mr anguish and the sins of the throat

Well, the reprieve may be temporary. My new housemate is grating my cheese at the moment. I don't wash up right. I don't mop the floor right. Whenever I want to have someone over for dinner, apparently it's not the right time. I have them over anyway. Well, she asks, could I possibly confine my guests to my bedroom as soon as we've finished eating? Because she needs 'just a little bit of space for herself'. Like... every other room in the house?

And she had a friend of her's over for dinner, and as soon as he got me alone, he went into this monologue about 'poor R-- (that is, my housemate), who has a big thing for him and wants to have his baby, but alas, he doesn't feel that deep connection he so requires from a woman,' and so no joy for poor R--. He said he was a poet. I asked what he wrote about. 'Anguish.' Then he told me he felt we had an amazing spiritual kinship, even if we had just met, and he would be glad to loan me some books if I were to come over to his flat. When he left, my housemate said, 'Ah, M-- and I... there's a sort of electricity between us. Something transcendental. Did you sense it? You must have noticed.'

Sigh. I'm racking my brains for male acquaintances over thirty who might like to visit Tuscany for the weekend and get in some serious nookie with her, because I feel that might solve her man troubles and my neurotic-housemate troubles in one fell swoop.

This weekend, the town is turning into one great market. Every street is being quilted over with marquees, with just enough space to squeeze between them and regard the mountains of dried tomatoes and olives, the stacked loaves the size of sofa cushions, the sausages like tree trunks from which one's order is carved by the slice. It's going to be a very fun place to be.

I walked past a fast food joint yesterday and noted that it was called Sins of the Throat. Just thought I'd throw that out there. And a bit of trivia for sneaker lovers: the Italian word for 'throat' is Gola. The Italian adjective 'goloso' (throaty) actually means 'having a sweet tooth and a slight tendency towards gluttony.' One can imagine an age-broadened maiden aunt admitting wistfully that she has always been a little 'golosa'. It's one of my favourite Italian adjectives.