tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post2712288504099578856..comments2024-03-07T07:47:38.595-08:00Comments on The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italy: Driving With My UterusThe Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-56924466189739326182012-12-06T03:05:56.057-08:002012-12-06T03:05:56.057-08:00Most certainly the case. We won't go near the ...Most certainly the case. We won't go near the perving factor over here. Oh no, we won't.The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-73024634369813851852012-12-06T03:04:27.184-08:002012-12-06T03:04:27.184-08:00Totally agree. To avoid Italian drivers, you need ...Totally agree. To avoid Italian drivers, you need to avoid driving. Not possible for me at all. Oh, you'd also need to NEVER cross a road, an extremely dangerous venture. Maybe when I retire to Paris and become a little old bag lady I won't have to - I can hit them with my baguette from the footpath!The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-88068669218628017732012-12-06T03:01:53.751-08:002012-12-06T03:01:53.751-08:00Oh my goodness now you have me laughing! Thanks fo...Oh my goodness now you have me laughing! Thanks for the - giggle - comment! ciao catThe Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-10136151087247633962012-12-06T01:14:48.706-08:002012-12-06T01:14:48.706-08:00Hahaha! Love it - go Cat! Whether he was driving w...Hahaha! Love it - go Cat! Whether he was driving with the penis or not, he was likely thinking with it!Rachel Fentonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10046917627054462214noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-52637578672310401752012-12-06T00:01:59.038-08:002012-12-06T00:01:59.038-08:00Oh, goodness. Don't even get me started about ...Oh, goodness. Don't even get me started about driving in Italy. My blood pressure ticks up with each second behind the wheel. That's why I live centrally, walk ten minutes to work, and walk just about everywhere else I need to go. I suppose I 'drive with my uterus', too, because on the occasions I'm forced to drive in Rome, I actually use those lovely blinker-inventions Italians don't seem to know exist, and stop for little old ladies crossing on the zebra stripes as angry motorists honk at me to simply run them over. Yes, walking keeps me much saner... : )Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-81298674860403074582012-12-05T19:22:25.330-08:002012-12-05T19:22:25.330-08:00I would have asked if he was driving with his test...I would have asked if he was driving with his testicle (singular) then added the Italin "etto" ending to it meaning cute, little. Or, if you know how to say undescended testicle that might be even better.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-83994868945293574312012-12-04T23:34:53.299-08:002012-12-04T23:34:53.299-08:00Oh but I've been chased. By a blonde with a wa...Oh but I've been chased. By a blonde with a wavering finger (when I stopped for jogger to cross and she honked me from behind and I put the finger out my window). And on the autostrada. And in town. Especially I am a little ratty car when mine is in the garage. They seem to love threatening a chick in a small car. <br /><br />I am so childish!The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-53836672594221500812012-12-03T06:44:13.081-08:002012-12-03T06:44:13.081-08:00I am in awe of you. I have never had the courage t...I am in awe of you. I have never had the courage to voice my thoughts on others' driving stupidity, because I'm always terrified they'll have a baseball bat underneath their front seat.<br /><br />Those penis insults - BRILLIANT.Hannahhttp://wayfaringchocolate.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-12129536417356756262012-12-02T06:20:08.442-08:002012-12-02T06:20:08.442-08:00What?! You're such a tease, Cat.What?! You're such a tease, Cat. Averil Deanhttp://averildean.wordpress.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-38134760047444087942012-12-01T01:29:00.281-08:002012-12-01T01:29:00.281-08:00I'm a slowish driver, although it depends. I l...I'm a slowish driver, although it depends. I love mountain roads at dawn best. No traffic. I once had a boyfriend who told me I should drive faster. 'Ill teach you' he winked. <br /><br />It was over.<br /><br />Thanks for dropping by Fiona. I am loving those red locks!The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-11181401740138357312012-12-01T01:26:00.967-08:002012-12-01T01:26:00.967-08:00Oops typos put ya caffè down cat!
Averil you ju...Oops typos put ya caffè down cat! <br /><br /> Averil you just wait till I tell you my how-I-broke-my-rib story.The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-377399654723891232012-12-01T01:23:14.023-08:002012-12-01T01:23:14.023-08:00Don't worry Gwen I hadn't picked him up ye...Don't worry Gwen I hadn't picked him up yet. Now that they are older they try to discourage my rants. Well, maybe I rant less. I WISH I ranted less. Xcat The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-31492283683101777932012-12-01T01:21:08.532-08:002012-12-01T01:21:08.532-08:00This comment has been removed by the author.The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-17910156983544073682012-12-01T01:19:34.611-08:002012-12-01T01:19:34.611-08:00Oh la la! Oldies in Cannes. You're lucky you d...Oh la la! Oldies in Cannes. You're lucky you didn't get your paintwork scratched with the bling. We have lots of contadini driving with their hats on around here - always steer clear. And I in town I got caught between two traffic lights where there were roadworks and a kindly gent standing there yelled 'Se tu orba?!' Are you blind??<br /><br />Aiuto. Help.The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-21185688530828779312012-11-30T18:49:42.070-08:002012-11-30T18:49:42.070-08:00Driving with my uterus? No, but you signore, are ...Driving with my uterus? No, but you signore, are obviously talking with your penis! Thinking with it, even. Too bad it's too small for a coherent thought, otherwise you'd know you'd best not mess with a redhead!<br /><br />I've never driven in Europe, and most of the populace is on their knees right now thanking God. I'm a fast driver, but I consider myself to be careful. My husband calls me aggressive and dangerous. But at least I don't talk on the cell phone or text. I just drive...fast. The only exception is when there are kids around, in which case I'm the slowest most careful woman in the queue. To husband and sons' chagrin I can parallel-park in one swing a suburban (read: tank) one-handed while I drink coffee with the other. I hate men who think their package makes them a better driver. That's never been my observation. <br />Fiona McGierhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13495707848048468428noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-11610577199670184382012-11-30T09:44:56.305-08:002012-11-30T09:44:56.305-08:00Catherine I'm sitting here with my mouth open,...Catherine I'm sitting here with my mouth open, not sure whether to laugh or reach through the IPhone screen and try to "high-five" you.<br />Good for you that you stood up to that uterus-insulting gentleman and I can't help but wonder what your son thought. Maybe something like, "you shouldn't mess with my momma!"<br />Leslie (Gwen Moss)Leslie Harrishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06367872267145012395noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-11503291345329448872012-11-30T06:38:45.321-08:002012-11-30T06:38:45.321-08:00I have no stories that can even touch the Uterus v...I have no stories that can even touch the Uterus vs. Penis showdown. Holy moly, I'm cracking a rib over here. Poor old guy didn't know whose uterus he was dealing with.Averil Deanhttp://averildean.wordpress.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-80356081874486066672012-11-29T21:11:55.444-08:002012-11-29T21:11:55.444-08:00Yes I do agree, the box can bring out the worst in...Yes I do agree, the box can bring out the worst in us.. Add a bad driver in front to a bad day and you have bad language!<br /><br />Mine tends to come out in Italian (ormai), but English provides some great slammers that are probably safer legally but best muttered.The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-32642405693987456782012-11-29T11:31:59.850-08:002012-11-29T11:31:59.850-08:00May I just add the woman was not EVER in any dange...May I just add the woman was not EVER in any danger of being hit - it was the fact she EXPECTED me to stop 'just for her' when it takes 10 times longer to get anywhere down that particular street than any other :)Ingridhttp://www.dreamlifeofmine.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-27801328260922250172012-11-29T11:29:45.644-08:002012-11-29T11:29:45.644-08:00Ha loveit!
In France - Cannes to be precise the p...Ha loveit!<br /><br />In France - Cannes to be precise the pedestrians would give me road rage! I have no problem stopping for peds on crossings go ahead please - but there was a woman who decided she was crossing 10m in front of the provided crossing and I saw her and rather than stop and let her pass I continued on to the crossing. she hurled abuse bashed the side of the car and my side window I was flabergasted! Peds in Cannes do my head in I always joke about how many I can mow down in one trip to the market!! Film festival and height of summer is the absolute worst!!!<br />But I completely sympathise with you with the woman mowing you down at the crossing - completely out of order!! <br />Similarly to you I was abused by some 'penis' as I parked on the very corner of a street recently as I was with the Grandmother and we had 3 children to pick up and still a bit of a walk. Not speaking the local lingo I just shrugged my hands at him and indicated there was plenty of room for him to get his weener down the street :)Ingridhttp://www.dreamlifeofmine.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-6107950986675234392012-11-29T09:13:23.300-08:002012-11-29T09:13:23.300-08:00Very funny ... and also not so very funny! What a ...Very funny ... and also not so very funny! What a terrible thing to say to a lady!<br /><br />I found out that I am, when driving, talking (and worse) aloud in Dutch, commenting on all the bad drivers around me. It sort of keeps the stress down I believe, but often I am angry when I get out of my car. It seems the little (or not so little) box makes us (them!) very egoistic and unpleasant. <br /><br />Now I hope this talking in Dutch only takes place when I am driving ...<br />Willemijnhttp://villainumbria.wordpress.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-74003720995748956712012-11-29T09:01:48.831-08:002012-11-29T09:01:48.831-08:00That's exactly what I need to hear! That it...That's exactly what I need to hear! That it's not confined to Italy. Thank you to your distracted vicar's wife, who perhaps you should have boffed on the head with your giant rabbit??<br /><br />Was the apoplectic bloke driving an Audi?The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-55069184656303398262012-11-29T05:03:11.193-08:002012-11-29T05:03:11.193-08:00Crossing thing happened to me in Parma - I slammed...Crossing thing happened to me in Parma - I slammed my hand down on his bonnet & he looked apoplectic with rage as if I was at fault for nearly damaging his beloved car.<br /><br />Mind you, it isn't just Italians. I was back home in UK, carrying a giant toy rabbit (don't ask) when a lady vicar nearly hit me on a zebra crossing. I was so gobsmacked I didn't think to say til afterwards 'Keep your eyes on this world, not on the next'.Axemumhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02430583807819426189noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-53388265588237079612012-11-29T04:19:22.633-08:002012-11-29T04:19:22.633-08:00Yes I agree there has to be humour at the end of i...Yes I agree there has to be humour at the end of it. Otherwise you'd have a nervous breakdown. Or crazy blood pressure. I thinking pedestrian crossings are super dangerous!!The Divorced Lady's Companion to Living in Italyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15202093107784073194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-291389383714567128.post-44003353122009086562012-11-29T03:08:46.374-08:002012-11-29T03:08:46.374-08:00I love it! If someone shouted something like that ...I love it! If someone shouted something like that at me (which they won't because I refuse to drive, here), I probably would lean out and shout "Sììììììììììììììììììì!!!! Non hai visto, Vecchione?!" <br /><br />But your answers were so much better! :)<br /><br />I had a similar experience in a crosswalk - I was nearly all the way across on a fairly quiet road when a car screeched to a halt mere inches next to me (if *I'd* been any slower, I'd have been hit). There was no way they could have justifiably been unaware of my presence in the road.<br /><br />I stopped short and spun around, let loose an oh-so-ladylike "Che cazzo fai, stronzo???" and barely resisted the urge to bang on the window of said vehicle. They didn't answer back, just drove off.<br /><br />The fellow running the edicola next to the crosswalk was very kind, saying all sorts of sympathetic things to me while I selected my magazine. It wasn't until I got to work I realized just how close the whole thing had been. I was jelly-legged for a while afterwards, and furious. But I also saw the humor in it. (Too bad my hubby never does.)Kimberly Menozzihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09339575563935332543noreply@blogger.com