Dear Nephews
I just want to send you all a pre- alert incase you find your darling and sweet auntie on the front cover of the NY post. On the plane to LA and I am stuck in a middle seat next to two fat guys and there are 3 screaming children in front of me. The following might happen: give each child auntie's favorite pink pills and tell them its candy; punch the flight attendant in the face for rudely saying there is no room; and send a hit man to our travel agency in Italy, ask for irene, grab her by her hair, shove a chicken down her throat and then run her over w a loan mower. (ps it is in a small town south of naples)
Well. Xanax is starting to kick in. Love you all. Auntie
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Jurassic Park
So I was a weird kid. Like a really really weird kid. And my parents did nothing to quell or suppress it. They encouraged any weirdness that I exhibited as artistic expression, and my dad was always helping me find new and creative outlets to let my mind go crazy. I think Jurassic Park had the most influence on my life from the period I was 10 to when I was 13. When it came out in third grade, well I went bonkers over it. All kids my age did. There was a huge push by toy companies, book and magazine publishers and the media in general to jam as much dinosaur crap down kids throats as possible.
It was right around this time that I started to really explore my creative, and well.. Pretty batshit psyche. I remember I would start to concoct realities in my head, about how this raft I used to float around in, in my parents pool in the backyard, somehow had a communications device in it, which had a direct line to Steven Spielberg in Hollywood. I used to talk into the raft in the afternoon and we would discuss all the different parts of Jurassic Park which were awesome, and how Mr. Spielberg was going to whisk me off to Hollywood to star in the next Jurassic Park picture. Yes. Steven Spielberg was my childhood imaginary friend
One day while I was in the bathroom at a local italian restaurant, having a conversation with him as I usually did, because at this point my communication devices with him were everywhere. Including the mirror of the bathroom at this place called DiBrenardos. Anyways so Mr. Spielberg told me to wait on the curb in front of my house the next day at 1:00 in the afternoon and a van would be by to take me to hollywood. So the next day, and every day after that for the rest of the summer, as often as I could, I would chill at the end of my driveway sitting on the curb waiting for the Hollywood bus to come. It never did.
To fill the time between sitting on the curb, I took up a few hobbies. The first and probably most time consuming was building my own jurassic park.
Like I said, I was a really weird kid. I already had all the toys. So my dad gave me a 10 ft by 8 ft piece of plywood to start building on. And boy did I go ape shit with it. I built fences, rivers, pens for all the dinosaurs to live in and my own visitors center. I built it out of extra styrofoam laying around my dad gave me since they were remodeling the house, and had extra. I also discovered that spray paint melts styrofoam. So once I built the visitors center and painted it, it melted. Oh well.
I would make stop action movies with the dinosaurs. And my mighty morphan power rangers. ANd my nightmare before christmas toys. I made innumerable mashups of all 3 toys and ridiculous storylines which I probably stole from spaceballs or some other mel brooks movie.
It was right around this time that I started to really explore my creative, and well.. Pretty batshit psyche. I remember I would start to concoct realities in my head, about how this raft I used to float around in, in my parents pool in the backyard, somehow had a communications device in it, which had a direct line to Steven Spielberg in Hollywood. I used to talk into the raft in the afternoon and we would discuss all the different parts of Jurassic Park which were awesome, and how Mr. Spielberg was going to whisk me off to Hollywood to star in the next Jurassic Park picture. Yes. Steven Spielberg was my childhood imaginary friend
One day while I was in the bathroom at a local italian restaurant, having a conversation with him as I usually did, because at this point my communication devices with him were everywhere. Including the mirror of the bathroom at this place called DiBrenardos. Anyways so Mr. Spielberg told me to wait on the curb in front of my house the next day at 1:00 in the afternoon and a van would be by to take me to hollywood. So the next day, and every day after that for the rest of the summer, as often as I could, I would chill at the end of my driveway sitting on the curb waiting for the Hollywood bus to come. It never did.
To fill the time between sitting on the curb, I took up a few hobbies. The first and probably most time consuming was building my own jurassic park.
Like I said, I was a really weird kid. I already had all the toys. So my dad gave me a 10 ft by 8 ft piece of plywood to start building on. And boy did I go ape shit with it. I built fences, rivers, pens for all the dinosaurs to live in and my own visitors center. I built it out of extra styrofoam laying around my dad gave me since they were remodeling the house, and had extra. I also discovered that spray paint melts styrofoam. So once I built the visitors center and painted it, it melted. Oh well.
I would make stop action movies with the dinosaurs. And my mighty morphan power rangers. ANd my nightmare before christmas toys. I made innumerable mashups of all 3 toys and ridiculous storylines which I probably stole from spaceballs or some other mel brooks movie.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Weird Dreams
So last night I had a really weird dream. I was going to the academy awards, but the academy awards were actually just a screening of the movie Precious, starring the impeccable Gabourey Sidibe. When I got to the movie theater I was in my blue sequin dress from Halloween, and sat in front of queen latifah. She wasn't wearing makeup. I also brought my mom a present, the wedding dress that Blousezilla wore on Halloween. It's this awful gold lame' number which was labeled "80s gold digger wedding dress like Joan Collins would have worn on dynasty." nuff said
So anyways I show up to the academy awards in my dress, bringing my mom a dress. And guess what. For some reason my mom is Beyonce. I was excited, but she wasn't in her seat, so naturally I started screeching at Queen Latifah, asking her where Beyonce was. Of course she was in spin class. I went to spin class in the victorian mansion next door, where there were a bunch of starts sitting on exercise bikes listening to Harry Belafonte give them a speech on how to act during the awards.
At this point, my mom was no longer Beyonce, but was Alecia Keys, and Harry Belafonte was her father.
Suffice to say, I don't rememeber much of what happened next, but I know it involved the terrorists from the show 24 blowing up the house, but I escaped, wearing gold, leopard print stilettos.
So anyways I show up to the academy awards in my dress, bringing my mom a dress. And guess what. For some reason my mom is Beyonce. I was excited, but she wasn't in her seat, so naturally I started screeching at Queen Latifah, asking her where Beyonce was. Of course she was in spin class. I went to spin class in the victorian mansion next door, where there were a bunch of starts sitting on exercise bikes listening to Harry Belafonte give them a speech on how to act during the awards.
At this point, my mom was no longer Beyonce, but was Alecia Keys, and Harry Belafonte was her father.
Suffice to say, I don't rememeber much of what happened next, but I know it involved the terrorists from the show 24 blowing up the house, but I escaped, wearing gold, leopard print stilettos.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
E-mail from Dad 11.20.2008
I spent about 30 years in NYC and was never mugged, assaulted, robbed, etc.
Things are different now with much unemployment and desperate people.
Growing up on LI you were sort of sheltered. I don't
want to go to visit you in a hospital or worse so:
Walk in well-lit areas.
Don't walk alone.
Avoid late night travel: bus, train, streets.
Don't dress as an attractive target with jewelery, shoes, nice clothes, etc.
If a guy wants a handout give the universal sign of both palms open, palms
facing up and say "sorry". If you ignore the guy they sometimes get pissed.
If you are faced with with a mugger or robber DON'T BE A HERO; GIVE THEM WHAT
THEY WANT. Material things are replaced; your health and life aren't worth
losing over things.
Avoid eye contact w/passersby.
If you are in the company of dicks looking for a fight leave them. He who
doesn't fight today lives to fight another day.
Add your own caveats. The aforementioned have served me well over the
decades.
Have situational awareness: building construction, stairway hazards,
traffic and sidewalk hazards (grates, covers, doors, breaks) overhead dangers,
wires, odors (hydrocarbons, naturtal gas, smoke), sounds, building vibrations.
Look before walking into elevators.
Run and yell.
Bra
Love Dad
Things are different now with much unemployment and desperate people.
Growing up on LI you were sort of sheltered. I don't
want to go to visit you in a hospital or worse so:
Walk in well-lit areas.
Don't walk alone.
Avoid late night travel: bus, train, streets.
Don't dress as an attractive target with jewelery, shoes, nice clothes, etc.
If a guy wants a handout give the universal sign of both palms open, palms
facing up and say "sorry". If you ignore the guy they sometimes get pissed.
If you are faced with with a mugger or robber DON'T BE A HERO; GIVE THEM WHAT
THEY WANT. Material things are replaced; your health and life aren't worth
losing over things.
Avoid eye contact w/passersby.
If you are in the company of dicks looking for a fight leave them. He who
doesn't fight today lives to fight another day.
Add your own caveats. The aforementioned have served me well over the
decades.
Have situational awareness: building construction, stairway hazards,
traffic and sidewalk hazards (grates, covers, doors, breaks) overhead dangers,
wires, odors (hydrocarbons, naturtal gas, smoke), sounds, building vibrations.
Look before walking into elevators.
Run and yell.
Bra
Love Dad
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