five fabulous things about me

Thanks Jeanne at The Raisin Chronicles! And to think I was hesitant to start blogging because I thought I'd only get comments from jerks. SO not true (now watch them de-lurk from the woodwork).

1. I was asked to elaborate on my post on Italian husbands. For the sake of enlightenment, I will elaborate on number 9. Putting cheese on fish will get your arm broken off.

We once were eating at a restaurant in Venice. Three of the four of us ordered fish while Punkone opted for a simple pasta with meat sauce. I had long ago weaned myself from automatically sprinkling Parmesan cheese on everything Italian. No one at that table would even imagine putting cheese on fish. But, Parmesan on pasta Bolognese... all good! So...

My husband asked the waiter if we could please have some parmesan. The waiter's face went white. "Why?" was the response. My husband indicated that Punkone wanted some for his pasta. The waiter suspiciously eyes the pasta and concedes reluctantly. He arrives with the cheese and places it directly next to my son's dish and steps back. My husband reaches across the table to put some on Punkone's dish for him and in that instant, the waiter grabs my husbands arm. "No sir. I'm sorry. But we, here in Italy, do not put the cheese on fish."

I nearly choked on my fish, stifling my laughter. My husband, responding in Italian, says "I agree that it would be sacrilegious to put cheese on this wonderful fish. Now please kindly allow me to sprinkle it on my son's Bolognese."

Still in suspicion, the waiter releases my husband's arm, watches the sprinkling of cheese, and then briskly removes the bowl of parmesan from the table.

2. My husband and I met at a party hosted by another Italian I knew in grad school. My girlfriend was on the prowl that night. As I was engaged, my mission was to help her scope out the guys. When I set eyes on my husband, I said, "how about him?" Her response was "not my type" to which I replied, "oh, he's SO my type."
Later in the evening he commented on my dimples and then we went dancing at a gay bar named "Club Marcella." I won't elaborate but best "date" ever.

3. I have just one cavity that was filled without anesthesia by a dentist who didn't wear gloves and pumped a pedal on the floor to get the drill going (in 1993). He also said "oops" at one point while he was drilling. I thought I was in an Ed Wood movie.

4. My parents have a parenting style that is perfectly illustrated by one vivid childhood memory.

We had just arrived to a new campground and my brothers and I made a mad dash for the playground. It was a spectacular space, but remembering it now, there was nothing but a field of dry grass and some old playground equipment. The defining feature of the playground was the tallest slide I'd ever seen. It was one of those narrow, scorching hot metal numbers. And insanely tall. Even now I'd think it was tall. I remember it was at least 12' high. My brothers and I couldn't wait to see how close to super sonic we could get.

My youngest brother was probably about 3 or 4 at the time. But he went on up those stairs just like the rest of us. I had done my first slide and was at the bottom waiting to go again. When the little guy reached the top and tried to sit down, he flipped himself right off the side of the side. And dropped directly into my father's arms. I'd hardly noticed Dad was there, but there he was.

5. In college I was asked to assist a blind girl that needed to take Chem Lab 101 for her degree. Her name was Ramona and she was AWESOME. I would go to lab with her and try to explain the experiments to her and keep her safe. Not as easy as it may sound. Imagine trying to describe to someone who is blind the significance of a change in color of the precipitant... no real concept of a colored, clear, or cloudy liquid... she can't feel the liquid like she normally would... she refused to wear lab gloves (which basically "blinded" her). I tried to get her to be as autonomous as possible. I timed how long she should pour to get 10 mL so she could then fill all the test tubes herself, but still she kept sticking her fingers in to check.

We had some good laughs with the whole situation and started going out together. One midwestern winter night, Ramona and I were out bar hopping and it was icy as hell. I was a 6' stork back then and she was a deliciously routund 4'. So the uncoordinated walking stick was guiding the blind butterball across the sheer surface of an ice topped parking lot when I slipped and vanished from her sight. She knew I was still there, wanted to help me up, but didn't dare move to try to find me. It didn't help matters that we were pretty drunk and laughing our silly asses off.



I'd like to pass this FUCKING fabulous BLOG award on to

Derfina at Life in the River,
Pearl at Pearl why you little...
Black Hockey Jesus at The Wind in Your Vagina
Kavi at Kavi's Musings
Bella at That Damn Expat
Paige Lacey at Turning Paige
Naperville Mom at Ponderings of a Porcupine

And my favorite newbie is:
Skinny Love at Day Dreamer ... amazing photos and inspiring words... please go check her out