So I’m really glad my friends pushed me into striking up a conversation with that Russian guy at the coffee shop yesterday. We traded numbers and friended each other on Facebook. So far we’ve poked each other (on Facebook) and he likes a couple of my posts.
I don’t even know what part of Italy Amatrice is in. Is it near Bari, where my mother’s people come from? Near Reggio Calabria, where my father’s people come from?
I know I’ve never seen Amatrice, but right now it probably looks just like September 12, 2001 in lower Manhattan. Rubble everywhere and people not knowing if their loved ones are alive under there. A hell on earth nobody wants to see, let alone live through.
In the chaos, fire fighters will be lauded as heroes. And rightly so…they’re heroes all along, and it’s fucking sad the earth has to swallow a town before anyone realizes it.
I don’t wonder what the people of Amatrice will do. I know they’ll rebuild. I know the long tradition of Italians in carpentry and construction (a traditional my grandfather, a cabinetmaker, was part of), a tradition that carries over into the US. Amatrice looks a mess now, but they’ll hang a sign that says “Under Construction” and rebuild the whole thing. You’ll see.
And my mother can’t (really she won’t) go to the outlets in Deer Park unless both my sister and I go with her. And my sister made plans to have lunch with a friend, so my (now very angry) mother wouldn’t go to Deer Park. But she wouldn’t stay home. So the two of us are at the Roosevelt Field mall and the outlets will be another day. I’m not complaining. I bought my first pair of Toms, so I’m set for fall casual shoes.
The hot tub is glorious. That is all.
It’s official. I’m going back to school. I got an email this afternoon saying I’ve been accepted to LIU’s MLS program starting fall 2016. I start after Labor Day.
My friends are all busy with their relationships and their kids & I’m over here like
I’m getting to old to wear heels everyday & I need moisturizer at night, but where’s the party tonight.