Still Love the Godfather, more and more

In all three films, the real Sicily fails to live up to this mythic image. The true Sicily is no paradise, but a place haunted by blood feuds and barbaric violence. In fact, every Sicilian journey culminates in a dramatic act of violence: the killing of Apollonia in The Godfather, the death of Vito’s entire family at the beginning of Part II, the subsequent revenge killing of Don Ciccio later in the film, and the murder of Mary in Part III. Ironically, it is the Corleones’ failure to escape from, rather than to, Sicily that prevents them from leaving their violent past behind. After all, Sicily, despite its rural charms and enticing vistas, is still the ancestral home of the Mafia.


"I always thought of THE GODFATHER as the story of a great king with three sons. The oldest was given his passion and aggressiveness; the second, his sweet nature and childlike qualities; and the third, his cunning and coolness."
—FRANCIS FORD COPPOLA

Love this Song, three

The Classics

If you're a dago girl like me, you'll love this shit. Rock on!

Laverne & Shirley, Lucy and Ethel, Oprah and Gayle

Oprah: How else can you explain a level of intimacy where someone always loves you, always respects you, admires you? Wants the best for you in every single situation of your life. Lifts you up. Supports you. Always! That's an incredibly rare thing between even the closest of friends. "as one soul in two bodies, when we are together the world feels right"

This post is on a lighter note than the one before about my argument with Steve.


"If I were Oprah, she'd be my Gayle", i told my sister. My sister didn't' seem interested, just thankful that someone else can listen to my obsessive rambling and illogical interests in things. No one can take the place of my sister, she is my sister, the closest genetic match to myself {how could I NOT love her?}. But there is a calm that comes over me now when I talk to her. She understands me, without judgement, she really wants the best for me. ~and she always has, I just never saw it.


Our argument, sooo many years ago, was all my fault. Looking back I see it now. And I probably knew it then too, I was just too stubborn to realize it, too much pride to admit what I did was wrong, and too insecure to bite the big one, and apologize. But Christina had a dream, a little over a year ago, about me, and her Aunt Mary, who is psychic, told her that I needed her, that I was in trouble and needed her to help me. So Christina found my email address on the Internet and emailed me. The rest is history. And after all these years, we picked right back up where we left off. Laverne and Shirley. Lucy and Ethel. Oprah and Gayle.


I don't really know what I would do without her friendship now. Her Aunt Mary was right, I was in trouble, and now I've got my partner in crime back. ~so glad!

Everyone Just Wants To Be Loved, Too

No, its not just you.

Everyday I try to tell myself it will get better, its an adjustment, keep on keeping on. And everyday, as if I am being cursed by God things get harder. I really cant take it anymore.

Last night it was something again. And all day I tried to stay positive and happy, and upbeat and -you know, not myself. Thinking maybe, maybe, just maybe its IS me. And I come home and there is someone here, again. And if it was an isolated incident I wouldn't have minded. But this week I specifically asked for no friends to be over b/c we have sooo much work to do. And what happens? He had his cousins over on Monday and wed. He finds away around it all the time. And Friday his friend from New Jersey is coming in for his bachelor pty on Sat. And Sunday will be a wasted day because he will be hung over and so will all of his friends that will be crashing here, on my couch, again.

His priorities are fucked up. Bottom line. He has some nerve saying I should be happy with this big home that he gave me. Well, I didn't ask for the home, he did, and I didn't ask for the patio, he did, and I didn't ask for the tv, he did, and I didn't ask HIM to marry ME. He did. Possessions are not enough. I want HIM back. The him that he seemed to be, before I moved in.

So last night, that was it. I lost it. You know the kind of crying that takes over your body and forces you to run from the room with your head in your hands? That was me. He told me that his friend {from the marines} who is coming up from GA is going to stay with us on Sunday and Monday. The day after our wedding. YEP, that's the straw that broke the camel's back. He saw nothing wrong with it. I lost it. I cried and cried, and basically became the bad guy. I don't know why that bothers me, I am always the bad guy.

Its like his Uncle said to me: Steve, he is already married, to his friends.

That's My Dad

Yesterday was father's day, so I want to give a shout out to my Daddy. Yes, I still call him that. And I think he kinda likes it too.

It's important to remember that every woman you meet has a Dad, and every little girl you see, will be a Woman one day too. Its like that boring John Mayer song. I don't like John Mayer, but you get my drift.

As a child, I had the kind of Dad that would carry you on his shoulders, so I could see, he'd buy me ice cream from the ice cream man, he'd dance with me at weddings, he'd tackle and tickle me when we played "football", he'd tie my shoes, and brush my hair, and zip my jackets. I had the kind of Dad that would set up the slip and slide and let me squirt him with the hose and break water balloons on him. I had the kind of Dad that would ride bikes with me and give me baths at night. I had the kind of Dad that would tell me stories of his adventures, and let me come to work with him. I had the kind of Dad that would give me "the stare" and my back would straighten. I had THAT kind of Dad, and I am lucky. Ya know what?, I still Do.
~~~

My Dad is the most amazing person I know. There is nothing he can not do. He has amazed me my whole life with his abilities to fix things, break things, invent things, destroy things, make things and buy things, over and over. When I was a little girl my dad would tuck me in at night and sprinkle fairy dust on me so I could sleep. And I truly believe it worked. I always sleep better on Dad's watch. When I think of how hard he worked so I could eat, sleep, and play it brings tears to my eyes. There is noone alive that would give as much. When I was a little girl and I would get thirsty at night, I'd lay in bed and call out, "daddy, can I have a glass of water?" And he'd somehow hear me, and somehow stumble to the kitchen, and somehow come back with a nice cup of water. He is my hero.

My Dad taught me most everything I know. He taught me how to swear, how to scream, how to be mean, how to dance, how to sing, how to laugh, how to love. My Dad is the strongest man I know. There is nothing he can't lift, nothing he can't see, nothing he can get. He always believed in me. He never gave up on me. His tenacity is what has brought me here. He has never stopped parenting me. And I'm glad about that.

My Dad is my Hero. Plain and simple, there is noone that would ever do more for me. Except maybe my mom. ;) Love ya Dadddy.

The Countdown

I walk down the asile in...13 days. OMG!

And anyone that has planned a wedding knows what I am going through now. Seating, Programs, favors, paying everyone... but I swear to God, if ANYONE says ANYTHING about the time of the ceremony AGAIN, I will go fucking balistic.


...Ahhhhh, now I feel better. I'm happy happy bride again.

Love this Song, too

Still loving the Timabland, Nelly Futado, Justin Timberlake Song.

Fragile Hearts

Can be broken.

Sometimes I stare at people a little too long, like after the initial smile and nod, they turn slightly away, but sometimes I still watch them. I begin to notice things about them. I see their weaknesses, their fragileness, their softness, their worries and their insecurities. Most of the time it makes me sad, and makes me want to give them {what I like to call} a Fiderio Hug. Which is a big big hug, with a simultaneous pat pat pat on the back, developed by the only one I know that could truly give the most giant of hugs, my Grama Fiderio. Even on her dying day, as a 12 yr old girl, she reached over and hugged me so tightly, you would never know she was dying. She made me instantly feel better, not as scared, and it left an indullable mark on my body as well as my heart. I try always to hug like that.

My point is i feel things, like intuitively about people. Like that they are sad, even when they smile and laugh, like that they hurt, so deeply by looking at their eyes, like when someone says something sooo sweet, but their eyes cut you underneath. I pick up on those things. And really you would think it was a good thing, but it makes me sad alot, and it makes me angry, or it changes my opinion of them, because there is more there than meets the eye, that others don't see. And Steve is always saying that he doesn't understand HOW I get so upset from things...but when you look at someone, you can see their heart. And some have fragile hearts.

My cousin's heart is very fragile, she is very emotional and sentimental, but often puts on the air of a fun loving person, with out a care. But she's not. She has always been my hero, and the first day I realized that she wasn't all craziness and laughter, I think I realized we had so much more in common than I thought. I think she sees peoples hearts too, when she looks at them. But her heart is breaking, bleeding, aching, and there is nothing worldly we can give her, for her pain is sooo great, that all she can do is rise above, and grow. But she's not there yet, she's holding on, to the best of her abilities, but theres a long way to go. And I see it every time I look at her.

And some don't care.

Those that will remain nameless are spoiled little brats. They say the world has been sooo cruel to them, but they have never been with out clothes or shoes, or a roof. They may not have had name brands {and our culture tells us that that =s poor}, but they have never really needed anything that they didn't have. People that collect things, have spare change. And good for them. But they come here and get mad that the food has been put away, and that dinner is over. They get mad that they aren't the ones playing the video games, and they act like little babies and wrap themselves up in my blankets and go to sleep with their feet in my throw pillows.

I call them brats because that's what they act like. And their hearts should be heavy with guilt and sadness, but they are more concerned with getting a burger, than they are with the life they washed away. God bless them, as my mother would say, because they don't know how fragile the ground they walk on really is.


Fragile hearts can be broken, too.

Words of Music

Great Words About Music I found on a great blog.

Have you noticed though that if you listen to a song in the rain, it sounds and feels different? It’s heavier. More meaningful. And the lyrics begin to sink in. Certain songs were meant to be played in the rain. Or at night. Or in the city. Or in the Summer. Or in transition. Sometimes to forget. Sometimes to hold on. Songs for beginnings, or ends. For sad, or angry, or beautiful.

All good songs are better songs in the right mood.

And then, like magic, that’s when a stranger's poetry becomes my story, for me. And your story, for you. And then music is simple no longer - because our stories are never simple.

Love this Song

Love Love Love the Bone and Akon song.
Shout out to Cleveland!



"It's like I'm taking 5 steps forward and 10 steps back, trying to get ahead of the game, but I can't seem to get it on track, and I keep running away from the ones that say they love me the most how could I create the distance when it's suppose to be close and uh, I just don't know but I be out here fighting demons and, it's like a curse that I can't shake this part of Cleveland and lord, would you help me? and stop this pain I keep inflicting on my family hustling gambling, tricking and scamming scrambling and losing sight of what I'm suppose to be handling, it's hard to manage cause everyday's a challenge and man I'm slipping can't lose my balance I'm trying not to panic."

Nada, Niente, Nessuno

Nothing Today. Low on inspiration I guess.

~toodles~

Givers and Takers

There are 2 kinds of people on earth that I mean, those are the people who lift and the people who lean.

Just another great quote about people who take and never give. People who live off other people and never help out. The people who walk around like they are god's gift, and then rip others for being different. It takes all kinds my friend, it takes all kinds.

But if we should elaborate for a few...the givers and the takers... I hate people who take, and take and take, and when you say enough is enough, they call you selfish. They call you rude and they say you are a bad person. I don't buy this shit anymore. I'm a giver, I give and fucking give and get rudeness and bitchiness and people take more than I offer. So I figured out too just stop giving to those people that are chronic takers. I'm all about holding a door for a stranger, but I always seem to have them slam in my face on the way out.

Great Quote III

"My father said there were two kinds of people in the world: givers and takers. The takers may eat better, but the givers sleep better."
~Marlo Thomas

Just Take A Pill

And get over it.

With a large gulp of water, the scariness will be gone. You will be back to normal. Whatever that is for you now. Fuuhh, you lucked out on that one, didn't cha?

I unfortunately must have been born with an abnormal gag reflex. I can't swallow large pills -at all. I can't hardly swallow small ones, so I chew baby aspirin and I try never to get sick. I hope I'm a lucky senior citizen, cause I know my grama takes tons of pills everyday. So, I can't take a pill to ease my pain as easily as the next person. I'm not going to reference the inspiration behind this post, but I did post about this before. All I can say is, I hope that is one bitter pill to swallow.

Like Minded People

I think it was my dad who told me, or maybe it was an old professor, or maybe it was some guy at church...but whoever it was, I find myself more and more, feeling as though they were "dead on balls accurate". The search of Like Minded People.

The theory of Like Minded People:
~Search out those who are of like mind, who think similarly to you and befriend them.
~Rationale: Like Minded People share the same sets of morals and values as you do. Their priorities and preferences coincide with those you have. When choosing friends, life partners, and possibly even careers it is best to go with those that fit nicely into your life.

Now, I'm all for a meeting of the minds. Brainstorming sessions to come up with alternatives and other ideas. I'm all for sitting down with someone completely different and getting to know them. I like meeting new people and stuff. Most of the people I am friends with, are not like minded people with me. But I find common ground with everyone.

What the Like Minded People Theory helps me with is when I'm distressed and feel alone in the world it gives me a place to go home to. A group of people that, although we may be different, there is a common thread that runs though us, grounds us, and keeps us sane. I need these people, just as much as the world needs lots of different people.

Anyone Want This Unwanted Baby?

Cheerios get softer -quicker here. Some how they just do. I don't really know why. Oh well, back to my thoughts.



Anyone want an unwanted baby? The answer of course is yes. Millions of people want a baby, can't conceive, talk to their drs., their ministers, their mothers. They cry, and cry. They either opt to TRY to adopt a child or they go for the all expensive fertility help, or resign to the fact that they may be childless forever. No one in my immediate family had had fertility problems. ~I think. All of my cousins have children. My dad's sisters had 7 and 6 children. And from what I know they ALL had more than one as well. My dad's mother had 4, 2 were even twins. Pretty lucky, I guess. And then there was my mom's mom, she only had 2, and my mom only had 2, but that's just because she didn't want anymore after she met my sister {I kid, I kid}. So my point is God willing, I won't have trouble when my time comes. But my Grama does tell me that I'm unhealthy, I don't eat red meat, or fruits and veggies, or protein, I tan, in tanning beds {GASP} and am around 2nd hand smoke. But over all, I'm pretty healthy. ...blah blah blah, on to my point.

Unwanted babies. That's right. I know a couple who have one {hell don't we all}, but I also know a couple that hasn't had IT. They are young, ridiculously stupid, and immature. But aren't' we all at 18? I know I was. So basically these 2 babies, now are expecting a baby. But they just want this messy little problem to go away. So I haven't heard the latest, but that's what they are doing. To quote, "I mean, it will be hard and shit, but she'll get over it". -ummm, talk to anyone, you never really get over it. But they don't want to hear my perspective. Because to me its a life, and I'm pretty sure to anyone who has EVER gotten pregnant, its a life, even if they don't choose to have it.

But {I say this sarcastically of course} sure do hope they get this thing over with, I mean the Cavs ARE in the finals, and he's gotta get back to Halo 3! Cause this baby is certainly putting a damper on my summer plans as well, I mean, I got sooo much cool shit going on too. But not half as much as them.


Poor Little Life. Someone wants you, just not the right people.

Here Again

Well I've arrived here again. Lost and lonely. How is that possible? Every other day it seems, I'm here, in this special place. Maybe that says something and I'm too dumb to hear it. Maybe, the one time I should listen, should analyze and should think, I just...don't? Maybe I'd just rather waste my time typing this blog post? I don't know.


I sit alone, shouldn't have eaten, cause my stomach is in a knot, feeling uneasy, as his moods change, and his attitude worsens, and his snide comments grow less snide and more direct. I get sicker and sicker to my stomach. I want to go home, but there is no home anywhere for me. I'm lost and alone. I'm a failure, at everything I try. Why oh why?

I feel like a child again, when my dad would get mad and scream and yell and I'd hide under my bed begging God for him to stop and just be nice again. I'd pretend under my bed was another world. Oh how I wish it were. Is God trying to tell me something? Why am I the brunt of this? Why am I the one, even when I did nothing wrong, am I being punished? That's how it feels, for what its worth.

I realized today I'm an adult and can't take care of myself. I can't function properly. I'm a wreck. Or maybe I can function, just not very well. But it was clear to me today, that all I have ever really tried at has been f*cked up somehow and I never really A'ced the tests. Isn't it wonderful to have someone tell you that about yourself? I guess women really do marry men like their fathers.