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Thursday, August 25, 2011

Earthquakes and Hurricanes

       I don't have a book review, because I'm too busy recovering from the scare a earthquake put into me. Unless you live under a rock, and haven't heard, the east coast had a nice little earthquake that sent everyone in NYC screaming hysterically up and down Broadway, including me. I wasn't running up and down Broadway screaming, but I tore out of the Federal Courthouse, where I was with my boss, trying not to scream hysterically. I didn't need to, my boss managed do enough hysteria for us both. Oh per l'amore di tutto che è santo, ho pensato intendevo morire.
      It wasn't the earthquake that terrorized everyone, especially in the courthouse, but what we thought it was, another attack, of 911 proportions. Since I was in the courthouse, listening to my boss argue his case, and keeping his notes and him straight on just what was going on when the quake hit. I just knew we were under attack, because hey, it's the Federal Courthouse, and a lot of folks besides terrorist in planes would like to see it leveled. It's ironic to see a fit man in his forties who works out EVERYDAY, and lectures his staff constantly on the benefits of a healthy diet, whenever we have a pizza party, run screaming like a girl out the door, with his cell phone, trying to call his wife, to say good-bye, mowing down his ever faithful paralegal, in the process. He knocked me flat on my ass, and was the first out the door, past spectators and the judge. I deserve a raise! Good thing I was wearing my court suit, the one I save for special occasions like earthquakes and hysterical bosses, where I'll end up looking at the ceiling. Odio il mio capo.
       P.I Sean was in the court room. Like a first grader he had handed me a note, which said, "Can we try again?" When the quake hit. Maybe God was trying to tell me something, ya think? Anyhoo, P.I Sean helped me up and out the door. When we got to the steps, he announced it was a earthquake. I don't how he could tell the difference. Everything was rattling and shaking, I guess that was a good indicator. He said he grew up in L.A, and he could tell. L.A really? I didn't know that...I guess on our little short date, we never got past office gossip to that he was from California.
        Just then fire rolls up, someone was having chest pains. And who should jump off the truck first, but-what for it, drum roll, with Beethoven roaring in the background, Firemen Frank. He asked me if I was okay, very sweet. Then whispered to me, he wanted to talk to me soon. Okay, I whispered back about what? Well of course he had to save a life and not whisper anymore to me, so he said we'd talk. Okay, about what? 
       Regardless of Firemen Frank's weird behavior, I felt kind a special, with two guys looking out for me as my crazy boss ran down the street, confessing all his sins to his wife. I wonder how dinner was that night, when he realized he was very much alive and well. To be a fly on the wall for that one!  
     I'm still recovering from the shock it was mother-nature and not some crazed terrorist bent on wiping out NYC. So no book this week.. And I wonder what Firemen Frank wanted, as P.I Sean watched us. I still have the note, and thinking about it. La pazzia di tutto. 
       On the way back to the office with my consistently hysterical boss, now more worried about his confessions, then the possibility of a attack, who was probably hoping for some disaster so he wouldn't have go home, I had a message from Nona, who wanted me and the family to gather at her house tonight, to prepare for disaster. I could see her sitting on her front stoop with her aircraft artillery ready, decked out like Rambo, planning out how we'll hunker down for the hurricane coming our way. Farà Dio ogni fermata che punisce me?

Vederla sul retro
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Monday, August 22, 2011

Another disastrous date or maybe not

     Okay, my friend decided after my last disastrous date with P.I Sean, that I was on a streak of bad luck with men. Oh really, ya think?  Oh, l'umanità di tutto!
     Soooo, her little brave soul decided I needed to meet her brother’s friend. I said no blind dates. The last was with Clark. No self respecting Italian mother names her kid, Clark! And the date was as stupid as his name. This time, I wanted e-mails. Yes, I was going, the let’s get to know each other on-line, where we can really lie through our teeth, because we can’t see each other, and use model pictures to cover up the lack of exercise for months, no let’s say years, route.
     Girlfriend assured me, he wouldn’t lie to me and he was in great shape. Uno può sperare solo! Oh, yeah, prove it. How well do you know this guy? Or did you meet him at your parents when he dropped by to watch football with said brother, who is a big loser. Still, with all this, it didn’t detour me from wanting to have a computer between us on the first official meet. I had heard all about computer dating, or meeting and decided it was time to experience it. As long as it didn’t include a police report, I was there.  
     So our communication went on for a couple weeks, until, computer-guy asked me to meet for drinks after work. Again at an Italian restaurant! What’s with these guys taking an Italian to Italian restaurants!? Come on, it’s NYC! I think there are a couple other types of eateries. Really, just a few, I’m sure we can find something, that doesn’t serve what I eat every Sunday.
    But I digress, I meet him at the same place P.I Sean dragged me out of, to chase a cheating husband he was paid to catch cheating!  The place does get great reviews. I was hoping to actually be able to taste my mushroom ravioli’s this time.
    We met, and hey, he looked just like his picture. I prodigi di volontà mai fermano!  Really, just like it. A bit of a exaggeration on his height. I'm taller then him. A little frumpy around the edges. He's a computer geek, so it comes with the job title. But not bad. I still think we're off to a good start. We do the air kiss thingy, and shake hands, and exchange  DNA in that instant, because he was dripping wet, with sweat. Yep, he’s just a bit nervous. Just a bit, I keep telling myself. It’s hot outside, its stuffy in the bar, but not like we’re sweltering in Texas.  
    I get a table for us, because the bar is crowded. I had gone to the restroom which passes the kitchen, and dropped in to say a few things to the chef. We conversed in Italian. Ka Bow, we get a table. Computer-guy is impressed.  I really needed to be able to hear computer-guy talk, since he wouldn’t look at me. I think I had a giant hair growing out of my forehead or wart on my nose. So yes, I cheated to jump ahead on the wait list. Sorry, but not really.
    But-that’s where it ends. I try everything to get computer-guy out of his shell. I tell him about the tire incident, the battery incident, Nona and my brother’s wedding, chasing the dog down the street with knife incident. I decided to leave out my ex left me for a man, situation, TMI at that point. He’s pushing his campanili around on his plate, and nodding and smiling. Okay, I’m laughing, by myself. Not working, I'm rapidly running out of incidents and police reports.  
    We end the date, more air kisses. He puts me in a cab. He's pretty impressed with the address I gave the cabbie. I do have to remind computer-guy, I'm from Jersey, like that would make a difference on the outcome of the date. Anyhoo, I go to Henry’s down a bottle of wine, and whine about computer-guy and men in general. The wine was a bad idea, had to go to work the next day. 
     Since then I get regular e-mails from computer-guy. It’s kind of cool. I can meet up with him, without make-up, in my pj’s, eating my left over mushroom ravioli, typing with my mouth full, there is no exchange of DNA. And just think no man-dribbles on my toilet seat because he didn’t lift it! Amare esso!!

Vederla sul retro
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Thursday, August 18, 2011

The Inventor, by Morgan Karpiel


      I’m getting addicted to .99cents reads from Amazon. It really stretches my book budget, and The Inventor never disappointed. It introduced me to Steampunk, something I had never heard of before. Just in case you don't know what it is, it's a combination of Victorian setting, with modern science. Think Jules Verne. I bought it the day I was going to take my niece and nephew to the movies. The keyword here is, ‘was’.
      I’m still carless, and decided to take the kids off my mom’s hands for a few hours. Their visiting from upstate New York. I thought the movies would be a great adventure, at least for me. As life would have it, I had that adventure.
     Anyhoo, I borrowed Zio Serpico’s piece of junk to get the kiddies to the movies. I thought, it’s okay, we’re not going far. Well, we’re bumping along, only a couple of blocks from my parents house, and I felt a jerk coming from the rear, then a thud, as suddenly it felt lopsided, and then my nephew says, “Zia (aunt in Italian), a tire just pasted us.”  
      Oh kids and their imagination, I’m tell’n ya. Or I thought when suddenly a tire passes right in front of me. I feel the car slow, with a loud scrapping sound. The tire continued on its course, bouncing along in front of me, going at least 10mph faster. My niece is yelling, “Look Zia, there it goes.”
     "Ya, sweetie I see it," I said with a very sick feeling about all the noise coming from the rear. I look in the mirror, and see sparks flying from under the car. The tire is continuing to move down the street bouncing like a crazed chocolate doughnut on a mission of destruction, missing cars, people, a dog, makes a sudden right into a yard, right up the stoop's front steps, and crashed not just into the screen door, but threw it. Lots of screaming commences from the occupants of the house, which is where my high school prom date's parents live. He’s now in Riker’s for robbery, because of me. So this doesn’t look very good. I can’t stop the car, apparently the brakes failed, ran it up in the yard, and hit a little fountain, at which time water was spraying everywhere, including threw the floor board full of holes.
     The kids were thrilled. The only reason Alphonso’s mother didn’t whack me with a rolling pin, was because there would be witnesses in the form of my two fledgling cops in the backseat, describing everything in great detail to the responding officer, who happens to cutie Officer Javier, who hasn’t called me back since the dog incident. And once again, there is a police report with my name on it. Add it to the collection. I'm just praying Zio Serpico, has his insurance paid up. 
     Oh, but I digress, this is the first time I’ve ever read Steampunk. I didn’t even know what it was until I googled it after reading the reviews. It was a cool read, interesting and intelligent, with the way Ms. Karpiel, blended history with a more modern way of the looking at things. I’m not much of a history buff, but I was enthralled in this short read. I’m a fan now. For once I hit a series right, this is the first book, instead of my usual going backwards.
     Leda, Countess of Caithmore, is dumped by her husband. I can relate to that, accused of being overly fridge. So she looks for a cure in a friendship with a famous inventor, Ian Anderson. Who she hires to build a machine that will prove everyone wrong about her. And she really is a hottie inside and out. But there are some bad guys watching, and wanting to know what the inventor is up too. It adds a lot of suspense to the story. I loved it, and had a hard time putting it down. Leda, was a strong woman during a period where women were seen and most of the time not heard. I’m looking forward to the next one in the series. I think I’m hooked on Steampunk. It was a great read on a afternoon, when I needed a little steampunk, to help out.

I give this a #9, since I finished on the subway on my way to work on Monday. 
 

Monday, August 15, 2011

Take some lessons Snookie

     As a Jersey girl and Italian, I have a real dislike for Snookie and the gang from Jersey Shores. The reason, they make Italian American’s look shallow, stupid, partying drunks, and overly tanned. As much as the term Guido is not liked among most Italians, it does fit here. The girls are even called Guidettes. Sorry, it fits.
      My biggest complaint besides their habit of behaving very badly in front of cameras, the public and most recently in Florence, is their fashion sense, or lack of. Yes, they have set the stage for such shows as Jerseylicious, and Jersey Housewives, which don’t help the image much either, with the big hair, the weird costumes, and ridiculous spending habits. At least among the housewives, it’s rumored a couple of them are broke, because of over spending on all the glitz. Come’on, they get paid big bucks for the show. How can you go broke!? I guess when you have a party for a baby with a live person representing Marie Antoinette serving up food, while in the middle of table, with her dress as the table cloth, it can happen. 
     I don’t know any self-respecting Italian who would think of wearing anything any of these women do from any of the shows. If you’re seen walking down the street like that, someone would probably try to direct you back over the bridge to south Bronx. I’m sure not just a few cars would pull over and offer $20 bucks for a blow job.
      Recently, I was at the movies with my niece and nephew. It’s hot outside, so I’m in shorts, flip flops, and a tank. With the humidity, my hair is in pinned up mess on my head, and light make-up. Okay, I won’t go out without it. We’re in line for popcorn and in front of me is two women, taking their kids to see the same show, in stilettos, short skirts, nearly showing off ones ass, and huge hair. Ya think they are fans of one or all the shows? One is wearing of all things a bustier, with her cleavage popping out of the top. Her earrings go down to her navel, and so much make-up, I’m sure I could scarp it off with a spatula. Damn that's tough on the pores The other is in a tank top, ten sizes too small, with her mid-section showing. Now remember they’re going to a kiddy show, not a club, and they’re not that young. Everyone is just staring at them, looking around for cameras, because this can’t be real. No cameras, only the influence of Olivia and Tracy from Jerseylicious, with Snookie in the background.  Damn, putting soooooo much effort into going to the show, is way too much work for a hot afternoon spent with kids in the dark. I mean whose going to care? Oh, maybe all the dads, who were ogling their behinds, and the moms giving them a good whack to keep their eyes to themselves. Come’on!  It’s a kiddy show…It was the Smurfs for crying out loud!
      Recently, I saw the cover of W magazine with Kristin Stewart on the cover in a retro-60ish style. Ya know she looked fab..She had the make-up with the big hair, but it was done so well, I hope that Snookie and her gal pals, call up the Jerserylicious girls, who tell the housewives about it, and might try to tone it down a bit, and let the tanning spray fad. I know I’m thinking, maybe the next time I go out to a club, I might give it a try. Sophia Loren, here I come, I’ll do that.

Friday, August 12, 2011

The Black Eye

Hey all,

     Sorry for the absence. I’ve gotten lots of e-mails asking where I’ve been. Well, first I got sick with a bad flu that kept me in bed puking in a bucket for few days.  Nona showed up with chicken soup, which helped. What didn’t help she decided to clean my apartment, and almost, let James T. Parakeet out the window.  She did laundry, and I still can’t find my biancheria intima.
      Then on the day I was feeling better my sister Lucinda moved into my apartment. Chaos rained like a downpour. Pure and simple chaos. Then Lorenzo decided to cook. He just started culinary school and now thinks he's Bobby Flay. If he wants to stay on my good side, he better be able to cook like him. 
      Anyhoo, he slams his knife into the pit of an avocado, all chef like. Attempts to pop that baby out, and it came loose alright. A little too much muscle big guy. His arm flew back, pit attached to the knife, let loose and slapped me right in the eye. It was kind of hard to explain to the emergency room nurse I was attacked by avocado pit.
       I had one hell of a nice shiner. Haven’t had one like that since I got into a cat fight with Olivia Cano in the eighth grade, over Paulie Gaffaloni. Paulie wasn’t worth the trouble I got into, or the black eye Olivia gave me.  They're married now, and Olivia looks like she's had three kids in four years. 
       This time my eye was black, blue and swollen shut. I couldn’t see, which meant I couldn’t write. It hurt too much to open my eye. I honestly, felt sorry for Lorenzo, he’s already on the bad side of the Russo’s and this didn’t help. My brothers were gunning for him, literally. He won’t show up to Sunday dinner for awhile, much to my pop’s joy.
     Now like the avocado pit my eye is kind of greenish and yellow, sort-a-rainbowish.
     I’ll be back next week, in full swing with opinions, books and a jaundice eye. 

Vederla sul retro
Cari

Monday, August 1, 2011

Obama & Boehner, come on!

     Okay, I’m getting little tired of hearing about this debt thingy. I’m not a politico, like I’ve mentioned before, but this is on all the time. What I think in my non-politico self, is, Obama and Boehner, need to pull their heads out of their asses, and just do it. This is soooooooooooooo, stupid, I can’t stand it.
        Nona was born in Naples and came to America when she married my Granddad, who was in the Army at the time. She became a citizen so she could vote for JFK. She has voted in every election since, both national and local. She never skips. There are millions of stories like hers. And millions more who rely on social security like she does. She always worked since the day she hit these shores, and earned every penny of her social security. It’s hers…Now she may not get it, because of three parties who are thinking only of themselves and a election.
     They say if they can’t agree on a budget, then people won’t get their social security, and of all the people, these are the ones who need it the most.
     So Obama and Boehner, stop playing politics and get the damn job done. And while you're at it, tell the Tea Party to suck eggs.  Don’t forget if you fail, it will be people like Nona who will pay the price.

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