Marinara Stinks

Otherwise titled..."Things I've learned workin' in a dumpy pizza place~

-Pizza sounds fun....it isn't.

-Never, ever use the Parmesan cheese shakers...cheese in a warm room all day...I think that's reason enough.

-Out of control, hyped up toddlers aren't cute...especially when they've just spilt an entire pitcher of rootbeer all over the floor.

-When you order a veggie pizza for delivery & then complain that it's "soggy"-your a dumbass...it's hot, steamy vegetables trapped in a cardboard box...of course it's soggy!!

-Anchovies on a pizza??? That's just nasty

-Speaking of nasty...when little timmy loses his first tooth, don't leave it balled up on the table in a bloody napkin...

-When you show up on a friday night to celebrate your little league victory with 15 plus people, don't act shocked that we can't immediately seat you.

-And Marinara stinks

Memories and Tastebuds

The Jack in my drink swirls around in its' icy concoction, making my blood race just a little faster and the tip of my tongue impatient with profanity. It tastes like LA to me. All the dirt and the grim, all the blaring noises and opaque people. One knows that it really isn't good for you but you can't help how good it tastes, and how easily it goes down, swallow after swallow. There'll be time enough for gut aches and regrets tomorrow.

Southern Blow

I stumble to my feet. I can feel the unnatural sway of the room around me, the grit in my mouth and the blood on my tongue. I'm a survivor-no more, no less and for that I'm proud. But this blow, this pummel, this smack-has kept me down far longer than I would have thought and given fuel to the smokey whispers of defeat which swirl around me. The roaring in my ears is constant and as I shake my dizzied head, I can only guess as to which way to turn.

May May Maybe?

I've been slowly cleaning out my attic and last night I came across a box of pictures I'd taken on my 1st trip overseas. There I was outside Venice enjoying my first taste of grappa. A snapshot of crumbling ruins and gelato. Pisa, Assisi and Rome, & then me in front of the Panthon. And as I searched the 17 year old face defiantly staring up at me from its celluloid prison, I wondered where that girl had gone. Look at those dark ass eyebrows, wild and untamed, I look positively russian. And not a trace of make up upon my face. Yet somehow I looked more captivating then...more sure footed and courageous. More sure of what this world had to offer. Or more tellingly~more sure in what I had to offer.

April Already??

I am on the edge of wildness.

March the Springy

Today, while nannying, I wanted to shout out at the top of my lungs "This Kid is Not MiNe!!! Seriously!! I'm an On call Nanny and I've neVer meT them beFore!! I NevEr would have taken them to toddler playland if I knew they were gonna push Down all the baBies and have Bad Bed head all day!" Instead, I bent down and picked up all the feathered tiaras they had just knocked over and thanked the heavens that they weren't mine.

March March Already!

Well the winter gloom has finally set in and little monsters of jealousy have broken loose, and are beginning to cause havoc within my head. My mom and brother just road tripped down to LA, the land of sun n' fun, without me and I'm here, in all my soggy exuberance, hating them. On the opposite spectrum of things, my darling man told me that I have three smiles. Three uniquely, separate kinds of smiles and for him to notice that, is just beautiful=)