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.

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