Life according to a Sicilian.......

A closer look at our annual fishing trip. We all caught fish, though, Luchia caught the most- 4. I managed to get 3. we left at 4 PM and returned at 8:30, and the captain invited me to drive the boat and all of the 20 passengers back to the port. That was the best- in the dark I might add.

I look forward to the upcoming weekend. O.K. this is a big deal to me;
Every year we try and get together and meet up in long island for our annual fishing trip. My father has come out for it the last time we did it, and it was great. It was his first time in long island and he had a great time with us as well as Sasha’s family. This weekend we will do it again, but with my mother, brother and his wife from Sicily. She flew in Monday night to meet my brother in Virginia, when he got off the ship from a 2 month cruise. They are driving up to my parents and they will be here on Friday night. On Saturday morning we will drive out and go on a chartered fishing boat in the afternoon for “Strips”. Now, my mother, in the past 7 years has never been out to long island, met any family there so this is going to be interesting. It’s very hard to get my mother to leave “Bumblefuck”, New York to do anything.
I hope that we all get along and have a great weekend with everyone. I also hope to take a lot of pictures and catch a bunch of fish. Last time I had the record on the boat. The time before I didn’t catch anything except a claim and a star fish. Though there was a little girl I wanted desperately to throw off the boat, she was the “WHY” Girl…

will write more of my story soon, there are things for me to do this week..and I meet with the college Tomorrow.

I look forward to the upcoming weekend. O.K. this is a big deal to me;
Every year we try and get together and meet up in long island for our annual fishing trip. My father has come out for it the last time we did it, and it was great. It was his first time in long island and he had a great time with us as well as Sasha’s family. This weekend we will do it again, but with my mother, brother and his wife from Sicily. She flew in Monday night to meet my brother in Virginia, when he got off the ship from a 2 month cruise. They are driving up to my parents and they will be here on Friday night. On Saturday morning we will drive out and go on a chartered fishing boat in the afternoon for “Strips”. Now, my mother, in the past 7 years has never been out to long island, met any family there so this is going to be interesting. It’s very hard to get my mother to leave “Bumblefuck”, New York to do anything.
I hope that we all get along and have a great weekend with everyone. I also hope to take a lot of pictures and catch a bunch of fish. Last time I had the record on the boat. The time before I didn’t catch anything except a claim and a star fish. Though there was a little girl I wanted desperately to throw off the boat, she was the “WHY” Girl…

will write more of my story soon, there are things for me to do this week..and I meet with the college Tomorrow.

I need to focus on this ideal as well:

“Then close your eyes, tap your heals and think to yourself, ‘There’s no place like home…’”. be

- a metaphor for the inner work that is needed to discover our true selves; that Home is inside of ourselves, i.e., our Essence. Metaphorically, only the Self can acknowledge (validate) that oneself is whole and complete.

The process of Liberation is not having to “get” something outside of ourselves in order to become complete. Instead, we need only acknowledge the value within ourselves that always has been present, our Essence.

(I added more to the story but started at the beginning, so it runs into what was added. hope you like it-)



The jagged teeth of the comb fought through the greasiness of her matted dark hair. Her swollen and malnourished eyes peered out of the 17th story dormer window. Her hand sluggishly pushed the comb halfheartedly over the right side of her head. The comb like tips of blades gnawed at the exhausted strands of hair. Reluctant to push the comb over the last portion of her head she was then overcome with sickness. She ran into the kitchenette and discharged the contents of her stomach into the sink. A white foamy whirlpool lay thick and rank at the bottom of the discolored basin. Her eyes reflection, red and teary as she ran the cold tap, lapping from her cupped hands. A faint hope of washing the bitter sour taste from her mouth. Her body then descended into shivers while her body broke out in a cold sweat. She needed that fix or she would go out of her mind. One of her sleazy dealers told her he would be there in the morning to drop off her daily rock of dope. It was one PM and her body knew more unspeakable torment than she. She slumped in crude form on the sticky discolored sheets of her single mattress. She raked her half chewed fingernails over the bloody cankered bumps along her right arm. She began to disrupt the scabs of her tracks until her arm looked like streaks of varnish on virgin wood. She sat impoverished while she pruned from an unweeded garden of nettles.
Her stomach felt uneasy again as she thought about the deliverance of the needle that she wanted to slide into her hot hungry vein. The ends of her hair dripped like a leaky water tap absorbing into the fabric of her tattered shirt sleeve. The bones of her fingers snapped as she ran her fingers through her matted wet hair. She pulled her bangs away from her eyes to the back of her head. Her fingers became stuck in what felt like a cocoon of knots. She had not finished combing the back of her hair. She searched franticly around the room for the comb while succumbing to the heavy residue still in her mind. A hard knock at the door yanked her out of deep thought.


Her Maleficent saint stood heavy at her door. The author of all things who was her savior. She was now exempt from future punishments. Her vestal body knelt obscenely before his judgment, his retributive justice. His angelic hand revealed the silver wrapped sacrament now unearthed to her. Her regeneration, her morning prayer now answered. She scurried along the dirty carpet for foil and lighter. She quickly turned the rock to liquid on the bent spoon. Her teeth clutched the needle while she searched her arms for a vein. The liquid flushed out of the needle and christened her in divine light. Confessions ran ramped through her mind while tears welt up in her eyes. Water flowed out of the tear ducts and remission of sin ran down her cheeks. Her subconscious self ran to hold her unconscious self then slowly fell back into the mattress. She was freed from earthly pain deep within the monastery of the needle.

I have begun to write this story- finally. I created it in my mind last year and only now have begun to write it. little by little, keep coming back to read more - i will do my best to keep up with it.....

..............TOOTH & NAIL.............

The jagged teeth of the comb fought through the greasiness of her matted dark hair. Her swollen and malnourished eyes peered out of the 17th story dormer window. Her hand sluggishly pushed the comb halfheartedly over the right side of her head. The comb like tips of blades gnawed at the exhausted strands of hair. Reluctant to push the comb over the last portion of her head she was then overcome with sickness. She ran into the kitchenette and discharged the contents of her stomach into the sink. A white foamy whirlpool lay thick and rank at the bottom of the discolored basin. Her eyes reflection, red and teary as she ran the cold tap, lapping from her cupped hands. A faint hope of washing the bitter sour taste from her mouth. Her body then descended into shivers while her body broke out in a cold sweat. She needed that fix or she would go out of her mind. One of her sleazy dealers told her he would be there in the morning to drop off her daily rock of dope. It was one PM and her body knew more unspeakable torment than she. She slumped in crude form on the sticky discolored sheets of her single mattress. She raked her half chewed fingernails over the bloody cankered bumps along her right arm. She began to disrupt the scabs of her tracks until her arm looked like streaks of varnish on virgin wood. She sat impoverished while she pruned from an unweeded garden of nettles.

While we were at a defensive driving class yesterday we came across a woman who claimed to be a pet Psychic, yes you heard me correctly. This woman makes a business out of it….we couldn’t stop laughing. We were on the discussion of what the drivers manual considered as domesticated animals. The instructor than went on to add: that this woman speaks to animals- a sort of Animal-whisperer if you like. She got a degree in it at a local college. She runs a Psychic business on the side and says that she does readings over the phone because she is allergic to animals. In her article that she handed out to everyone, she stated that Cats are not very interesting to listen to. They are too into themselves, saying things like: how they look or how nice their fur is and how they compare with other cats. Cats are more particular (than dogs) about what they want to talk about and it’s mostly about themselves. Humm, talk about drawing attention to oneself. Maybe she might do a reading on her dead cat to find he left a little stinky present in her bed. Only in Nyack- I hope.

Morning mother’s ink
Her quill is split
Her finger broke
Her arm asleep
Her shoulder creeks
Her neck to stiff

Her mouth mute
Her eyes dried shut
Her mind asleep

Her paper deserted

Life is a septic tank
Full of it-
We are born in it
We wash in it

Interrupted

Like a hard oiled fuck machine
We are born in it.
We hope to rise from
The septic tank.

we are driving down to florida and aint agustine in a week or so- sounds great. that is where the fountain of youth was believed to be- very french and spanish old old city- like new orleans. we were there a few years ago and it was so beautiful-we took a lot of walking ghost tours at night and it was so cool- i never wanted to leave. did you ever feel at home in a city you have never been to?

THE MAGIC ORICLE IS DEAD

CHESHIRE, Ore. - An Oregon woman was arraigned Tuesday, accused of shooting her husband after he shot her pet chicken.
The Eugene Register-Guard reported that Mary Kay Gray, 58, was jailed Monday on felony assault charges.
Her husband, Stanley Gray, is recovering from a gunshot wound to the shoulder. The chicken died at the scene.

Lane County sheriff's Sgt. Clint Riley said the couple had been working around their yard and drinking on Labor Day. They got into an argument after Stanley Gray shot the chicken with a .44-caliber handgun.
Police don't know if the shooting was intentional or an accident. "It depends on who you ask," Riley said.
But sheriff's deputies said Gray shot her husband with a .22-caliber rifle in an apparent act of retaliation.
"It looked like `CSI,'" said neighbor Cheyenne Dickenson, who arrived home Monday night to find police cars parked at the end of the driveway she shares with the Grays the Register-Guard reported. "There were dead chickens lying all over the place."

HERE IS A FANTASTIC WEBSITE:

http://www.bizarrerecords.com

I contacted two schools in the area for a teaching degree. One and 1/2 years or 36 credits. there are a lot of incentives, financial help, internships and scholarships.
Because I have a bachelors degree there are a lot of things for me that will ease the financial Burdon and still get me in and out somewhat quickly. Harrah!


I think I will do some writing today, it has been a while- ok too long. I told a friend about my old stories and there was a brief shock to my system that it has been far too long. I need a strong cup of creativity..................

new photos on flicker from holiday weekend-
We invited two close friends up to my parents house for the annual Harvest Festival in Cherry Valley, New York.
Carma and Josh came with us for the first time to my parents house. we picked them up in Montesselo, and proceeded up-state. it was a very rainy and cold weekend. it was in the low 60's and there was a lot of rain. the weather was bad because of the hurricane that made its way up from Florida. we had a bom fire the first night and hung out at my parents. the following day we went to Cooperstown to see friends and then drove to the harvest festival. at the farm there were a lot of people. we had dinner and sat down in the barn to await the bands. they were aweful. the daughter of the owners sang in a band and was retched. country music- yuck. then the next band came on- they were from auston, TX. we thought they would play rock-a-billy because they were in their 20's and had a stand up base, but it was Country music again....so we left. it took 30 minutes to warm up in the car. there were branches down all over the road from the high winds and rain. we heard that rockland was getting smashed with high winds and rain, to the point you could not see directly in front of you and power was lost to thousands, so it was a good weekend to get away even though it was cold upstate. when we got back the sun was finally out and warm, close to 80. had a great weekend though the weather could have been better- our friend josh got really sick, we hope we dont get it........glad they came with us and had fun-

new photos on flicker from holiday weekend-
We invited two close friends up to my parents house for the annual Harvest Festival in Cherry Valley, New York.
Carma and Josh came with us for the first time to my parents house. we picked them up in Montesselo, and proceeded up-state. it was a very rainy and cold weekend. it was in the low 60's and there was a lot of rain. the weather was bad because of the hurricane that made its way up from Florida. we had a bom fire the first night and hung out at my parents. the following day we went to Cooperstown to see friends and then drove to the harvest festival. at the farm there were a lot of people. we had dinner and sat down in the barn to await the bands. they were aweful. the daughter of the owners sang in a band and was retched. country music- yuck. then the next band came on- they were from auston, TX. we thought they would play rock-a-billy because they were in their 20's and had a stand up base, but it was Country music again....so we left. it took 30 minutes to warm up in the car. there were branches down all over the road from the high winds and rain. we heard that rockland was getting smashed with high winds and rain, to the point you could not see directly in front of you and power was lost to thousands, so it was a good weekend to get away even though it was cold upstate. when we got back the sun was finally out and warm, close to 80. had a great weekend though the weather could have been better- our friend josh got really sick, we hope we dont get it........glad they came with us and had fun-