Love Is My Religion

Ok, so I am a fan of the Ziggy - in fact I have fond memories of some of my summer nights back home camping with friends on beautiful sandy beaches listening to 'Tomorrow People' and 'love is the only law'. And so today I have a new favorite and I would like to share it.

Love this tune.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

I must say that even though I am very congested and can't stop sneezing; even though I can't feel parts of my body due to the freezing temperature which I'm obviously unfamiliar with; even though I've slipped and fallen on my ass too many times to count; even though I am unable to drive due to the fact that my vehicle is buried under the snow so perfectly that my neighbours thought Vinnie and I built a snow-car instead of a snow-man (and high-five us) I still find the snow has added to this city in a lovely and picturesque sort of way, but now I want it gone.

I enjoyed myself while playing snow fight with my brother and my son for the whole 20 minutes we were outside, not to mention my brother "once again" hit me on the head so hard with a snow ball (though it felt more like a bocce ball) that my head almost flew off my body - another attempt on his part to have me permanently silenced, or decapitated.

But what I like most during this snowy period is the bus ride to work because God knows that driving in this weather for me would be like driving under the influence. I can't begin to tell how extremely enjoyable the bus ride was this morning, besides, what better way to get acquainted with the folks of Victoria than to be pushed tightly close like sardines on the public transit. Nothing better than to have several strangers breath, cough, sneeze on your face and stepping on your feet repeatedly.

I have to say, the highlight - and I mean what really made my day was this "lovely" young woman who was slightly ahead of me on the bus and whom was continuously chewing on something with her mouth wide open. I caught myself staring endlessly and I just couldn't look away, it's as if she had hypnotized me - put me under some sort of spell. All in all it was a fabulous experience but regrettably, all I have now are mere memories.

Ahhhh, the joy of "jam-packed" human contact.

26 days to Christmas and as far as I can tell I've obviously already fallen into the spirit of the season...

and on that note:
http://www.killsometime.com/Video/video.asp?ID=398

Spontaneous Combustion

I don't know why but I absolutely love this commercial - from start to finsih, I laugh every single time I watch it.

La Vita non e' sempre Bella ma bisogna avere Fede

Oggi sono stanca. Oggi ho voglia di tornare alle mie radici. Oggi ho voglia di mandare a fanculo tutti e tutto. Oggi ho voglia di non sentire. Oggi ho voglia di non essere.

A volte mi domando il perche' di tanti sacrifici quando poi non si e' capiti o apprezzati. Mi guardo intorno e mi accorgo che nelle nostre vite mondane, confuse e piene c'e' tanto vuoto. Le cose importanti stanno piano piano sparendo e siamo circondati da tanta falsita', ipocrisia e leggerezza e le cose materiali sono le cose d'importanza; diamo peso alla quantita' e non alla qualita'.

A volte mi sento un pesce fuor d'acqua - un pesce che ha perso il suo corso e non fa altro che nascondersi dagli squali che cercano di farsene preda. Siamo messi alla prova in continuazione, a volte siamo invincibili e a volte perdiamo ancor prima di provare. A volte abbiamo una mano vicina che ci solleva, e a volte ci dobbiamo alzare da soli. A volte vogliamo evadere e trovare solitudine perche' si ha voglia di essere con se stessi, con i propri pensieri, con le proprie lacrime.

La vita non e' sempre bella ma bisogna sopravvivere; arrendersi sarebbe facile e sono spesso tentata ma non e' questo che Dio ci insegna. Dio ci insenga ad amare, ad essere e a non abbondonarsi perche' anche nei momenti piu' scuri e difficili Lui ci e' vicini quando nessun'altro lo e'.

In questi ultimi mesi sento un bisogno tremendo di Dio, sento il bisogno di avvicinarmi, di capire e di credere piu' che mai. La verita' e' che senza di Lui nulla avrebbe senso e abbondanarsi non sarebbe una decisione cosi' difficile. Ma io ho Dio. Ce l'Ho nel mio cuore, nella mia vita e nelle mie decisioni, anche se a volte le mie decisioni non sono sempre giuste. Sono alla ricerca di qualcosa ma non so cosa. Forse vorrei trovare pace con me stessa, serenita' e fiducia nell'essere umano; la semplicita' e bonta' umana sono le cose piu' rare oggi giorno e questa cosa mi urta incredibilmente. Ho bisogno di Dio, ho bisogno che Lui mi aiuti a trovare la strada - che Lui mi sia vicino nel cammino. Ho bisogno di un sorriso, ho bisogno di un'abbraccio ed ho bisogno di sapere che non stiamo distruggendo cio' che ha importanza e che l'amore caldo umano ancora esista.

Mi rendo sempre piu' conto che i diavoli sotto forma di essere umani ci circondano, ci tentano e ridono a farci del male. Il male si sente ma non bisogna farsi sconfiggere - bisogna lottare perche' il bene previene il male anche quando non sembrerebbe. La verita' e' che se non hai Dio non hai niente.

Essere umani significa non essere perfetti, significa sbagliare, significa essere fragili - l'importante e' imparare ad accettare le cose che non hanno senso, imparare che nella nostra fragilita' possiamo trovare la forza di cento cavalli e la cosa ancora piu' importante e di non perdere speranza, MAI.

Non sono perfetta, ed oggi sono fragile, ma Qualcuno mi ha sollevata e mi ha ridato la speranza. IO CREDO.


Il Signore Non
permetterà mai che il maligno possa
vincere su di noi
Egli non ci
farà mai sprofondare nelle sabbie mobili
ma sempre
Ci passerà un ramo
e noi dobbiamo solo aggrapparci a Lui con
Fede
Perché poi al resto ci
penserà tutto Lui….
Basta che sempre
crediamo in Lui
E così poi….
lo rivediamo in tutto il Suo Splendore

Unconditional Love

[From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly]

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay For their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.

But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in Marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a Wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and Pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day.

Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back Mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. On a bike. Makes Taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life.
This love story began in Winchester , Mass. , 43 years ago, when Rick Was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him Brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.

"He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life;'' Dick says doctors told him And his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. ``Put him in an Institution.''

But the Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes Followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the Engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was Anything to help the boy communicate. ``No way,'' Dick says he was told. ``There's nothing going on in his brain.''

"Tell him a joke,'' Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a Lot was going on in his brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed Him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his Head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? ``Go Bruins!'' And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the School organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, ``Dad, I want To do that.''

Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described ``porker'' who never ran More than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he Tried. ``Then it was me who was handicapped,'' Dick says. ``I was sore For two weeks.''

That day changed Rick's life. ``Dad,'' he typed, ``when we were running, It felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!''

And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly Shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

``No way,'' Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a Single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few Years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then They found a way to get into the race Officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the Qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, ``Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?''

How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he Was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick Tried.

Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii . It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud Getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you Think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? ``No way,'' he says. Dick does it purely for ``the awesome feeling'' he gets seeing Rick with A cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best Time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world Record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to Be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the Time.

``No question about it,'' Rick types. ``My dad is the Father of the Century.''

And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a Mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries Was 95% clogged. ``If you hadn't been in such great shape,'' One doctor told him, ``you probably would've died 15 years ago.'' So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass. , always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.

``The thing I'd most like,'' Rick types, ``is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once.''

Amos Lee - Keep it loose, keep it tight

Recently discovered this artist and I'm hooked. I love his voice, his lyrics, his music. If anyone out there has not heard some of his tunes here's a little taster to whet your appetite. I hope you enjoy as much as I do.

BREATH LIFE INTO AN OLD STORY

Sometimes, as I lay down on my bed, or while driving to work, I wish that I could transfer the dozen of thoughts that rush through my brain right onto paper. I often catch myself by surprise once I have realized that I unexpectedly had an engaging, perhaps philosophical thought and the way in which my brain verbalizes it at that particular moment can never be fully duplicated when I actually go to put it down (type it up). I hate that. I feel like my brain has these little spells of “genius” and I am not capturing them properly. Why?

Well, nothing “genius” in this blog, I’m afraid;)

Life in the last couple of months seemed to have rushed by me so damn quickly. Granted things have been extremely hectic both at home and at work, feeling at times as if I was in a heated jungle filled with psychotic monkeys jumping erratically around me. Nonetheless, time is without a doubt going by faster. It doesn’t necessarily bother me as long as I remember what I’ve done or how I’ve felt, but if I find that I have scattered memories of my days then, and only then, I feel somewhat melancholic. I can’t pretend to be the type of person that ‘savours’ every minute of her day but I certainly pay attention to details and try to build a more generally solid whole to better who I am. Clearly I don’t always succeed and mistakes are often made but I can confidently say that as flawed individual as I am, my fractured heart still beats in the right direction and I’m still more human than I give myself credit for.

I was driving to work the other morning and as I’m slowing down on Shelbourne Street my eyes suddenly fell on this 9ish, maybe ten-year-old, girl who’s walking on the sidewalk. She glanced around quickly and then fell on her knees to fill her hands with an assortment of brown leafs which she lifted high in mid air only to let those same leafs fall all over herself. I saw, in that particular moment, a naive look in her eyes I once shared and for a split second I was envious and longing for that same ‘carefree’, ‘debonair’ mental state. I guess at 34, slightly cynical, I am not naive anymore but I am still able to see that life IS beautiful. After all the punches, and the tears, and the disappointments we endure in the course of our days we can still find a way to appreciate this journey we’re on with a conviction that it doesn't end here. With the bad there is always some good and viceversa, even when we are temporarily blinded, or temporarily withdrawn from humanity and the world surroundings. The greatest gift of life (aside from the obvious: family, friends etc) is that tomorrow is a new day and we are given another chance.

Yesterday I spent a few hours with mamma and Heiddy. We went shopping for a bit (mamma, mi devi dare quella borsa di Chanel) and then made a stop by Zambri for a bite to eat. It was nice! My day started off on a low note and spending time with them brought back the sunshine in an otherwise thwarted day. Heiddy shared some candid, up lifting words with me, words that only those who truly care would share, and my mom, as always, has a way of taking away those monsters and restore peace and security in my heart. O, the love of a mother has great powers.

On another subject, I want to share some thoughts regarding the band ‘Pussycat dolls’ simply because I caught myself twice in the course of a week captivated by their videos. Although they have catchy songs I am definitely not going to rush out to the store to buy their CDs but I have to say their music videos are clever. All of their videos include heavy breathing, bouncing boobies and shaken’ booties; a cocktail of ingredients that [unfortunately] sells (whether we want to admit it or not). Beautiful, flawless bodies moving and curving in all kinds of sexy shapes – whoever is behind this band knows a thing or two about marketing, as well as the fact that this reality has existed for thousands of years.

In other news, I went to see “Death of a President” last night. There has been so much controversy about this movie that I had to check it myself. Although, it isn’t completely clear as to what the message of this movie is, I found myself thinking that perhaps it’s time to give Bush a break. By no means I am a Bush supporter – in fact quite the contrary, HOWEVER I can’t deny not agreeing with him on a couple of subjects and even if the motivation behind some of his policies is not well found we still need someone to prevent a colossal disaster from happening – which means, if not careful, democracy and freedom will fade away, and not because of George Bush.

Oriana Fallaci, a great Italian journalist and historian who had very strong opinions when it came to Bush and wars and the west and Islam, once said: “The moment you give up your principles, and your values, you are dead, your culture is dead, your civilization is dead. Period.”

I don’t stand behind those pacifists’ radicals who are out there screaming for peace in the comfort of their “democratic” country and contribute to the resurgent antisemitism, crying only over Palestinian deaths while playing down Israeli deaths. Undeniably a life is a life, always, but wouldn’t you want to see a Tyrant who's threatening your freedom and the freedom of your children gone? Did anyone cry when Hitler [presumably] shot himself? The unfortunate thing here is that unlike the fascism movement where we could ultimately pin point one individual, today we have a party which hides their barbarian actions behind a religion, a religion that teaches hate and violence.

http://www.giselle.com/oriana.html

http://www.opinionjournal.com/editorial/feature.html?id=110003191

Well, I think I’ll sign off on that note, hoping and dreaming of a better/safer world for my child, for all our children; hoping for more kindness and less anger, for more compassion and less loneliness; hoping for the realization of mankind that peace doesn’t come without some objectionable actions.

“Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can.”

For all the moms out there...

What is a mother? Who shall answer this?
A mother is a font and spring of life,
A mother is a forest in whose heart
Lies hid a secret ancient as the hills,
For men to claim and take its wealth away;
And like the forest shall her wealth renew
And give, and give again, that men may live.

TI VOGLIO BENE MAMMA, TANTO TANTO TANTO.

In memory of those who perished in New York.

A "KISS": A pleasant reminder that two heads are better than one.

She seemed to melt against him in her terror, and he caught her in his arms, held her fast there, felt her lashes beat against his cheek like netted
butterflies.

Kiss kis,v.t.. to caress or salute with the lips: to touch gently.- v.i. to salute with the lips: to collide.-n. a caress or salute with the lips:

But Kisses can be so different. They can be loving, questioning, tender, passionate, aggressive, gentle, adoring, protective, jealous, funny, or even sad.

by Lynn Snowden

Never underestimate the power of the perfect kiss. Get it right, and the rest will fall into place.

It has been theorized that a woman decided within five minutes of meeting a man whether or not she will have sex with him. Possibly true, but there is one catch. Most women I know, myself included, may initially decide we'll have sex with a guy, but when we find out he's a bad or a mediocre kisser, we change our minds entirely. We decide we will never have sex with this guy. He won't even get asked for a nightcap, much less for breakfast the next morning. As our lips part while we stand on the doorstep, we will announce that we have an early-morning meeting or (if you were really awful) that we're actually already married to someone else.

What we will never, ever say is, "God, you're a lousy kisser. I was going to have sex with you until just this moment." This is one of the ways in which men and women differ. If a man is very attracted to a woman but discovers she's a bad or mediocre kisser, he'll probably have sex with her anyway if presented with the opportunity. A woman can't get past a bad kiss. (Unless, of course, she's a horrible kisser herself, but we're not talking about those women here.) Experience has shown most women that a bad kiss only spells trouble down the road, so to speak. After all, if he hasn't mastered kissing and fails to see its sensual possibilities, what hope is there for, ahem, anything else?

The disappointment of a bad kiss is a recurring topic of discussion among a group of single women I run with in the park several times a week. "It tuens into a fabric softener thing," says Nora, a blond from Dallas, when describing the previous night's date. "You know, where the guy kisses you and it's so bad but you've got to finish it up so your mind wanders and you start wondering if you have enough fabric softener to do two loads of laundry the next day?" She laughs. "So I'm thinking about that, and the guy says, "Wow! You're very passionate."

Oh, the egos we would crush if men could hear the post-mortems. If any guys happen to be running with us, they immediately demand to know what exactly constitutes a bad or good kisser. So we tell them about the all-purpose litmus test: A bad kisser, reguardless of whether he likes to secrete a gallon of drool or waggle his head like a dog menacing a bone, seems to be simultaneously thinking: " When can we get to step two? And three and four? Is she aroused yet? can I put my hand on her breast now?" He sees kissing as the next step on a carnal quest. The good kisser, however, sees the kiss as the destination itself. He kisses as if he will never do anything else with this woman, as if he never wants to do anything else with this woman. He kisses as if this is what he's been dying to do for years and he wants to savor every moment. I guarentee you that this is when the woman decides there will be other activities on the agenda.

The first thing to remember: When in Doubt, Go Slowly. make that first kiss slow and gentle and easy. While you may want to demonstrate that you're a cauldron of seething desire, save that for later, when you're both sufficiently warmed up. In the meantime, resist the urge to mash your face against hers so hard your teeth collide and she ends up with brush burns from your stubble. One woman in our running group actually passed out during a particularly bad kiss of this sort, when the man pressed his face to hers so tightly he blocked off her nose with his cheek, mistook her thrshing for passion, and suddenly felt her body go limp. "i was out for maybe thrity seconds," she says. "Fortunately, he had me in a bear hug, so I didn't hit the group. Of course, he thought I passed out because the kiss was so good." This is what's known as the Harrison Ford School of Making Out. Watch him in the movies,a nd watch his costar's face get twisted out of shape from the sheer force. this is also why they're panting afterward. It's not from desire, it's oxygen deprivation. So the second thing to remember while kissing is to make sure she can still breathe through her nose.

There are other movie stars who perpetuate bad kissing styles. There's the Tom Cruise Method (as seen in Top Gun), whereby his tongue is already slithering out before he's met her lips. This is also referred to as the Lizard-King Style, and once lip-locked, it may also feature the rather grotesque tongue-insterted-rapidly-in-and-out. Most women do not cherish the idea of kissing a large anaconda, which is what this must be similar to. Equally unappealing is when the guy's tongue seems to be on a thorough search for any food trapped between the woman's molars. This is her tongue's job, not yours. The only response possible is for the woman to open her mouth wide and remain motionless while he finishes his routing, a posture that calls to mind trips to the dentist.

Like good sex and great dancing, any tongue action should involve a give-and-take, with both parties allowed the opportunity for interaction in a saliva-laden minuet. Get into a groove with this, and every now and then you may want to stop for a short time while still joined at thelips. Like being on a dance floor and suddenly holding your partner motionless, it can have the galvanizing effect of heightening the sensation. this is ideally practiced in places like a dark booth in a dive bar with a great jukebox. Just make sure your sleeve doesn't catch fire from the candle on the table.

So although no one wants a tongue completely jammed down her throat, neither do we want its exact opposite, as favored by Woody Allen, one of the screen's all-time-worst kissers. Check out the last scene in Hannah and Her Sisters, and you'll see him pecking away at Dianne Wiest. This Road-runner-eats-birdseed style of dry, repeated kisses accompanied by inordinately loud smacky sounds is not what any woman fantasizes about--even if she's weird enough to fantasize about kissing Woody Allen. The occasional smacky sound is inevitable and can exciting, but go easy on the moaning and groaning. Its sounds fake at best and, at worst, like an unconscious habit, like tuneless whistling.

Daniel Day-Lewis belongs in the kissing hall of fame for Best Use of Hands. He gently caresses his costar's face and touches her hair, a model of how hands can increase the erotic pleasure of the moment. Bear in mind the hands should not be used to prevent the woman from going anywhere or to clamp her head into one uncomfortable position. Remember most women like men to toy gently with their hair. After decades of bad press about sticky hairsprays and helmet hair, most of us have been using products to enhance "touchability" and are favoring hairstyles that look good a bit tousled. So go ahead and touch hair. And quit using all that sticky hairspray and goo so we can go back to touching yours.

Finally, I offer this suggestion: Try opening your eyes. I once cautiously opened my eyes while kissing and saw a pair of brown eyes staring back at me, which made the kiss even better because it became more intimate. Some people find this to be an impossible task (like sneezing with your eyes open), but while the prevailing belief is that we must try to block out all other sensations, you may find that kissing with your eyes open is the sensual equivalent of making love with the lights on.

---

Salt Spring Island - North America's best small arts town

Well, I am finally able to sit in front of this computer after weeks of non-stop insanity and update my life in a public domain for everyone to see and read. Here is where I allow some of my thoughts and life adventures to leak out, but that hardly makes me egoistical…or does it?

I am currently sitting outside the Starbucks by Gyro Park. It’s about 6:30 p.m. and it’s a very nice evening. I have a ‘Grande’ banana frappuccino sitting in front of me (see picture above) and boy is it ever taaaasty. Yum. On that note…, today it is also day two of my new “gym” regime. Yes, those of you laughing out there who know how much I despise going to the “the gym” I have decided that it is time to begin getting in “better” shape. Of course normal people out there would do this before summer, NOT before winter! Anyway…. ohh, hang on…….ok, before I begin narrating about my Salt Spring vacation I have to mention that I just spotted an “online date” meeting. I’m no ‘expert’ but given the guy got here about ten minutes ago (I was checking him out) and had that nervous look as he sat down by the window and kept looking outside until just a few moments ago a cute girl with long dark hair, quite pretty, fairly fashion oriented just came in and..... noo nooooo, OMG what are you doing? She just shook his hand – For those of you out there doing the whole online dating thing (and I know NOTHING about it) NEVER EVER SHAKE hands when meeting in a public place, it’s a dead give away to people like me who are staring at you and it’s also so cheesy. Does a hug really frighten people? I mean, if you are interested enough in meeting him/her don’t you think he/she is worth a hug? A little human contact will do you good;)

Sorry, I totally went off subject AGAIN.

Alright, let’s move on and stop gazing at people who evidently have less pathetic lives at the moment than mine, though I have to say, I’m perfectly happy doing exactly what I’m doing right now, in fact, I may not be the next Aristotle but this (writing) is one of the few things that makes me happiest in life.

Salt Spring Island was great. Vinnie and I had an awesome time. I find it incredibly fascinating how easily a mother is able to pump a seven year old into believing that going to Salt Spring Island is going to be the vacation of his life time. What is even more fascinating is discovering that that same seven year old actually appreciates the beauty that Mother Nature has given us a lot more deeply than I had even given him credit for. My boy actually gets it, yeay:)

Our little vacation was from start to finish a ride of pure highs that not only will never be forgotten but also one that has marked another happy chapter in my life.

Vinnie and I began our adventure on Tuesday morning. We made a quick stop by “nonna’s house” for a quick ‘espresso’ and a few standard recommendations by my mom. It’s cute and I, as a mother myself, understand and simpathize. Motherhood is for life.

As usual the little road trip began with the digital camera at hand. I think I’m starting to annoy people with it so I’ve started becoming a little more discrete in pulling it out.

Once the little man and I got to Salt Spring we headed directly for the Blue Heron which is where we were staying. The B&B is about 8K from the town, way past St. Mary’s Lake. The drive was beautiful and of course I had to stop along the way to take some pics….

I’m also glad to report that I never once got lost though most of my friends said it is impossible to get lost on Salt Spring; however, some of those same friends also told me that it is nearly impossible to kill one of those little green bamboos plants…..guess what? My little bamboo plant is barely hanging:(
Ok, so I had to stop once to ask for directions and a couple of friendly guys were kind enough to help us out. I must say, everyone on the island seemed extremely friendly – must be the herbal green diet everyone seems to be on;)

Once we got to the Blue Heron we met Liz (the woman who runs the B&B) and she was a 60 some old gray hair delight. A retired elementary teacher who right away got on the good side of Vinnie when she gave him a bunch of beautiful rocks. Boys love rocks! Just the same way the love their back scratched. What’s with that? She told us that she’s never had a "mother and son" stay there and thought it was a pretty sweet thing. "What a great mom you have." she said to Vinnie as I smiled proudly to confirm what Vinnie already knows. Our cabin was unbelievable. She runs three cabins and they’re all separate from one another – completely private. We of course got the biggest one and it was just like a little log home. The place was complete of a living room, kitchen, bathroom and bedroom. The bedroom had this huge window that faced the ocean and the back of the cabin faced the forest. Nothing but us and beautiful tall green trees, the ocean and the smell of pure life. The bed was HUGE; king size though I swear it was even bigger than that, and sooooo soft. I must’ve thrown myself on it 100 times until I finally started getting a little light headed and nauseous;) Once we settled all our stuff we headed into town, browsed stores and walked by the water. We then started searching for a place to eat and found this restaurant called: La Cucina e Terrazzo (could it be Italian?). We sat on the patio which was right by the marina and we enjoyed some of the best pizza ever. Vinnie had a limonata and I had a glass of white vino. After dinner we went to this store where they sold all kinds of neat organic creams, stones and silver jewellery so Vinnie and I decided to buy a silver ring each as a momentum of our little vacation. He bought a thumb ring which he said I couldn’t wear because it’s too “manly”. Yes, if he doesn’t want me to use any of his things now he says: it’s too manly for you mamma. And of course he knows that I want to be anything BUT manly.

We drove and walked around exploring the Island and it is so beautiful and so peaceful. Even though I would admittedly never want to live there, I can appreciate the simpler way of life of the Islanders. We got back to our cabin around 9ish and decided to play cards and do some drawing. He then wrote about his day in his journal and after that he went to bed and fell fast asleep after a few of mamma's kisses and caresses. I then stepped outside the back porch to breath in the beauty and spend a little quality time with myself! I like doing that. I like being with myself. I sat outside and looked at the trees and the flowers and smelled the ocean and I honestly don’t know exactly how long I sat there but I caught myself wondering off to another dimension. It was one of those moments where you count your blessings and thank your lucky stars for putting you exactly where you are at that exact moment.

We had a great sleep. I woke up first (as usual) and sat in front of the window looking at the amazing view while drinking my espresso (yes, I brought my little espresso machine). The sun was rising, trying to kiss me through the window and the sky was clear and infinite.

Liz left some blueberry muffins outside our door (8 to be precise. How many people are staying here?) but Vinnie and I needed a little more substance than that so we went searching for a place to eat some real food (eggs eggs eggs). We drove by the golf course and decided to see if they served food. It was nice place. We sat outside watching people golfing while enjoying omelettes and ashbrowns (hmmm good). As we’re sitting there enjoying real food this woman in her mid 40s comes and sits beside our table. As she hears Vinnie and I talking she asks where we’re from (you know? my fake accent always attracts attention;). Her name is Laura, she’s an avid golfer and is there EVERY day and that was obvious since she knew EVERYONE. She and her partner have been living on the Island for nearly four years and love it. She seems to take a like to us and offers Vinnie some free Golf lessons which he’s very happy to take. She asked what our plans were and I told her I wanted to go sailing and was going to look into that at some point later in the morning. She tells us that there is a well known fellow who does that right by the marina who’s also the best sailor “in the world”. She gives us the name and then tells us to meet her there as she’s heading down as well to HER Boat. As she lights up her third cigarette since we met her she gets into her $40,000 convertible jaguar and we follow her down to the marina. We meet the fellow and his beautiful sailing boat and he tells us to be back around 1 p.m. as he’s waiting for two more tourists. We get invited to go and hang out on Laura’s boat while we wait and “Wow”, gorgeous boat.

The sun is hot and covering us with pleasant heat as we sit on her deck. Vinnie has been given the ok to browse around and even go downstairs as long as he doesn’t touch anything. COOL, it’s his response to that. Laura and I chatted for a while and exchanged emails as we said our goodbyes.

Vinnie was so excited to go sailing, the look on his face was full of puzzled excitement not sure what to expect. We sailed for four hours and never once did he complain. It was beautiful and at one point I laid down closed my eyes and escaped reality – for just a few minutes I felt like I was flying on top of the world.

We returned back to Ganges at around 17:30 and headed to “Teddy Bear burger” (or something like that) and had …..BURGERS. The owner was telling us how the name of the place came about and given that the joint is wall to wall covered with stuffed animals it was pretty clear. I guess it all began when someone broke in and stole a couple of teddy bears he had sitting on the counter and so people around town started bringing him new ones every time they went in to eat and so now he has tons of them. It’s cute. After that we went to the park and played on the swing for a bit. Shortly after a kid and his cowboy dad (I assume it was his dad) show up and so I tell Vinnie to go make a new friend since he too was playing by himself. I sat and watched him interact with his newfound buddy. It was sweet and so candid. At one point Vinnie falls from one of the slides and I can tell he’s kind of hurt but tries so hard to look cool in front of the other kid. Normally he would give me the sad look while tears escape him waiting for me to run to him to reassure him he’s ok and hug him and kiss him, but he’s growing and like most “boys” out there, he has to look tough in front of the other “boys”. He’s growing and I am so proud of himJ

As Vinnie is playing I see this long hair dude who as he walks by me says: hey sister, how goes? I smile genuinely but don’t make long eye contact because I don’t want to chat and luckily he keeps walking. Vinnie’s new friend is called away by his cowboy dad whom btw I call cowboy because this 6+ feet man was wearing a COWBOY hat, COWBOY boots, slick sunglasses and ass tight jeans. Not bad if you’re into that kind of look but the only time it ever worked for me was when I saw Brokeback Mountain with Jake Gyllenhall and Heath Ledger and unfortunately for my fantasies they both played gay characters - and I'm just a one man kind of girl.

So it’s now 20:00 or so and the prince and the queen (that would be Vinnie and me) decide it’s time to head back to the cabin and so off we go. On the way back we cranked Green day “time of your life” and sang along – it’s a guarantee that neither one us is going to try out for Canadian Idol anytime soon. Poor kid, he’s been cursed with my off-tune singing;)

Once home Vinnie runs off to update his journal and I had a nice, relaxing bubble bath in the large, shiny white tub, but not without asking Vinnie first to let me soak for a while without interruptions (if you have a child then you know that sometimes you need plead for a little quite time) to which he agrees with good intentions.

We spent the rest of the night sitting outside on the patio chatting and playing some cards (a game which Vinnie and I invented that requires minimal attention but that’s mostly based on poor sportsmanship…. and lots of laughter). At around 23:00 after a few mother/son candid chats I tuck him in and go outside. It’s dark and I start thinking that at any given moment a cougar or a bear could jump out of a tree and get me. Ok, maybe not but it’s thrilling thinking that it could happen.

Vinnie and I could easily have spent another couple of days over to Salt Spring; nonetheless we had an amazing time. We bonded, we laughed, we explored, bought bongos (which he played for me all the way back to Victoria), took a ton of pictures, met some interesting people and smoked a ton of weed… whaaaat? Mamma, relax. I’m just KIDDING;)

To view photos from this trip click on the link below:
http://farfalla1972.spaces.live.com/

Do you listen to the words?

I've often wondered how many people 'actually' hear the words of the songs they really like to listen to. I mean really pay attention to the words. I know for a fact that many don't. Anyway, I heard this song on the radio a couple of days ago called "If Everyone Cared" by Nickelback and granted I'm not a huge fan of this particular band when I got home I downloaded the song and then listened carefully to the lyrics just to be sure I had really gotten the words correctly. I love it. Beautiful lyrics - and I don't mean in a sappy, corny type way. If only we could all learn to view everything as a worthwhile experience and find time in each day to see beauty and love in the world around us, maybe, just maybe we'd all be able to feel life a little more intensely and therefore learn to care and sing along with everyone else.
I once read somewhere: "some moments in life are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some to be chewed and digested". Isn't that the truth!

If Everyone Cared Lyrics

From underneath the trees, we watch the sky
Confusing stars for satellites
I never dreamed that you'd be mine
But here we are, we're here tonight

Singing Amen, I, I'm alive
Singing Amen, I, I'm alive

If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
Then we'd see the day when nobody died

And I'm singing
Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive
Amen I, Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive

And in the air the fireflies
Our only light in paradise
We'll show the world they were wrong
And teach them all to sing along

Singing Amen, I, I'm alive
Singing Amen, I, I'm alive(I'm alive)

And as we lie beneath the stars
We realize how small we are
If they could love like you and me
Imagine what the world could be

If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
Then we'd see the day when nobody died

When nobody died...
We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day when nobody died

On Top of Mt. Doug

2006 In review on top of Mt. Doug

I'm on top of Mt. Doug, and I have the best seat in the house. I'm facing the ocean and the mountains and the world right now seems so calm and peaceful which makes it that much harder to believe that elsewhere it's a whole other story. Last week I got myself a laptop and I finally decided to test this baby out so I decided to come up on top of Mt. Doug for a little solitude and a little 'playing'. Already I can see how this is going to become a very dangerous addiction. I foresee myself doing a lot of this - going to places away from traffic noises, people and buildings where I can be alone with my thoughts and write, write, write. Woo hoo, I'm in heaven!

There is no one around right now, just little me; nature; birds and bees; ants who seems to find a way to crawl in and out my shirt; Barry White and this spectacular/breathtaking view! Ok, I have to say I'm no pot head (well not anymore anyway), but boy a little toke sure would make this particular moment a heck of a lot sweeter. I so need to be stoned!

The wind caressing my face and waving my hair around feel sooooo damn good. I'm holding on to this feeling for as long as I can...I so needed this. Of course when you're surrounded by all this beauty you can't help it but be inspired and get a little philosophical, and think a little deeper than you normally would.

So the deep thought right now is: where am I in life and how did I get here?
Well, I certainly know how I got here and it wasn't by a first class flight, in fact I'd compare it more to hanging on the wing of a very slow and beat up airplane that barely made the landing, but nonetheless, it landed. However, I can say confidently without a doubt, that I would do it all over again just to feel the way I am feeling this exact moment. By no means I'm the happiest girl on earth, specifically since these last few days have been very trying for me and I've been feeling a sense of loss and disappointment (I heard that George Clooney is gay) but of course these are also the moments in life that make us stop and think who we are, how strong we are and how lovely it is to be inside the liquor store;) If there is one thing I'm certain of right now it is that I've come a long way to become the person I am, love and appreciate (yes, with all my quirkiness as well as my not-so-good qualities-which are very few of course).

I guess this year started a little on the rocky side but I came out of it pretty good and with only a few scratches which are now completely healed, of course, we do have another 5 months or so to go before the end of 2006;) My divorce which ironically enough was effective on my birthday (May 19) gave me a sense of peace, and along with that came the feeling that I could finally move on, and so I did. Yes, I have a marriage on my shoulder but no regrets whatsoever and leaving him was the right decision for me. It wasn't easy and I was incredibly scared but I did it and I have never looked back. I have absolutely no regrets.

This year I also became a Canadian citizen and though [I will admit] I decided to do it primarily for convenience (so I didn't have to renew my Italian passport every time since it's truly a pain in the ass) I found myself, on the day I actually took my oath at the Governor house, feeling 'funny' inside. Everyone knows I don't cry easily but that day, I could've sworn a tear was about to slide out of my eye. I felt emotional and happy; I am now a Canadian. Of course, my roots, my love and passion come first and foremost from my bella Italia, but I couldn't be happier to also add Canada in my heart as it has certainly become a love of mine. For so long I had this 'love/hate affair with Canada and I guess It took me a long time to get here and learn to love this country, but I do, I really do. I guess the main reason why I struggled for so long was because so soon after I moved here my beautiful sister Chicca died and those were the darkest days of my life. The first days in Canada were the most horrible and I felt pain I didn't know I would ever feel. I guess I had to place the blame somewhere, and I so I blamed this country. I realized it was wrong but with time and maturity we learn to see things under a completely different light. I often wonder what she would be like today - with such outgoing and funny personality at the tender age of 2 and a half, I can only imagine she would have been the light of my life. I miss her!

All in all, I can comfortably say that I am today a pretty happy gal. I could use a few things (like......) but I can't complain. Looking back at the sad/tragic moments in my life (and there have been a few) I have learned that you need to move on and not dwell on the past but rather remember the happy times and there are plenty. I guess the key is realizing and accepting that life can't be happy all the time, (just turn on the news). It's ok to remember the sadder times in our lives as long as we dont'let them control our present and our future.

I can make myself have a miserable day as well as a fantastic one, only I have that power and although we often give that power to others, sometimes being the circumstances surrounding us, only we can turn things around. And so today I decided that I am going to have a fantastic day, and so far so good!

Dreaming of Home

This is an article I happened to read today and it's just one of the many I've been reading or hearing about lately. It just reminds me of how lucky most of us are, and how little we appreciate life. I'm also attaching a link with details on what's really happening but please be aware that some of the pictures are quite disturbing.

http://www.pierretristam.com/

"I went to sleep today, for the first time in days perhaps. In dreams, I thought, life could be better. For someone who has a lot of nightmares, my dreamland proved to be indeed better than reality. I was back with my family in our old Beirut home, sitting at the dinner table, my brothers eating in a hurry and then dashing off to play, and I remain with my parents, keeping them company and listening to their gossip. The food is magnificent and my parents' company, which I took for granted until the day I moved out of their house, is warm and comforting.
I woke up to hear that the White House declared the destruction of my homeland part of a Global War on Terror. Siniora is warning the diplomatic community that the collapse of his government, which they say they want to preserve, is unavoidable if the destruction continues. Michel Aoun, who with others in the country gave Hizbullah the legitimacy they did not deserve, now denies he's in contacts with them and acts like they're a liability he doesn't need. Aoun warned of a civil war should Israel continue to destroy army facilities, which he claimed were used to monitor arms smuggling by sea to extremist groups.
I immediately called my father in Lebanon. They're safe but the morale is low. There is no end in sight for their predicament, and my father is angry at those "Arabs" who left us again to die for them. I tell him about my fears about Lebanon becoming another Iraq, now that its destruction has become part of the infamous Global War on Terror. He tells me that people are indeed afraid this could lead into a civil war in the country. The Israeli attack would stop, but only when civil war starts brewing and eventually ignites, taking the pressure off of Israel. When the Israeli lords of war say they want to turn the clock back in Lebanon 20 years, then perhaps we should think in terms of a return to civil war. My father saw the evacuation of foreigners as a bad omen.
I told my dad, whose whole life was focused on protecting me and my brothers during the war, to stay safe. He said they weren't budging from their new house in the mountains, not that they could, even if they wanted to. After all, they're refugees in their own land.
I hang up and my wife calls me. I am on the verge of tears. In just a few weeks, Kais will come into this world. We were hoping he would be born in better times. I am praying that Kais sees his grandparents and uncles as soon as he's old enough to interpret images. He will, this I keep promising myself. Until he meets them, I will tell him to look for them in his dreams. I will tell him how every night in the bomb shelter, my father told us the story of a little boy who one day asked his father: "Baba, what should I do when I grow up?" The father goes through a list of professions and recommends a few lucrative ones. Those were my father's dream professions. And he ends his story: "You do whatever you want, my son, as long as you're happy and safe."
Kais will feel safe like I felt safe when my dad told us this story to the sounds of bombs. When my son is old enough, he will see how I picked one of my father's dream jobs, and then left it to pursue what made me happy. And that turned out to be not a job, but a wonderful woman from another country, and a wonderful baby boy.
Kais, you will meet them, if not soon, in your dreams. For they are, regardless of what happens, part of the dream my father created in me. These kinds of dreams live on forever, and are passed from father to son."

Say what you feel and say it with feelings...

A couple of days ago I was having a very interesting conversation with a friend in regards to 'men' and 'women' and how we are ultimately searching for the same thing on this planet of ours, yet, it's become so difficult to find that one match, the one person (besides from family and friends) who gets you, who really gets you and that likes YOU and all that YOU are.

Ciccio has been a “dater” for as long as I remember and he was mentioning that he has even forgotten how to be in a relationship with a woman, something that lasts longer then 9 weeks. He’s ready. He’s longing now for that one particular woman who can keep his attention, for longer, much longer than that. He wants to be in love and wants someone who fits with him spiritually and can give him wild, passionate sex as well. He mentioned this one girl he really liked more than the “others” but had been foolish enough to let her slip away because at the time quantity mattered more then quality. He was too blind to see what was right in front of him and now he seems to have regained his sight. Now he feels regret! He’s tired of the constant dating and meaningless sex which lacks passion and true intimacy as when you really care about someone. He wants to find ‘the one’.

So he has decided that he's going to try and win back “the one” he let slip away and I really hope this time she’s not the blind one though being a woman myself, I wouldn't blame her if she slams the door in his face. However, I know him (Ti voglio bene Ciccio) and I know he's an amazing guy. Timing and pride always seem to be in the way and that's unfortunate in most cases. Of course I gave him some major pointers as to how he could win her back, and with his persistence, his charm, his beautiful eyes and my divine advice I have no doubt she may give him a second chance. She better otherwise I'll have to buy him the most expensive dinner ever and then marry him;)

There is truly nothing better and more comforting to have those heart-to-heart conversations with those you hold close to you. We empower one another and remind ourselves why after all this time, we're still friends and continue to need each other. We can openly talk and share our most intimate thoughts, fears, desires, and never ever judge, but rather be thankful for the love we share.

I think it's always interesting when I have certain debates/conversations with my "male" friends in regards to ‘why men do this’ and ‘why women do that’. I guess it helps to put things into a better perspective when we share a little more insight about each others' species. We (women/men) are poles apart from one another and you certainly need all the help you can get. It’s kind of like having surgery without getting your anesthetic first (ok, odd comparison but that's all I could come up with right now).

I remembered too of 'he' who may have been my "one", and wondered at times if I had let him slip away. Hard to believe, but I can be a fool occasionally (rarely of course). I still remember the day I met him, they way he looked at me, how his eyes fiercely penetrated the surface of my body and then slid from the top to the bottom. How his lips would get incredibly moist every time he looked at mine, and how mine longed to feel his, if even for just a split second. How we’d sit and talk for hours about nothing or something and it didn’t matter because we enjoyed each others’ voice and silence, silly jokes, and he even thought my snorting (while laughing out loud) was cute. I think that was truly the hardest time of my life. I couldn't act on what I was feeling. I was being tested and I sometimes wonder if I made a mistake. I had met someone so right for me but the timing was wrong, not to mention the circumstances could not allow it and my morals, integrity and will power played a key role. I guess we didn't exactly let each other slip away; we just had to be responsible and make a decision that benefited others at the time and put ourselves, our cravings and needs, our desires and dreams on the side. I often think of him and when we exchange an email every few months just to say ‘hi’ ‘how are you?’ - I still wonder….

On the other hand, I also realize that I may simply not have met the 'one', because if I had then I'd be with him right now! Now that I don't have to put myself in a secondary place and I can finally give in to my needs, my cravings, my ultimate fantasies and desires, and give all that I have to give (which is a hell of a lot….) I find myself believing that "the one" may not actually exists. So? Do you settle for other amazing possibilities? Because God knows, there are plenty out there! Or do you try and reach for the sky? Well, I am a day-dreamer and in Marianna’s land the sky is not unreachable...in fact….I can almost touch it right now;)

Ciccio says that I don't trust people. I trust people; only sometimes we put our trust in the wrong hands and become too often disappointed. I guess I trust people but it takes me a little extra time. Regardless, I may have a hard time with trusting people but I sure have a good time with sarcasm and making fun of all that comes my way. However, I've been working on taming it back a little - sarcasm is not always appreciated the way it should. I think too often we miss the very art of it and I'm an artistic soul at heart;)

Anyway, I found a poem (I know...another poem - Yikes) and I absolutely love it. It reminds me of who I am today and that no matter what kind of hits or punches I take, I'm still happy and not longer jaded, and I will never take myself, you, or life for granted.


The Joy of Living

I will sing it-
The melody of beautiful living!
I will smile
For my thoughts are of tomorrow
My eyes fixed on the rainbows of the distant future
Fixed on what lies beyond the pains of reality

Hearts beating high with expectation
Bringing joy and comfort to friends-
Young people, you are my faith

I have no cold tears
I do not pass my life in silence
I am not bound by any tragic fate
No weep tale is mine
But with my friends
Shining brightly race through a beautiful landscape
Where rapturous scenes unfold

There are gardens overflowing with life
There are roads
There are hills

There are fairy tale lands
Bathed in moonlight
That no one knows of
There are lovely rivers
Palaces of crystal-
In the depths of my heart
Forever a golden sun is shining

Youth is the pulsing blood
That changes all to joy
Youth is the golden bell
That resounds through all things

Those who uphold
The joy of living
Are queens of good fortune
Those who can discover
The joy of living
Are victors of the spirit

Grazie Italia, Grazie grazie grazie

L'orgoglio Italiano è venuto fuori, le qualità di una popolazione che, nei momenti iu' difficili, riesce a dare il massimo. E il calcio non fa eccezione. GRAZIE RAGAZZI!

I have no words to describe the emotions, not to mention that I have no voice left -- I lost it during and after the game from the endless cheering and singing in celebration of our victory.

Italy is the champion. And sadly the World Cup is over after a glorious month-long party in Germany (and in all corners of the globe). It's an empty feeling knowing the tournament is over. I'm definitely going to have some serious post-World Cup withdrawal. I'm highly considering some stress-leave to regroup after all these emotions I've been going through. But it was a thrilling ride while it lasted and today I'm prouder than ever of where I come from.

Zidane's headbutt was un-necessary. It may have cost France the cup. The French lacked team spirit. There was never any excitement nor celebration when they scored in any of the match. David Trezguet was calm and did not show any emotion for missing the penalty. Whether Materazzi tickled his nipples or called him names, a legendary player like Zidane should have not lost his temper...A great player is one who lets his game do the talking and nothing else...speaking of Viera and Henry getting injured, well thats all a part of the game by which I mean a great soccer team is one in which the squad has enough good players who can replace the the ones who get injured. Italy didn't have the services of the great Nesta for the entire WC yet Materazzi did an excellent job in his place. So the bottomline is Italy won because they deserved to win and nothing else.

(if you'd like an instant replay of the headbutting click below and then put your mouse on Zidane).
http://www.gazzetta.it/openxlink.shtml?http://widelec.org/zidane.html


The French newspaper this morning read: "L' ITALIE, FINALEMENT" as if they won ten cups over the years. I'm sure I speak for all the Italians when I say where the French should put their French baguettes right now....;)

And here are the last moments:
http://cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/scp_v3/viewer/index.php?pid=16891&rn=458044&
amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;cl=586059&ch=458046&lang=enf

And please, don't forget to keep jumping up and down because: chi non salta un Francese e', e!

Grazie Ragazzi!

World cup 2006