MY RIDICULOUS FAMILY

An instant message convo between my cousin Jim and I. It was so amusing I just had to share...

fitz: tonight i'm watching "emma"
fitz: i have a girl crush on jane austen book-based-films
Corsi: why?
fitz: i don't know
fitz: i saw some jane austen movie with anne hathaway and i was like
fitz: hmmm... i should probably rent some of those movies
fitz: b/c i never read any of her novels
fitz: in college or in high school
fitz: after this one i'm going to be renting pride and prejudice
Cors: are you getting them all from itunes?
fitz: no, my mom got me a gift card to family video
fitz: family video is such a kick in the teeth
Corsi: why?
fitz: the name
fitz: they should change it to "spinster video"
Corsi: i get pizza from a place called "a girlfriend who loves you"
Corsi: and i really like pizza...
fitz: that's not the name of it
Corsi: no, its really called La Morra...but you get my point
fitz: la morra is italian for the morra
fitz: i just looked it up
Corsi: i have no response for that
fitz: i just thought it would've been funny if la morra in italian meant "the girlfriend"
Corsi: lol
Corsi: THAT would be a kick in the teeth
fitz: Worry if you order pizza from a place called "Pizza L'Amica"
fitzieg: that means "Pizza the Girlfriend"
Corsi: what's italian for "hang myself in the closet after eating pizza?"
fitz: appenda nell'armadio dopo il cibo della pizza
Corsi: good. so i shouldn't go there
fitz: right.
Corsi: lucky you told me...there is one next to papa johns by me
Corsi: could never figure out why it was always empty
fitz: ha ha
fitz: ba-dum-dum
fitz: ching
Corsi: wow, rimshot over IM...impressive
fitz: i work in radio
fitz: i have skills in sound effect phonentic spellings
fitz: even though i misspelled phonetic
Corsi: the key is to spell it out in your head...fo-ne-tik-ley
fitz: no that's not right
fitz: foe-net-tick-lee
Corsi: that's just stupid
fitz: stoo-ped
fitz: no
fitz: stew-ped
Corsi: LOL
fitz: all you have to do is just write like you're an "LOL cat"
Corsi: lord...
fitz: i's all up in ur compewtur spelin' foe-net-tick-lee
Corsi: thanks a lot...
Corsi: the brainpower it too me to decode that, i forgot how to do math
Corsi: see, i can barely type now
Corsi: i can't remember what letter comes between j and l...
fitz: K
fitz: wait.
fitz: yeah, k

ANGELS AMONG US

This will give you goosebumps.

SO SAD

Eartha Kitt Dies

THE NEWEST DANCE CRAZE

Thanks Beyonce'!

Click below:

PUT YOUR HANDS UP

GOOD LUCK TRYING TO TELL PEOPLE YOU'RE ADOPTED

Left, Sophie Midler; Right, Bette Midler (Sophie's mom)

HOW TO MOURN SOMEONE WHO'S STILL ALIVE

You know how they say breakups are like a death?
Well, it's damn true.

Here are the 5 stages of grief:

Denial:
Example - "I feel fine."; "This can't be happening, not to me!"

Anger:
Example - "Why me? It's not fair!" "NO! NO! How can this happen!"

Bargaining:
Example - "I'll do anything, can't you stretch it out? A few more years."

Depression:
Example - "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"

Acceptance:
Example - "It's going to be OK. If I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."

At the moment, I'm feeling all these things at the same time. But although my brain is a very messy, very scary place right now... my apartment? Friggin' sparkling! I've been taking care of my rental like it's my kid. However, I do believe it's simply a temporary form of self-diagnosed OCD and will soon pass.

Some days I'm totally fine, and others... well... I'll be in Walgreens and some froofy Celine Dion song will come on through the loudspeakers which subsequently forces me to place my toilet paper back on the shelf and run out of there with my tail between my legs.

It sucks.

Most often though, I'm happy to report that I refuse to spend more than a few moments at a time on the whole "over-analyzing" part of this sad situation. I've kicked off a full blown baking crusade in which I bake various pastries (homemade cherry pies w/cherries pitted by hand, cookies, cupcakes, you name it) then bring them to work for everyone to enjoy in the office. It's a great stress reliever and I must admit, I do feel like quite the "Cucina Champion." (Ha Ha - I made that up).

I've also been whipping up an outline for the creative non-fiction novel I'm about to write. It's just a matter of perfecting that darn character arc. I have the plot pretty much together. It's not a serious, dramatic piece (although you'd assume it would be, all things considered) it's just something fun and humorous with a little romance thrown in for good measure. We'll see how that goes.

The other thing I've been doing? Intense, chick-flick-movie-watching. I am the biggest sucker for romantic comedies. I think I have every single one ever made. Does this make me trite and flighty? No. It's merely a form of escapism that just happens to be working for me! And fret not, movie buffs - these are not just movies from this decade or last... Woody Allen's Annie Hall is next up on the list.

I'm not out of the woods yet... but who knows what tomorrow brings?


Hey, that sounded a lot like grief's #5 step!

;-)


Stay tuned....

TOO CUTE

I say I don't want kids, then I discover this cuteness on YouTube:

TIS THE SEASON

So it's been a while since I've had the chance to sit down and write. I am at work right now, yes at work. I started back to work at Dolphin Cove on December 1. After going back and forth and my boss calling and asking me to come back, I made the executive decision to work three days a week and put Reagan in Montessori school.

Yes, I work around dolphins all day long. I am a photographer. I take pictures of people having the time of their life swimming with these amazing creatures. It is as good as it sounds. Coming back to a place I've already worked was an easy transition too, which made it a whole lot easier. Reagan enjoys school, I think, but she already got sick. Double ear infection, high fever, cough and the snots. I was a bit disappointed but I knew it would happen. Everyone tells me it is good for her to get sick and I guess that's true but it doesn't make it any easier.

There are only 9 more shopping days until Christmas and I haven't done any of it. I proclaimed that I didn't want anything for Christmas but soon changed my mind when I saw the new iPod nano. For the record I got the pink one with and engraving on the back. Aislyn's nano n'at. For those of you who don't understand the "nano n'at"...it's a Pittsburgh thing. UrbanDictionary.com explains it well.

Reagan sat on Santa's lap the other night and screamed like a Banshee. The classic Santa photo.

So, in a nutshell that is what has been going on with me. Not very exciting but it is taking up a lot of time right now.

Oh...and I start back to college at night in January so my plate is filling up. Which is good for someone like me. Idle hands are the devil's handy work they say...

RAY LAMONTAGNE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE

How in the world did I never hear of him!?

I discovered this gem of a singer-songwriter on Amazon.com, of all places. Talk about amazing. This guy has such a classic sound. I'm buying his CD. He's just too good to pass up. Apparently he's a big hit in the UK.

Check out these two vids of live performances. His breathy, raspy voice makes you want to float away on a frickin' cloud...

JOSEPH BETH IS MY NEW BF

Dear Borders and Barnes and Noble,


As much as I hate writing this letter, it needs to be done.


I'm breaking up with you.
I've found a new love and his name is Joseph Beth.... Booksellers.


My new bookstore is more spacious, more warm and more cozy than both of you put together. Plus, he reminds me a lot of FAO Schwartz in New York City, except with several thousand books and not toys.


Joseph has not one, but TWO floors of wonderfulness. Granted, his poetry section isn't as vast as yours, but he boasts the incomparable Caribou Coffee. For the first time in 6 months, I was able to order a piping hot, small Turtle Mocha... a.k.a. the stuff dreams are made of.


Maybe it's because I'm a writer, maybe it's because I'm a reader, maybe it's just because I'm over-caffeinated about 90% of the time... either way, I've never wanted to hug multiple bookshelves quite so much in my life.


We had a great relationship, Borders and Barnes and Noble. And I'll never forget you. Perhaps someday, I'll swing by for a visit.


But until then, I must let you know that I've moved on to greener pastures... and I don't intend to look back.


I hope you understand, and sincerely wish you all the best in the future.


Love,
Marie


P.S. If you're curious, you can see my new bookstore online at www.josephbeth.com.

QUOTEY-QUOTEY

SHE WILL LIVE BY THE PEN!

Wow.  

Wow. Wow. Wow.

Well, I said I would review "Becoming Jane," didn't I?  

Alright then...  here's your review: 

AWESOME.

The entire plot is amazing.  It's based on the life of author Jane Austen, but there are a few twists thrown in there to give it that special "Hollywood" appeal.  Basically the entire love story is made to seem much deeper than it actually was in real life.  But man, was it good.

First of all, as you may already know, Jane Austen never married and died at 41.  Her first and only lifelong love was writing.  She says in the film several times, "I will live by the pen," meaning that she will make her own money doing what she loves - writing.

Hmm... sounds familiar...

Now, I'm not claiming to be like Jane Austen by any stretch of the imagination, but I definitely felt like I could relate (that is, with the writing and the single part... not the dying part).

Jane falls in love with a handsome Irishman named Tom LeFroy.  It isn't just an attraction thing though - there's an intellectual bond there too.  They were kindred spirits on the same wavelength.  They could speak about everything from status, money and power, to social issues and literary works.  Plus they could laugh together.  That's always important.

The thing I liked most about this movie was the fact that Mr. LeFroy respected Jane's passion in every way imaginable.  Whenever given the chance, he would praise and inspire her.  I don't care what anyone says - THAT is what makes a man, a man.

Anyway, I highly recommend "Becoming Jane"... remember, it's set in the late 1700s, so prep yourself for some old school jargon, corsets and a healthy dose of female repression.

GREAT GUILT

I usually like my posts to be about topics other than myself. But tonight...well... it's a little different.

I have PMS...

...and a computer.

I'm not going to go into detail about what recently occurred in my personal life. The only thing I'll say is that I suffered a great loss. A loss of love, if you will. I had a one in a million chance of being a wife and (someday) mother. I had the chance to make a house a home, to plant a garden, to own a dog and to have picnics in the woods on my very own property with my "husband."

This, however, was an opportunity which passed me by for a multitude of reasons. Simply put: Unnecessary circumstances beyond my control forced me to bring myself back to square one, which is a very lonely (and sometimes) dangerous place - especially when you have an overly analytical mind such as I.

Now I'm left feeling guilty. Guilty for going with the gut... and guilty for having the right to do just that.

I especially feel for women generations before me (and even now) who struggled to put food on the table and keep their families together, all while raising a couple small children at a time. I think of my maternal-great-italian-immigrant-grandmother who started having kids when she was a teenager and kept going until there were 14 of them (12 actually... 2 died). She worked from dawn til dusk raising those kids and barely spoke a word of English.

I have great respect for women like this. Women who hold it all together under the pressure of soccer games, PTA meetings and daycare. But I also have great guilt for not contributing to such a natural aspect of society. I feel as though I am not fulfilling my greater purpose as a woman and reproductive vessel. I suppose God skipped me when he was passing out the "domestic chip." (Seriously, I'm not exaggerating - I can't even keep a plant alive).

I think of women who never had an education; who can barely read. Women who don't know what it means to kick back on the couch after a long day at the office and watch the cable that they know they paid for with their own money. I feel great guilt for being sad when there is so much more I could be unhappy about - like not even having the ability or opportunity to acquire a job and pay my own bills.

I remember the women I've known (or do know) who have found their soul mates; who have found that one perfect person - for them- to share their whole world with. I feel great guilt for envying these women every day.

I look at my parents. They're young in spirit, but in about 20 years, I'll be middle aged and they'll be old in body (sorry guys). It makes me tear up a little bit when I think of them never being able to hold a grandchild bore by me, never being able to see me get married and always having to help me pick up the pieces every time my heart gets shattered by yet another failed romance. I feel great guilt for putting my parents through so much and not even giving them the opportunity to see that they did such a great job with me.

But you know what?

The most amazing thing about all this stuff.... feeling guilty and sorry for yourself, I mean... is that you begin to get tired of it eventually.

And right now...right this minute...I'm tired of feeling bad. So I'm going to have some hot chocolate, enjoy my evening and watch a movie based on the life of Jane Austen (Becoming Jane, starring Anne Hathaway...I'll let you know how it is).

Maybe tomorrow I'll feel better about feeling bad.

Then again, maybe not.

Either way, our time here is short. And by wasting one even more minute of my free time on this "great guilt," I'd be doing a great disservice to those women who don't even have one spare second.

SBS

Otherwise known as Shy Bladder Syndrome, SBS is a real thing. Yeah...I had no idea either. I had no idea until I went to take a drug test for my employer on Monday.

I started back to work at the Dolphin facility I use to work at before I had Reagan. So, I guzzled down some juice and water in the morning, knowing I had to go during my lunch, and when I arrived there I did my thing and was all ready to leave when...

"That's not enough", said the woman with the rubber gloves. Apparently I needed to fill up the glass halfway and because I didn't, had to sit there until I could. I couldn't leave and come back, that would be considered a fail, I couldn't even leave the woman's sight. God forbid I'd have someone else's pee stashed in my car and would use it. Ridiculous I know.

So I had to call work, say I would be late and sit in a small room with one other SBS sufferer and chug 40 ounces of water and wait 45 minutes to try again. To top it off, there was zero cell phone reception where I was so I had to press my face up against the window and tilt my head just right to take Marie's call so I could inform her of my new found condition. SBS.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of waiting and mass amounts of H20 consumption I went. I went and then had to continue going for the next two hours because of all the damn water I had drank.

I went back to work and word had gotten around...everyone knew I had SBS. And just in case they didn't, it was stated on my drug test form.

CHINESE PROVERB

"He who asks a question is a fool for five minutes. He who does not ask is a fool forever."