Thank you…

Thank you, to all my followers, for your continued patience, since I have not been posting on a regular basis. I have been busy working on projects, including writing and painting. Soon, I hope to show you, what I have been working on.

I want you to know, that I read your blogs every day. You all are incredible writers and artist. When I read your blogs, they give me a smile or a chuckle and sometimes even a teary eye. I want to thank you, for being there and taking me on your journey.

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Dusty camera, forgotten tap shoes and lost paint set

Is there something you use to like to do, but you are not doing anymore?  Maybe it’s painting, photography, sculpting, even hiking or just walking in the park.  I started losing my passion, years ago. I use to love to dance. When I  was two years old, my mother took me to ballet lessons. As I got older, my uncle who was a dance instructor, taught me the twist.

My father’s family, especially my aunt and father have always loved to dance.  When I was growing up, my grandmother lived with us. In the evening, she would pour 1/2 of a glass of red wine and 1/2 water.  Soon she would be dancing to the music, then I, my sister and brother would join in.  It was fun dancing with my grandmother.

She would put her hands up in the air and twirl around, this way and that way.  The music would be loud and we would all be clapping and dancing. As I got older into my early teens, I would go dancing with my aunt.  We would usually go to a fair,  where they would have live music. I remember one night they had a tribute band, that played the Bee Gees music.

Here I was 14 years old, dancing to disco music with my aunt. We were dancing the same dance steps, as in the “Saturday Night Fever” movie.  What a fun night we shared.  As I got a little older, I would sneak out at night to go to dance clubs.  Nothing bad happened to me, but I did learn a lot of dance moves.

I got into break dancing for a while and even was able to moonwalk like Michael Jackson.  After that, I stopped dancing for about 10 years. When I moved to Hollywood, I started to go out dancing again.  I have always wanted to be a dance choreographer. I feel so free on the dance floor, I loved it.  Sometimes, I would go dancing on Friday night and Saturday night.

One year, I went to Sarasota Florida on vacation.  I decided to go to a night club one night, to dance. I start dancing, as I turn around, there are about 5 girls dancing around “Doogie Howser!” Neil Patrick Harris is  dancing, right next to me!  That was a fun night to remember.  While living in Hollywood, I would occasionally, drive into Mexico.

The Mexico border, was about a two-hour drive. Some weekends, I would go with friends to Tijuana Mexico, so we could dance. The main strip had about 30 clubs, across from each other.  We would dance until 4 a.m., then go outside to find a street grill, that was serving bacon wrapped hotdogs. Spending weekends, in Mexico was a lot of fun.

A few years later, I moved to Northern California. As I got settled into my new place, I forgot about dancing. I have not been to a night club for a long time.  It amazes me that something we clearly love, can one day disappear, like it never happened. A wise woman once told me, “if there is something you like to do and you stop doing it, you could be depressed.”

Recently, I have found my love for dancing again. I love Zumba!   I love the dances, the music, everything.   If there is something you use to like to do and haven’t done it in a while, now is the time do it. So, go and find your dusty camera, forgotten tap shoes and lost paint set, it is waiting for you.

My Hero… <3

Writing 201:  Poetry.  Day Six: Hero(ine), Ballad, Epistrophe

My Hero

She’s my comforter, my encourager

She’s my rock, my stylist

She’s my listener, my go-getter

She’s my teacher, my friend

She’s my chauffeur, my sous-chef

She’s my inspiration, my muse

She’s my hero, my mom

My memory is a little cloudy about that incident…

Writing 201: Poetry.  Day 5:  Fog, Elegy, Metaphor

My Grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, before she passed away.  Even though, I have not been diagnosed myself, some days are harder than others, for me to remember things.  In my poem, I share with you, some of my foggy moments.

My memory is a little cloudy about that incident

Why didn’t you remember?

I forgot…  What?  I forgot…

How can you forget something so important?

I don’t know?

I walk into a store, after a few minutes…  I think, where am I and why am I here.

And what do I need.

Life’s journey is a bicycle ride down the hill.

What was I doing?

Hmm… What was I doing?  I have no clue.

I took my contacts out of my eyes and threw them in the sink.

Why didn’t I put them in my contact lens case?

I put a cup of water in the microwave to make some tea.

Why did I take the cup out and drink it, while it was hot, without a tea bag?

Now…  What was I suppose to do?  I can’t think…

Life is a rollercoaster,  which every one has to go through.

I think, of a lot of things, all the time…

How can I forget the one thing, that I’m suppose to be doing.

I need milk…  I went to two stores today, but I forgot the milk!

Today is a new day, I just came back from the store, but I forgot the….

A cell phone is a light in a sea of darkness.

What is my home phone number?  *I don’t know, I don’t call myself.  I will get my cell phone, so I can tell you.”

* (Tip: sometimes, it better to use this line, instead of trying to remember your phone number, when your put on the spot)

Love is… Unknown.

Love is happy, love is sad

Love is strange, love is lame

Love is great, love is rare

Love is wonder,  love is hate

Love is demand, love is canned

Love is incredible, love is trouble

Love is nice, love is bad

Love is caring, love is daring

Love is well, love is sick

Love is fresh,  love is stale

Love is seeing, love is blind

Love is hot, love is cold

Love is smart, love is stupid

Love is sharing, love is selfish

Love is  playing, love is bashful

love is grand, love is bland

Love is sexy, love is crazy

Love is glam, love is bland

Love is real, love is fake

Love is found, love is gone

Love is close, love is distant

Love is…   Unknown…

25 Things I’ve Learned From Marrying An Italian

This post reminds me of my family. Hopefully, some of you share the same experiences.
This post is a reblog from a great writer: http://johannagallo.com/

Delightfully Chaotic

As 2014 comes to a close, I sit here smiling to myself as I think about all of the new things I’ve “learned” thanks to my year here in Italy. It’s a lovely country and so are the people, so bare in mind that these are just meant to be fun things I’ve experienced personally with my husband (who’s from southern Italy), his family and friends here, or stories I’ve heard from other expat friends. There are certainly some generalizations, but it’s only meant to be taken lightheartedly and provide a bit of laughter and insight to my oh-so-fabulous life here in Italy! 🙂

1. Cold-drafts are the devil. No really, air-conditioning will kill you, or if you’re lucky, just leave you paralyzed. In no other part of the world is cold air as deadly as it is in Italy. The slightest mention of a headache will cause them…

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Relationship… Hang ups…

Phone rings…

Girl: “Hello?”

Guy: “Hey.”

Girl: “What?”

Guy: “Huh?”

“What do you want?”

“What do you mean what?”

“What do you want?”

Guy: “Whatever.”

“What do u want?”

“I’m just checking in.”

“For what?”

“Just checking in.”

Girl: “Whatever!”

Guy: “Yeah, whatever.”

Girl hangs up the phone.

5 minutes later…

Phone rings…

              Which version do you like better?  Using Girl/Guy or Lisa/Jerry

Phone rings…

“Hello?”

“Hey Lisa.”

“What Jerry?”

“Huh?”

“What do you want Jerry?”

“What do you mean what?”

“What do you want?”  Lisa raises her voice.

“Whatever.” Jerry answers sharply.

“What do u want?”

“I’m just checking in.”

“For what?”

“Just checking in.”

Frustrated Lisa replies, “Whatever!”

Jerry shouts, “Yeah, whatever.”

Lisa hangs up the phone.

5 minutes later…

Phone rings….

One more drop…

wine 222

There was a man from Italy, who danced so elegantly.

One more drop of wine, he was sure his wife wouldn’t mind.

One drop led to another, until he finally knocked over the bread and butter.

Looking aghast, he promised he would not have another glass.

Tip toeing to his room, he knocked over the broom.

As the broom fell down, his wife looked at him with a frown.

She snapped get to bed, before you get a knock on the head…

Land of Nowhere…

The water rushed with vigor down the hill.  The animals had already left the valley.  The Indians grabbed their children and horses.  Not all of them succeed, in leaving their homes.  The ones that did survive we’re heading off to a land of nowhere…  They weren’t sure, where their next home would be.  The memories of their loved ones taken away, where too much for some to bear.  The children’s eyes filled with fright, as their mothers held them with all their might.