Very surreal bus ride to the BV meeting this morning. First off, there were only four of us, which was odd because (1) that bus is always crowded, regardless of the time of day or night, and (2) it was raining. (Which was a pisser, so to speak, because I was going to wear my blue �ber-pointy shoes, but they're still too new to wear in the rain, so I had to change my whole damn look.)

Now, two of these women were talking. Not arguing, mind you; just talking. Loudly. A mile a minute. At the same time. TO EACH OTHER. As far as I could tell, they were managing to actually listen to each other as well. It was like their ears and mouths were completely disconnected. Very weird.

Woman3, who appeared to be completely normal, was staring.

At me.

We've got the oral version of an internet chat room going on in front of us, and she's turned half way around in her seat, staring at me. Did she think I was a ventriloquist or something?

I, on the other hand, was looking for the hidden camera.

BV has a Christmas Bazaar every year, the proceeds of which go to our official charities. This year, they decided to have a spring mini-bazaar as well.

I bought two bottles of limoncello. I buy some at Christmas every year, but this year's supply is, of course, long gone. A's mother-in-law makes it, and it will Kick Your Ass.

Hey. It's for charity.

Due to the nature of last weekend, ie. barren and completely devoid of interest, I decided to talk to my Italian teacher about Marco the Mummy's Boy yesterday, during the "conversation" portion of class.

Whoops.

She starting hopping up and down in her chair like a toddler, clapping her hands with glee. She's a tiny thing, my Italian teacher, so she almost got away with it.

Almost.

I had forgotten that my Italian teacher lives with her thirty-year-old daughter. Who hasn't quite graduated yet, but will soon. My Italian teacher, from all indications, has no intention to wait until that happens and her ex refuses to continue to pay support. She wants to sue immediately, and for all I know, she's talking to her lawyer as I type.

Then I got treated to the whole tawdry story, which was actually rather interesting. Sort of like a soap-opera with out the bad acting. Just the plot line, read with a great deal of righteous indignation. Seems her ex-husband left her for his young secretary. For a year. Then, my Italian teacher took him back, despite the fact that it was rather obvious he needed money.

After that, he left her for an eighteen-year-old switchboard operator at his firm. He was forty. At which point my teacher finally grasped the reality of the situation, and divorced him. The eighteen-year-old left him, and he took up with an Asian woman who was in her twenties.

At this point, I was seriously wanting to get a look at the ex. I mean, he must be hotter than hell. Almost asked to see a picture, in fact, but then I realized that they have all probably long since been burned or defaced.

So, Ex marries Asian-woman. Teacher hates Asian Woman. In fact, Teacher now hates almost all Asians on general principle, although she didn't before. AW, who may be Canadian (she was talking very rapidly and somewhat incoherently by this time), and Ex are now living in Canada. AW thinks it ridiculous that he is still paying support for his 30 year old daughter, and has made her resentment known. Oh, and Ex is now a director of the company, and no longer hurting for money.

There was more to the rant, not suprisingly, but all I really caught were some undoubtedly fascinating colloquial expressions that I would like to add to my pallid Italian vocabulary but didn't understand, and "he must pay", repeated at regular intervals.

I did find out some interesting information, though. First, it is actually illegal to kick out your adult offspring unless you can prove that they are deadbeats, which is very difficult to do. Secondly, a few years back, it was very difficult for young women to get jobs. No one wanted to hire them because they were afraid they would get pregnant and cost the employer lots of money, and hardly ever show up to work because they needed to take care of the kiddies. Which I believe because, as I've mentioned before, it's damn near impossible to fire anyone in Italy. So the center-left Italian government of the time decided to fix the situation by giving tax breaks to employers who hire anyone, male or female, under thirty. Now, of course, no one wants to hire anyone over thirty.