This is what I looked like in September 2005, 2 weeks after our car crash. For those of you who don't know it, my arm was broken above the elbow and my face was broken in 5 places.
August 25th 2007
Progress at last!!
One: my boss actually came to work yesterday. Even though I didn’t get to speak to him, I think you must admit that this is a huge step forward.
Two: I have managed to steal Internet from one of my grandma’s neighbors! Praised be Mac, amen. Granted, the connection only works with me standing in the Western-most corner of my grandma’s bedroom, preferably with the computer raised as high as possible towards the ceiling, but still, I call this a definite victory over the evil forces of Murphy!
Three: I managed to wrestle the promise of a future appointment from my lawyers.
Let me explain. My lawyers are father and son, although the father is officially retired for health reasons and only acting as “counsel” on our case. He has lung cancer, which doesn’t prevent him from smoking 2 packs a day, of course. Preferably while blowing the smoke into our faces. The son is young and handsome, and clearly overwhelmed by the job.
The case is the near fatal car-crash my mother and I were involved in nearly 2 years ago. We are now finally getting ready to sue the woman who ran a red light and rammed into our cab at 90 miles/hour. But our lawyers are cutting it very close, because once the 2 years are up (on September 14th to be precise), we no longer have the right to file a claim and must start all over again with a totally different procedure. Don’t ask me why. This is Greece, remember?
Anyway, the son doesn’t often pick up his cell phone, and certainly not during the last 2 weeks, when he had taken what he felt to be a well-deserved vacation (from us was implied but not said). When I finally reached him earlier this week, he replied in a world-weary voice that clearly reflected the immeasurable effort it was simply to speak to me on the phone. Yes, he sighed, we would at some point get together to go over the final points before the deadline was past. He would call me. I had clearly overstepped my boundaries by calling him first, even though I hadn’t heard from him in 3 months. So I said goodbye and hung up, feeling guilty for the ordeal I was putting him through.
This time I was slightly better prepared. How was his holiday, I asked? “Let’s say it wasn’t too bad”, he wheezed, and politely asked me about mine. “I haven’t had any, yet,” I replied with a savage glee typical of a true Greek. “I’ve been running after my maybe-boss, my Greek nationality, and you.” I had the satisfaction to hear the veneer of weariness falter, and he was startled enough to promise we would meet soon.
Victory, I tell you.
-----
SOME FEEDBACK ABOUT THIS NEWSLETTER:
Guillermo R:
Laura...you're a very good writer...i'm totally hooked to your Greek travails...these e-mails of yours are so entertaining...it's like my daily soap opera at work..."the misadventures of Laura in Greece, lets read today's episode"...he he...
Marc G:
Good job laura, you have to admit, we all become a little spoiled here in LA, nothing toughens you uplike a little Mediterranean bureaucracy, after dealing with Telecom Italia, hollywood seems an easy nut to crack...
Progress at last!!
One: my boss actually came to work yesterday. Even though I didn’t get to speak to him, I think you must admit that this is a huge step forward.
Two: I have managed to steal Internet from one of my grandma’s neighbors! Praised be Mac, amen. Granted, the connection only works with me standing in the Western-most corner of my grandma’s bedroom, preferably with the computer raised as high as possible towards the ceiling, but still, I call this a definite victory over the evil forces of Murphy!
Three: I managed to wrestle the promise of a future appointment from my lawyers.
Let me explain. My lawyers are father and son, although the father is officially retired for health reasons and only acting as “counsel” on our case. He has lung cancer, which doesn’t prevent him from smoking 2 packs a day, of course. Preferably while blowing the smoke into our faces. The son is young and handsome, and clearly overwhelmed by the job.
The case is the near fatal car-crash my mother and I were involved in nearly 2 years ago. We are now finally getting ready to sue the woman who ran a red light and rammed into our cab at 90 miles/hour. But our lawyers are cutting it very close, because once the 2 years are up (on September 14th to be precise), we no longer have the right to file a claim and must start all over again with a totally different procedure. Don’t ask me why. This is Greece, remember?
Anyway, the son doesn’t often pick up his cell phone, and certainly not during the last 2 weeks, when he had taken what he felt to be a well-deserved vacation (from us was implied but not said). When I finally reached him earlier this week, he replied in a world-weary voice that clearly reflected the immeasurable effort it was simply to speak to me on the phone. Yes, he sighed, we would at some point get together to go over the final points before the deadline was past. He would call me. I had clearly overstepped my boundaries by calling him first, even though I hadn’t heard from him in 3 months. So I said goodbye and hung up, feeling guilty for the ordeal I was putting him through.
This time I was slightly better prepared. How was his holiday, I asked? “Let’s say it wasn’t too bad”, he wheezed, and politely asked me about mine. “I haven’t had any, yet,” I replied with a savage glee typical of a true Greek. “I’ve been running after my maybe-boss, my Greek nationality, and you.” I had the satisfaction to hear the veneer of weariness falter, and he was startled enough to promise we would meet soon.
Victory, I tell you.
-----
SOME FEEDBACK ABOUT THIS NEWSLETTER:
Guillermo R:
Laura...you're a very good writer...i'm totally hooked to your Greek travails...these e-mails of yours are so entertaining...it's like my daily soap opera at work..."the misadventures of Laura in Greece, lets read today's episode"...he he...
Marc G:
Good job laura, you have to admit, we all become a little spoiled here in LA, nothing toughens you uplike a little Mediterranean bureaucracy, after dealing with Telecom Italia, hollywood seems an easy nut to crack...
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