Friday, May 24, 2013

The interesting thing about sharing your opinions either on paper, internet or even spoken is you never know what will happen shortly after voicing them.

Yesterday was quite surprising...I was contacted from the close friend that I had been grieving for some time now...which is really usual that he actually contacted me after so many years ...only a few days after writing this blog, mentioning him...if I didn't know better Id say he might have found my blog but none the less I do think it is only a coincidence..well if those actually exist... that's another blog/rant/overly opinionated topic! was a sad message as he reminded me of his illness which completely broke my heart knowing that his life is full of pain and reduced to getting as much rest as possible during his free times. But just as equally painful knowing that reading between the lines of his words...
-I don't have the energy for people outside of my immediate family-

it was finally a closed door since he hasn't the time to reach out to others. How could I not respect that, as I have no idea what it feels like to be in constant pain and so tired that I cant even find the time to communicate with others. But I would be a full liar if I didn't admit I was still hurt and angry that he was unable to do more, even just for our relationship. Because to me he was the brother I never had..or was that is... But deep down there is a glimps of hope that the relationship will be restored..Ill just keep praying for it..and for healing on his part...

Whilst I was taking a moment to mull over my feelings the front door phone buzzer went ding..but for only a second...of course it was my (not so friendly) postman. Well I cant say he is unfriendly... I've never met the man, ummmm I hope its a man under that helmet..otherwise a woman with teeny boobs..meh could be!

Anyway every time he has an important package or letter that cant fit into my postbox he just rings the gate phone and then sits the letter on top of the gate.. Doesn't even bother to get off his motorbike and actually throw the letter over the gate. I wouldn't even mind if he did that as at least its in my property, less likely for it to be knicked by someone walking by. My house sits on a somewhat busy road...for pedestrians that is. My road leads from the main road into the village ..and sort of is a short cut if you want to by pass walking through the centre to get to the otherside of the village..I know it doesn't make sense but just know that many people walk/bike past my house. I love it as I get to people watch whilst hanging out my window with a glass of wine in one hand (love the looks I get) but hey its my Italian dream not theirs!!

Anyway FOCUS JESS....okay so back to the postman..he always leaves my large letters on the gate ...not to mention he only rings the buzzer for about 2 seconds..obviously to say... oh hey I'm leaving something on your gate..then he just drives I wonder what would he do if I wasn't home? I've never actually had something to arrive whilst I wasn't home..or maybe I have and it was could never know.
Thankfully this letter wasn't taken..even though on the front of the package it said (important official documents) umm yeah..

I was never so happy to receive a piece of paper with a stamp on the back of it! hahaa

That stamp is an Apostle stamp. This is only part 3 of the drama I have had to go through just to declare residency in Italia. Gareth of course got it 10 mins after applying as he has a job..and even thought he makes 5 times more than the average person in Italy for whatever reason I am only allowed to get my own residency if I have a job stupid..and so I asked what about Olivia..oh well since I am her mother she falls under my name. No job residency for her. I really wanted to shove the papers up someone's rear ..but of course being Chrsit-like and all that I was nice and polite.

Besides I made the choice to live here knowing the beauracacy was a cant really complain too much. Now since I do not work (however I did debate with the lady that, in which she agreed, that a casalinga is a full time job in Italia..since they insist on sparkling clean houses ..with mopping the patio pavement and all..(again that's another over opinionated topic) Not saying that I actually clean my own house or the pavements for that matter..but she didnt need to know that...
Even still didn't get any residency papers from the conversation...only a few chuckles.

So my next step is to prove that I am a dependant of the 'money maker' in the house...and how does a new resident do that..well first you must translate your marriage certificate and birth certificate for any children that you have...and then you must get the country that the documents are issued to say that these documents are true ..which is proven by a judge giving the apostile stamp (at a hefty price of course)
And wouldn't you know it..just only last year the Australian AND British Consulates stopped doing this. So all documents must be sent special courier to that country and then given the stamp and then sent back.
Oh and of course the Stewarts couldn't find their original marriage certificate ...which of course this stamp can only be put on the original. So we had to first ask Gareth's mum to apply for a new marriage certificate first.
NOWWWWW FINALAMENTE.....3 weeks later..we have both documents in hand....

So off I go today trotting along to the commune, happy to finally get my residency..sit down..speak nice words with my dear friend at desk number 4 as usual...we really should be mates by now...however my smile turned upside down when she said..
oh your translation of the documents must be legal translations ..not just normal translation...I promise you she almost got a slap in the face...I know I know ...tranquilla!!!

Well the journey for residency continues..who knows if Livvy and I are actually in the country legally at the moment..probably not as all EU citizens are allowed to stay here but you must declare residency after 3 months of relocating.
We did leave for 10 days so....meh
Tomorrow I now need to go see a judge (and pay him €37 of course) just to swear to him that these translations are true to my knowledge.....then we will return to the commune... be continued!


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