Posted by admin on Feb 07, 2016
“Si Tiziana.” Yes Tiziana I replied at the singing of my name.
“Viene qua,” Tiziana responded with a more forceful tone, wanting me to go to her and I had no idea why.
I reluctantly lifted myself off the couch. I had been relaxing after my third day at school. Tiziana was in her room frantically getting ready to go out. She always seemed to be in a hurry as she explained that her friends were always waiting for her. For the two months that we lived together Tiziana was always rushing and I never figured out why she took so long to get ready.
Tiziana was always kind enough to invite me out with her and her friends, but I always told her that I had to study, and she hated the excuse; saying that I studied too much.
“Io sto uscendo, voui venire?” she asked me.
“No Grazie. Io devo studiare. Ce lo il primo test Giovedi,” I replied
“Ma tu studia troppo. Sempre a studiare,” she replied frustrated.
I always study compared to you, because you never study.
“Che cosa hai fatto oggi? Che Chef?” Changing the subject she asked what I had studied that day, at the time she was looking for her shorts.
“Abbiamo cucinato Congilgio con Chef Carlo,” I replied that we had learnt deboning and cooking rabbit at class that day with everyone’s favourite chef; chef Carlo.
“Ma che bello, Chef Carlo. Perche tu non ti scorpri?” she asked.
“Tiziana lui e sposato,” I replied flabbergasted at her suggestion of having an affair with a married man.
“Che te ne fregga,” she said non chalantly as if it is normal not to care about sleeping with a married man. Tiziana seemed surprised that I would even challenge her suggestion to have an affair with a married man.
I recalled my first trip to Italy when I was twenty two. I made a comment to my cousin that everyone in Italy seemed to be in a relationship, and that the first question Italians ask is if you have a partner. My cousin explained that the culture in Italy is to always be in a relationship but rarely faithful. My cousin told me that people are cheating all the time, and it is so common that it’s hard to know if you can trust someone when you first meet them. This trip was going to be longest stay in Italy and I was starting to see some of these little traits that I did not like.
After almost an hour of getting ready, pocket rocket Tiziana stormed out the door. She had just received a call that her friends, who were waiting for her downstairs, were leaving as they had waited too long already. After yelling down the phone at them, she stormed out.
I was happy that my housemate liked going out every night. I enjoyed having the house to myself, and a clean kitchen because she ate in restaurants rather than at home. This was the first time in all my life that I was going to live with a housemate. I was worried that I was going to have to deal with a dirty kitchen. There is nothing worse than having to look at other peoples bits of food on the kitchen bench, worse still having to clean other people’s dishes so that I could cook. I have heard these stories before and I prayed this wouldn’t happen to me.
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What living with a housemate did to my sanity[/caption]