A fairy tale ending....?

As we drove past Milan’s impressive Medieval-style cemetery a few days ago, Sophie (being obsessed with all things Princess) shouted out “Look mummy, that’s the castle where the princess lives with the dragon!”. “Oh yes, so it is” was my reply. To which she responded “but then the prince comes and kills the dragon and the princess says thank you prince!”. Obviously, this old gem is nothing to be alarmed about, but since it’s 2014, girl-power has been around for a while, and so I thought it was worth offering an alternative ending to this slightly tired version. “OR”, I suggest, “the princess could just kill the dragon HERSELF and then she wouldn’t need the prince. What do you think?”. Sophie considers this for a minute, and concludes “OR…… she could just call the prince.” OK, I see that, at the tender age of three and a half, those classic clichéd fairytale endings are already deep ingrained, and as we go through the various stages of Cinderella and Prince Charming, Beauty and the Beast, Barbie and Ken….there will probably be little I can do to suggest that these little ladies are just as interesting and capable without their male companions ….. This got me thinking about something (perhaps quite controversial) which has been playing on my mind a lot lately, as we go back to work and school and re-haul the family budget for the nth time this year. I went to an all-girls grammar school which was what you might call “high flying” (yes, I know – I’m not a perfect representation of its usual turnout!), and where the mantra that was drummed into us on a daily basis was “you can be who you want to be, do what you want to you…”. The school motto was “wisdom giveth life”, but it might as well have been “girl power!” given the sheer amount of conviction that we were the future, the world was ours, and nobody could take that away from us. Now, I admit that many of my school peers have gone on to be doctors, lawyers and so on, and obviously these professions bring with them a certain prestige and – not to be underestimated – economic security. BUT, what bothers me is the extent to which the lifestyle, finances and social standing of every woman I know - here in Milan at least - is influenced by their husbands / boyfriends / significant others. I have a real-life example (because this blog is serious so scientific proof is obviously required!). Take the girls that work in my office. We are all around the same age, from similar backgrounds, with very similar educations and do the same job in the same place for roughly the same salary. This, however, is where the similarities end and the ENORMOUS lifestyle gaps open up. D’s husband is a company CEO. They live in a penthouse in Monza, have a cleaner and a nanny, take several holidays per year and own a second home on the Tuscan coast. K’s boyfriend is a manager in the fashion industry. They own a detached house with a big garden outside the city and spend a fortune on clothes and eating out with friends. They also spend lots of weekends away at spas or similar and so are permanently tanned and relaxed. V’s boyfriend does a fairly ordinary office job in a small-ish company. They have a two year-old and manage to make ends meet by making lots of sacrifices. The family holiday is an option only in the case that they both get their full annual bonuses, otherwise they stay at home. Finally there’s G. Her husband lost his job a few months ago and is having trouble finding something permanent to replace it. They also have a child, and G is worried that they are soon going to have trouble paying the rent and fees for their son’s nursery. It would appear that they have less than nothing left at the end of the month. So there we have it – 4 girlfriends who started the race lined up together but who appear to get ahead or fall behind as a result of the earning power of their other halves. I used to think of my friends who put “someone with money” high up on their list of requirements for a potential partner as shallow and gold-digging. Now I’m starting to think that they were definitely onto something, and that alongside “wisdom giveth life”, perhaps my girls’ grammar school should also have taught us that “husband giveth money and husband taketh away”. Or maybe I should start teaching Sophie that it’s fine to call the Prince to slay the dragon, but make sure you do a credit check on him first……

Back in action

...so, I stumbled on my own poor, neglected blog whilst looking for something else and since by some miracle I even remembered my password... Well, here I am!

What to say? Where to start?

Maybe with the fact that Sophie will be a year old on the 18th of February and life is no longer even vaguely similar to what it was the last time I contributed to this blog! Nothing and nobody can really prepare you for the joy, fear, happiness and horror that is being a parent and you can't imagine the way in which your entire outlook on life changes overmight when a new little person comes into your life.
She is stupendous. Beautiful and intelligent and funny and curious and naughty and extremely hard work and all the other cliches. I am also typically exhausted (back at work almost full time - eek!) but I have to say it's Luca who has made the biggest change. He's completely obsessed. They say there's nothing like the relationship between a daddy and daughter and mamma mia are they spot on!

So here we are - back in the city and enjoying the challenges that life throws at us. I can't remember the last time I was even anywhere near my bed after 6:30am, the house is a complete mess and we both fall asleep on the sofa by 10 o'clock every night but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. If I can manage it, I might even add "updating blog" to my looong list of post-work activities and not disappear into the milano smog like the last time!

M'am, why are you still talking to me?

It’s Thursday evening and my friend / colleague K is returning from a 3-day work trip to Athens. As she waits in the baggage claim area at Malpensa airport, she notices that the girl standing next to her, speaking Italian to a group of guys, has a strong American accent. She is about to strike up conversation when her bag arrives, and so, being in a bit of a rush to jump in a taxi and get home, she picks up her bag and heads for the exit. Following a quick trip to the bathroom, she is out in the daylight and heading for the taxi rank. K has lived in Milan for 5 years now, and regularly passes through Malpensa so she automatically knows which way to head and where to wait in order to beat the rush. Dodging through the smokers and rowdy groups of families, she notices the American girl from her flight looking around as if lost and confused, and so K (being the friendly soul that she is) approaches the girl. The exchange goes like this:

K: “Hi, do you need a taxi? Can I help you?”

Silence.

K: “Hey, sorry, were you looking for a cab, because if so you need to go to the front of the cab line”

Silence.

K (confused):”Ummm… can you hear me?”

Girl (in an aggressive tone) : “Why are you talking to me?”

K: “Sorry, I thought you might need some help getting a taxi”

Girl (even more aggressive): “I don’t need your help. I LIVE HERE! And you probably don’t even speak the language!”

K: “Jeez, I was only trying to be friendly and actually I do speak the language - I’ve lived here for five years”

Girl: “I don’t need your help – I have a voucher for 80 euros which will get me anywhere in Milan”

K: “Errr, I think you’ll find that 80 euros is the flat rate whether you have a voucher or not”

Girl (in a really rude tone): “M’am, why are you still talking to me?”

K (now very angry and offended at the ‘m’am’ comment): “Why are you so mean?!”

Girl: “I still don’t know why you’re talking to me”

K: “Wow. I was only trying to help you! Just one more thing before I go… I feel really sorry for you! Have a nice day.”

And with that, K marches to the front of the taxi line, gets in the first waiting cab and leaves the mean girl, still looking dazed and confused on the pavement.
Since the UK / US expat community in Milan is relatively small, I would like to launch an appeal. If anyone knows the super bitch who travelled from Athens to Malpensa on the evening of Thursday 9th April, or if you ARE the super bitch, let it be known that this is NOT the way to treat people – especially strangers who are just trying to be friendly and helpful to a fellow citizen. Grrrrrrrrrr.

A heavy heart

My recent absence from the blogging scene can be explained by the picture. I can barely describe the heart-in-the-boots feeling which came over me as the plane hit the tarmac at Malpensa airport, and which I haven't yet been able to shake off in the two days that I have been back in the office... Having lived in Sardinia for 3 years, whenever I go back I feel like I am going home. The return to Milan makes me feel like a prisoner being sent back to the slammer after a week of parole.

Something needs to change.