a daily basis to my followers.

Even though I have an exam tomorrow, I don't do a TAP of study and I have no excuse whatsoever. I am the WORST student in the history of the world. And yet I feel like it'll be grand. Watch The Bucket List in bed and ball my head off. Roommate laughs at my emotional turmoil and calls me a weirdo. Well, excuse me if I feel the pain of others. I mean geez.

Thursday 21st February

Exam first thing. Complete disaster. First of all, I didn't study. But that has NOTHING to do with why it was a disaster. It has EVERYTHING to do with the fact that Hugues was giving it. I went into his office (I have dreamed of this moment for so long) and he looks up from his desk and goes "Bonjour Jenny-fare" in his Belgian accent. At that moment I knew it was all over for me. How was I supposed to sit there opposite him and talk crap about literature when he was WEARING THAT ORANGE JUMPER. Stop it. I couldn't cope. I was like a vegetable in the chair. Paralysed by erotic thoughts. He was sitting there going blah blah blah african literature and I was sitting there with a thought bubble coming out of my head "Look at his lips. I wonder is he hairy. Would he be a good husband? I want to bite him"

Anyway I somehow managed to get through it and in the end I did grand. But only because in the end I decided it wouldn't work out cos he is FAR too skinny and, let's face it, I'm a chubby chaser. I felt sorry for poor Classmate though who has to do it again. Some pain in the hole. But you see, she made the classic mistake of actually admitting she didnt know anything, whereas I bluffed and winged it and pulled it off with style and panache. A tried and tested technique.

Friday 22nd February

Woke up early with the feeling that something good was coming my way. What could it be? Went down to collect the post, and was wondering why the inhabitants of my apartment block had formed a guard of honour from my front door to my postbox, until I opened the door of the postbox to the sound of fanfare. And there it was...could it be? Yes! Yes it was! A Valentine's Card! For me? For me! HURRAH! All is not lost! Someone in the world was having thoughts about me on Valentine's Day! I double check to make sure it wasn't from my mother, or any other blood relative, for that matter. Nope, it's real. It's from an actual man. With an actual willy. It actually counts. Yesssssssssssssss! Do a quick victory lap around the building and head back up to my apartment to the cheers of my neighbours. Display said card proudly on my desk and welcome my housemates with "Ciao! Oh what's this? Oh nothing, it's just a Valentine's card." Hee hee! I've still got it!

All in all a good week, but mostly because of the Valentine's card. That's what I get for being a STONE FOX, I guess. And that's not all folks, oh no! I still have SEVEN euro left! God will my wondrousness never cease!

Week Five

Success! Finally got back on track. I was adrift on a lonely and desolate sea there for a time but I looked to Eddie as my lighthouse to guide me back to safety and prevent me from washing up on the shores of bankruptcy. Eddie, youre my rock! You're my rock, man!

Saturday 9th February

Had planned to bring Roommate up to San Luca, this hilltop church in Bologna which is reached via the longest (and most torturously uphill) portico in the world, but she says she's "too tired". Too tired? TOO TIRED? After I trudged all the way out to Casalecchio to find a friggin office that didnt exist with her the day before? But I can understand how she is so tired. All that sleeping and mooching around the house never doing anything can really take it out of you. I tell ya, it's a doozie.

Luckily, my Bajan empress came back the day before so I called her up, made a gorgeous big salami baguette and packed a "pickernic" and away we went. It was fabulous. The views were amazing and it was so chilled out. Much needed break from the city.

Sunday 10th February

Much to my surprise, I did not, as I had expected, wake up as an amazon as a result of the strenuous workout of the day before. The day was spent mourning the sad loss of this dream.

Monday 11th February

Sit myself down and have a serious word with myself about how I need to take control of my finances. Then I watch The L Word on t'internet all day. And yet ANOTHER innocent pair of knickers meets a creamy grave.

Tuesday 12th February

More L Word. It goes deep, man.

Wednesday 13th February

Have the fight to end all fights with The Man. Its not even a fight, more of just a complete loss of any shred of respect that I ever had for him. Delete his number from my phone. Decide it's better for my mental health not to bother with such people any more. Head to class, yada yada. Then head to the cinema with Fran and Kenna and watch Scusa, Ma Ti Chiamo Amore. TOTAL cheesefest, much to my delight! Head home happy as Larry, visions of cheesy Italian love scenes dancing like sugarplums in my head. Fnar fnar.

Thursday 14th February

Wake up totally hopeful that someone may have sent me a card. Do some preparatory stretching to go downstairs and check the postbox for the extremely large card that some Large and Wonderful Man is bound to have sent me. Was there a card I hear you asking? Nope. Although, my mother did send me the local paper though. So it wasn't a wasted trip.

Go upstairs and download a few films, secretely hoping for a delivery of flowers. Nada. Then head into town for my favourite class of the week with Hugues. He is so hot I cant even control myself. Im just sittin there thinking about the weight capacity of his desk.

Anyway he says my name in that Belgian way of his and my pupils turn into love hearts. I make a mental note to stay off the acid. Lurk around the shops a bit then head home to do some "study". For my degree in Bebo studies, like.

Put my key in the door, secretly hoping for there to be a huge flower arrangement on the hall table. Nothing again. Then check the kitchen just to make sure he's not going to jump out of a giant cake or anything. No such luck. My mind wandered back to the Barbra Kruger inspired valentine card I made and sent last week. A small ant played the world's smallest violin. Took care of a bit of business, had a nice dinner and chilled out for the night. Headed to bed lovely and relaxed. Midnight or so I get my Valentines call. Sadly it didnt cut the mustard.

Friday 15th February

Head into town to meet my bitches and we have a nice coffee and then head to class. Then head back to theirs and the Empress cooks up a big gorgeous pan of sausage, beans, and spicy tomato stuff and we dunk big chunks of freshly baked bread in it. Soul food if I ever needed it. Then I wasnt feeling great so Tamara gave me some Bajan panadol. Which I was unaware had some "special" ingredients shall we say. Cut to a half hour later and Im finding it hard to sit up straight and can't focus my eyes.We are listening to Tamara's partner's radio show in Barbados via the interweb and she calls him and he "bigs us up". Completely inebriated by the pills I go apeshit and start bodypopping. Or what I thought was bodypopping. I can only imagine that it was a visual nightmare. Anyway head home slumped over on the bus. Trying with all my might not to fall asleep or fall sideways off the chair. Get home and crawl in the door on my hands and knees, face down onto the bed and wake up in the same position the next morning, both legs in one leg hole of my boxers. Nice.

All in all a week of ups and down on the personal life front (mostly plummeting downs) but its definitely a positive week for the finances as I have 62c left! Woo hoo! My spirits are restored and I vow never to let Eddie down again! Until next week, like.

Week Four

Oh God. This week was a complete disaster! I hang my head in shame. Instead of sticking to my fifty snots as I pledged to Eddie in a sincere oath I was temporarily possessed by some kind of spendthrift demon and I ploughed my way through almost 110! Oh Eddie, I never meant to make you cry!

Saturday 2nd February

Went down the pub to watch the match with The Man. Splashed out on a cheeseburger for my lunch. Oh my god the second that juicy meat embarked on a journey down my oesophagus I felt truly alive. I'm not joking you it was like heroin! So anyway we were watching the match and I was pretending that I didn't want to murder him and cut him into little pieces and give him out as sweets on Hallowen over the birthday cake incident, which was giving me indigestion. I mean he's my bud and all that so I know that he's completely wrapped up in himself and I accept that but sometimes he makes me so mad I want to take off my shoe and beat him about the face with it.

Anyway I got pissed on two glasses of wine and then headed home to change because we were going out to this cuban place but when I got home I decided against it because it was Fran and Adonis, Classmate and Lorenzo and The Man and The Ex going and my gooseberry outfit was in the wash so I couldnt go. So myself and Roommate stayed in and chilled out and watched the Mighty Boosh and laughed our heads off.

Sunday 3rd February

I was in my room studying up a storm when this loud crappy Italian music started pumping from the courtyard. I was stressed out enough as it was so I stormed over to the window and wrenched it open and stuck my angry little head out to give whoever it was the what-for and I looked down into the courtyard and there was a couple slowdancing in the middle of the courtyard. The woman had her head on his chest and he was here swigging wine. The second I stuck my head out and looked down, he looked up and caught my eye. Sure how could I still be mad? It was HILARIOUS! So I just gave him the thumbs-up and closed the window.Never one to keep life's pleasures to myself, I booted it into the kitchen at high speed and myself and Roommate were here peering out the net curtains of the balcony door and here were the other two muggin the heads off each other in the courtyard where all the apartments face out onto. We were here laughin away at the shit music (think cheesy sax solos) and the next minute yer man just says something to your wan and the two of them look straight up at the balcony door at the two of us pervin the bit-out! Hahahahahaha! Oh jesus Im mortified just thinkin about it!

Monday 4th February

Couldn't sleep at all last night. Woke up at 3 then had to lie there for hours going out of my mind. Around 7ish I finally fell asleep only to be rudely awoken by Roommate's alarm clock at 7.45 am.

Let me just explain something people. Roommate has never once in 24 years risen out of the scratcher before the crack of noon. But for some reason she sets her alarm to go off at 7.45 am every morning. She turns it off after it takes about a half an hour of continuous ringing and my shoe in the head to wake her out of her powerful Polish coma. Then she allows it to go off every 9 mins. And she STILL doesnt get up til around 1. Now usually this doesnt bother me because I am usually up and pottering about by then and then I head to the gym til 1 so I dont have to listen to it. But the one morning I want to have a sneaky lie-in. PLUS I was "hormonal" shall we say.

Well now if I didnt launch myself out of the bed after the third time the snooze went off and RIP the phone out of her unsuspecting hand and unleash the blonde fury on her. I dont know how she emerged uninjured. I was LIVID. Keep in mind that she used to have a little pink plastic alarm clock when we first moved in that I actually had to confiscate it from her.

Hello like Roommate? Its not as if I dont let her have her way about every other aspect of living together - she sleeps with the window WIDE open so you can actually SEE your breath so Im in the bed fully suited up top to toe in men's jimjam ends and large and wonderful man's hoodie which I could enter and never be seen alive again. She wears the LOUDEST flip-flops ever experienced by human ears (at LEAST 38756546378398 SQUILLION decibels) and pads in and out of the room continuously while Im trying to sleep but I just bought ear plugs (which, by the way only ACCENTUATE the noise) That fuckin alarm is the last straw. I swear to god if I ever hear it again it's curtains for you Bajszczak! Ah but I couldnt live without her and all her annoying habits. I loves her so I does!

Tuesday 5th January

Go on a HUGE grocery BINGE today! I just think "Fuck it" and head into the market and actually buy everything I see, including a MASSIVE(ly delicious) salami. Oh my god it is the most wondrous thing I have ever put in my mouth. Ahem.

Wednesday 6th January

Got back from the gym to a note from Roommate saying "the phone is working". Cue HOURS spent on t'internet catching up on my L Word. So needless to say was in a great mood for the night.

Thursday 7th January

Cant find any more L Word episodes so am heartbroken. So I go to the market and buy a SHITLOAD of crap and go home and stuff it into my mouth and wonder why I exiled myself in this stupid city. But then Roommate comes home and we watch series 3 of the Mighty Boosh and all is right with the world again.

Friday 8th January

Myself and Roommate head off today on a journey through time and space which we entitled "tit-boxes on tour" to find this office in Casalecchio which, as it turns out, didnt exist. Spend all day looking for it and decide to abandon ship around 5 and were halfway to the elusive bus stop when she gets a call from some woman telling her how to get there. Please now. I mean please now people. If she wanted Roommate there she could have rang her at 3.30 and wondered where she was. I was here do what you want girl I'm outta here and Roommate is like well I'm headin over. So I embark on the neverending bus ride home and start makin my dinner. Roommate walks in the door a half hour later. There was no office.

While eating my dinner I took few moments to reflect on the sham that my week was and my complete failure to adhere to my budgeting vows. I am very disappointed in myself. But even worse, Eddie is very disappointed in me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go flagellate myself.

Week Three

Well well well looks like Ive made it to Week Three and beyond! Things are looking up for young Jennikybooky. Or are they? Read on........

Saturday 26th January

Woke up with supremo hangover in Fran's house but then had a lovely walk home in the sunshine which put me in a great humour. The stress relief from having got the exam over and done with was orgasmic and I was completely exhausted from studyin like a mofo all week so I washed me sleepy head when I got home and then curled up in my little cream leaba. Bliss!

Sunday 27th January

Jesus Christ if I EVER see another spud again I will friggin implode! What was I THINKING buying that 10kg bag? Roast spuds, boiled spuds, mashed spuds, spuds in a salad, baked spuds, potato rosti, potato scallops, twice baked potato, spuds in my nightmares, spuds following me down dark alleys. Never again.

The sun was splitting the rocks today so myself and Roommate strolled into town and around this gorgeous park where there were squillions of old people having picnics. It put me in a great mood and made me glad to be living here. Italians really know how to enjoy life. I noticed none of them were eating spuds.

Monday 28th January

Ok happy time is officially over. Have an exam on Friday and have forgotten every word of French I ever knew. Couple that with my complete lack of knowledge of Belgian and African literature and the future looks bleak. Stress levels are mounting. Get up at the crack of dawn and head to gym like a rabid animal. Then go home and speed read a Belgian detective novel. Compelling stuff.

Tuesday 29th January

Friday is drawing ever nearer but this doesnt seem to inhibit my ability to procrastinate.

Wednesday and Thursday fly by in much the same manner.

Friday 1st February

Get up and head into exam only to be told that I have to take mine on the 21st of Feb. Fine by me, I says.Yesterday was The Man's birthday. He is pretending to be 29 but really he's 47 and everyone knows it. It's embarrassing really. So today we were going to go for lunch. Wait around town til lunch time then call him only to discover that he is still in bed and won't be joining us for lunch. How thoughtful, seeming as it was in honour of him. So myself and Classmate head for a gorgeous Greek lunch on which I spend me last tenner.

Head home lovely and relaxed and in my good humour I go against everything that Eddie has taught me and take a score out of the bank machine and go shopping for a few bits to make The Man a birthday cake. But not only that, my friends, oh no. I say to myself "Hey, it's a special occasion" and splash out on a bottle of prosecco. And none of the cheap stuff I buy myself either, oh no. The good shit. So go home and bake a deliciously moist and wonderful chocolate torta for me oul man and what happens? He doesn't feel like coming over. He's going to stay at home and read. Read what, I hear you asking? The Bible. The fucking Bible. Im like are you actually going to make me eat your birthday cake on my own? Apparently so. He says "lets eat it tomorow" Tomorrow? TOMORROW? One word for you Man "nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnah!" So I sat down with Roommate and we defiantly put a fine dent in that cake. He ain't never gonna see a CRUMB of this cake!

I dont get it. Like I really dont get it. If someone went to the time and effort to make me a cake, or make me anything for that matter, I would be so touched it would bring a tear to my eye. Needless to say I was really hurt and upset. But then myself and Roommate watched The Mighty Boosh until I got a cramp in my cheek from laughin and I had to turn it off. Good times!

So that's about the size of my week. Not very exciting or eventful. Sorry will try harder next week.

High Point: The lovely weather.

Low point: The Twix still eludes me.

But I dont like to end on a low note. Here's a song:

Turnaround,
Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming around
Turnaround,
Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears
Turnaround,
Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by
Turnaround,
Every now and then I get a little bit terrified and then I see the look in your eyes
Turnaround bright eyes,
Every now and then I fall apart
Turnaround bright eyes,
Every now and then I fall apart
And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you'll only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever

Until next week chums!

Week Two

Well miraculously made it past the first week alive. The novelty has well and truly worn off so here's to an even tougher week.....

Saturday 19th January

Got up at the crack of dawn and went to the bank machine to withdraw fifty glorious euro. Twenty minutes and the groceries later and I'm down to thirty. D'oh! Bought a ten kilo sack of spuds and walked home with them over my shoulder. Cue a pre-famine themed week of meals.

Sunday 20th January

Got up early, went in and luxuriated in the shower. Was just massaging body lotion into my luscious milky white bod and Roommate comes strutting into the bathroom. I was like "Eh, well" and she just stood there frozen to the spot. In awe and wonderment, obviously. I said I'd be done in a minute and then when I was finished I walked past the kitchen and she shouted out after me "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyy!" Hahahahahaha! She is learning, oh yes.

Monday 21st January

Well it turns out that having the internet in my apartment really was just a crazy wet dream. In the middle of registering for exams t'internet cut out and so did the phone line. As I write this we are still waiting for someone to come and fix it. Cue me having to return to Sala Borsa to use the free tintyweb amongst the underbelly of Bolognese society.

Tuesday 22nd January

Got up at the crack of dawn as usual to study for my exam and was happily sittin down at my desk workin away at 8.04 am when hammering and drilling started up in the apt over us which continued on until 5 pm. By the end of the day, I wanted to hit someone in the face with a shovel. Then I went to the bathroom and when I came out Roommate was in the kitchen "Ciao" she says "I've just taken your last two eggs. I thought you were in the gym." Now people. Consider for a moment my non-meat diet and how much those protein laden eggs were worth to me. Also consider that she has had a fucking Twix in the fridge for the last two weeks that taunts me every time I open the fridge door. Jesus, she's lucky I love her.

Wednesday 23rd January

Wake up from a nap to Roommate screaming for me. Run out into the hall in my knickers to save her, thinking she was being murdered by some kind of large-hoofed mammal only to find it was much worse. It was a cockroach. A COCKROACH! In the cleanest house in Bologna - nay, the world. Roommate was freaking out. Up on my back she nearly got. "It's ok girl" I said "Give me your shoe" "No" she says. No. And I standing there in me scunders. "You better get that shoe off your foot this second" So I killed it. But now Im scared that I angered his kinsmen and that they are assembling a small but powerful army to seek vengeance.

Thursday 24th January

Did a French exam. The less said about it the better. Then went to dinner party in the night, drank copiously and went out to club where he who from now on shall be known as "The Man" got so pissed that he latched onto three young impressionable boys and then left me and Fran to dance with them while he danced "The Man" on his own. Then, clearly delusional from grappa he told the boys that "She's mine", swiftly followed by "I toy with her". Now, if ever I doled out a Laser Death Stare, that was it. "I toy with her" ? I TOY WITH HER?! Just when did any of this fictional toying take place, I am wondering? Then stayed in Fran's house as The Man was too pissed to be a deterrent to small dogs, never mind murderers to take me home. I ought to punch him in the kidney.

Friday 25th January

Hurrah! Ive made it to Friday alive! But thats not all folks, oh no! I have a fiver left! Yesssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Delighted, am I? Eddie would be so proud of me now.

High Point this week: No longer crave fizzy drinks and sugary things. Except that Twix. It WILL be mine!

Low Point: Can't afford bus ticket so have to make the 45 minute trek into town and then back on foot, and the battery (now a "luxury item") went in my mp3 player and I can't function as a human being without music so every morning I cunningly steal the battery out of the DVD remote control and use it in my mp3 player and then I sneak it back in before Oriana comes back from work. I know. Im a bad person.