Saturday, January 29, 2011

Perhaps the greatest book ever published. Perhaps not.

I wish I had a certain fondness for cleaning. But I do not. The only time I feel any inclination toward tidying up is when I am incredibly frustrated. So, therefore a well-kept living space is a sign of an unhappy Roni.

However, this Saturday morning necessity dictated I pick up my crap, as some strangers were coming to tromp through our home. I scrubbed the toilet, hung up the clothes I'd draped over my desk chair, and even ventured to cover-up some of the mess in my sister's room. And that is where I found the long-lost gem Snappy Put-Downs & Funny Insults. Possibly the greatest and worst collection of words ever published.

The text came to my family in a box filled with old children's books that had belonged to my uncle and father, and this book had clearly been my uncle's, and he had even decorated the pages with slightly disturbing stickers of the Garbage Pail Kids. Since the day it arrived in my hands, probably more than ten years ago, it has provided me with my favorite mean or sarcastic remarks. Notably, "Why don't you reach down into your heart and grab me a piece of ice?" (page 90) and "They used to say your brother looked like you, but then they turned him right side up." (page 60)

It is the pinnacle of crackpot juvenile writing. I would never say the things contained in these pages to anyone except in a very clear jest. I mean it would be hurtful to say "Don't go to a mind reader, go to a palmist. At least I know you've got a palm," (page 38) or "The closest you'll ever get to being the toast of the town is a sunburn" (page8). Although, I do like, "You should be on the parole board, you never let anyone finish a sentence." (page 69).

Saturday, January 22, 2011

i made some resolutions

You may not be able to readily read what those resolutions are as I used my webcam to photograph the list of my objectives for 2011. (Many a schoolteacher has told me unwritten goals are just wishes.) However, mark my words (that you can only decipher by holding your computer screen up to a mirror), I shall accomplish all of these goals. I applied to the NYC Marathon not less than an hour ago. Look for me on November 6, 2011. I'm thinking of purchasing some purple spandex for the occasion. Would a violet spandex bodysuit be too much?

Futher, as soon as I am done with this post I shall zip down to the grocery store and by myself a hearty supply of floss. After that, I'll break out the accordion and rehash "Mary Had a Little Lamb."

And don't worry the brain is stewing up plans for how to accomplish "WRITE A BOOK" and "VISIT BRITAIN" before the year is up.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

expatriat-ing

Instead of taking small, reasonable steps to get my life out of a rut, I jump to crazy solutions.

I am moving to Britain. Preferably London, as that is notoriously the most thriving city of the UK.

The dilemma I face (besides the student debt that haunts my present and my future) is that nobody wants any foreigners in their country. Well, the UK is fairly liberal towards allowing members of their commonwealth (i.e. Canada) to enter into their country and become candidates for employment. You get screwed over if your rebellious ancestors were too haughty to pay a little tax and decided to start a big fight over it. (I mean, the British did send their troops to protect their citizens and territory from the French and Indians. If I say I would have been a Tory rather than a Patriot, can I come to London?)

However, I have a potential plan. I'll move to Italy first, with my grandmother. Since my grandma's grandma was native-born Italian, she qualifies for Italian citizenship, or at the least, an Italian passport. Once she has a passport, I can use her as my gateway to Italian citizenship. Once I have that, I'll be a citizen of the EU and maybe the Brits won't be so lithe to treat me with disdain.

But I do love Italy, I could just stay there.

But I want to meet a certain Irishman I have developed a little crush on from watching the British sitcom The IT Crowd. So, I've got to spend some time on the island. And as much as I love Italian, there is something to be said for sweet release of conversing in your mother tongue.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

2010: an inventory

In no particular order:

  • went skydiving
  • earned a Master of Arts in Italian Studies: Literature and Civilization
  • learned the very basics of knitting
  • learned to crochet little hats
  • visited New York City
  • bought and promptly crashed a moped
  • visited Kentucky
  • spent the first five months of the year as a resident of Florence, Italy
  • turned 22
  • saw my little sister graduate high school
I spent the eve of 2011 in front of the fireplace eating almond joys and watching romantic British period pieces, until I fell asleep prior to midnight. Fortunately, my dad ran down the stairs and woke me by shouting the customary, "Happy New Year." I have this wonderful gut instinct that this is going to be a fantastic twelve months. I'm ready to make 2010 look mundane.