HAPPY HALLOWEEN

EVERYONE!!!

CONGRATULATIONS,

Stacy & Edweeeeeen!!!

persevere [pur-suh-veer]
to persist in anything undertaken; maintain a purpose in spite of difficulty, obstacles, or discouragement; continue steadfastly
Synonyms include: endure, stand firm, pursue, carry on

Fr. Joe should get an award for his timing - honestly. He never fails to have the right things to say at the right time. This past Sunday he spoke for 15 minutes about one word...persevere. We often hear it in stories where victory or relief is achieved despite the adversity. "Through it all, they persevered" is how the stories usually end. But this sermon had a slight twist. It wasn't just about perseverance through hardship; it was perseverance through prayer.

He said that people often confuse prayer for magic; that we sometimes make a request through a few prayers and expect results instantaneously. Not that seemingly unanswered prayers are said in vain. It's just that, the result or the granted wish is not the point of praying. It's the experience we undergo during the action; the turning to God and the strengthening of our faith, the hope that whatever happens will be for the best. P.U.S.H. Fr. Joe said.

Pray Until Something Happens

So we don't always get the results that we hope for. So we don't get what we think we want or need. I read somewhere that:

Not getting what you want is God's way of telling you that He has something better planned.

God has a plan - got it!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY,

MOTHER!!!

Happy Birthday

to my Grandfather,

who makes 81 look like 61!

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY

ATE!!!

wanderlust [won-der-luhst]
a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about
Synonyms include: love of journeys

I figured, what heck, it hasn't been a year since our trip and I only have 2 more cities to blog about so why not? So here we are...where did we leave off? Oh yeah...

Mission #10 - Brave the Italian Open Road...again

Point of Origin - Florence, Italy

Destination - Siena, Italy

It's very hard not to think of running away from the sometimes mundane lives that we lead when we can think of a hundred places we'd so rather be. Since the ability to teleport from one location to another in a matter of seconds is not available to all, I often rely on something else to help me escape boredom, repression and sadness - memory.

If there were a place like Siena a few hours away from Glendale, I'm sure you'd find me driving through a lush countryside to get there (maybe in a Peugot much like the one Pat and Seong maneuvered above)...

Maybe sitting in the middle of a square (or in Siena's case - a shell), writing vigorously about the little boy kicking the soccer ball back and forth with his father or the nuns walking through with rosaries hanging from their belts...

Possibly watching a group of friends taking silly pictures in front of every interesting landmark they came upon...

Or uselessly trying to protect my head from a swarm of pigeons flying through yet somehow not caring because the cup of gelato in my hand causes the greatest distraction.

Siena is just that kind of place that draws you in to its distinct architecture, layout and aura. The fact that every single building is brownstone and every street is narrow enough that you question its functionality until you see pedestrians nonchalantly step aside when a Mini Cooper or vespa comes whizzing by; it's just surreal for visitors such as ourselves to ingest.

What I miss most about Italy is the reverence you feel you owe to the food being served to you at every meal. Plates aren't jaded with too much garnish (if any at all) and fistfuls of food so massive you feel your heart tighten just by looking at it. Food there is placed in front of you with the greatest of pride by waiters dressed in suits, and your glass of wine sits nearby, waiting to make sure every morsel you eat is an experience you will probably never forget.

One of the funniest recurrences on this trip was Cile's dealings with zippers...especially her bag's and jacket's zippers. She seemed to make this face every time she wanted to zip up and though it made me smile every time I saw it, it made helping her zip up even more worthwhile.

It is truly another world over there. Looking at this picture, you'd never know it was taken in 2006. The preservation of cities such as this is nothing less than extraordinary.

We were eager travellers, knowing when to stop to appreciate a local musing and knowing when keep walking to stay on schedule, though our timetable, truth be told, was barely ever pushed to its limit.

Yes, driving in Italy was quite the task...and so was being a passenger. The fact that lanes are not always defined, and no one seems to know who has the right of way was an entertaining, albeit frightening experience. Listening to music in the car was hilarious as well. We often found ourselves either trying to decipher the Italian language, listening to the same English songs over and over again (John Legend and Usher, you guys are popular over there), there was also the mp3 player option. Unfortunately, finding a station was tricky....unless you're resourceful of course. You freakin' jerks, find your own damn antenna!

Like we did everyday, we started, continued and ended the daily excursions with food and wine. Is there, really, a more appropriate way?

oh cile...it's 2:45 am and we're still talking....HAHAHA!!!

confidante [kon-fi-dahnt]
a woman to whom secrets are confided or with whom private matters and problems are discussed; woman character in a drama or fiction, such as a trusted friend or servant, who serves as a device for revealing the inner thoughts or intentions of a main character
Synonyms include: advisor, bosom buddy, companion

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them." Though stupidity is relative (though not too relative as Forrest Gump reminds us, "stupid is as stupid does"), friendship remains to be a blessing; a savior when foolishness seems to surround you like a dark, unforgiving aura.

People keep asking me this week how I'm doing. I'd almost forgotten how terrible I felt the two weeks before this one came around; how often I avoided human contact (in all forms) because I knew speaking about everything that was bothering me only made me want to cry that much more. I think the reason why this low point felt like the lowest I've ever felt, is because I know I brought myself down here, I did this, it's my fault. Maybe I wanted to punish myself or maybe I just needed a moment to accept responsibility for something I didn't want to.

No one is responsible for my circumstances except me. I want to engrave that into my psyche, push my face down on it and taunt myself into a hard lesson learned. But along always comes an angel to drive away the inner bullies, help me up to stand, dust me off, fill my gas tank, treat me to dinner, go with me to see a random movie, email me at work all day, chat with me until 2 am on a worknight, ask me if I'm okay, text me to say it'll be okay, invite me over for some no frills bonding time, hug me like they hadn't seen me in years, remind me of what I'm capable of, tell me I deserve good things. Being independent is a great thing, but allowing yourself to depend on the angels you have here on earth is an even greater feeling.

I've been saved...again....

modus operandi [moh-duhs op-uh-ran-dee]

mode of operating or working; The way someone does something; a characteristic method

Synonyms include: M.O., approach, process, technique

I heard (or rather finally took notice of) the phrase, "That's your M.O."watching Sister Act 2. Whoopi Goldberg said it to a pre-Fugees Lauryn Hill. Thereafter I heard it everywhere - on tv, in more movies, etc. I tried to glean meaning from the context and the more I heard it, the more clued in I got into what it meant. It's the way you handle situations, the way you work, your unique system of operating.

Each of us has an M.O. - our own way of handling and reacting to life's moments of joy and daily nuisances. Our M.O.'s are often our saving grace (read: excuse), as in, "She can't help it. This is how she is." Ironically, it's also frequently the one thing we'd like to change about ourselves but are too afraid to for fear we will suffer consequences of self-destruction if we choose to be other than who we're so used to being. Oh if only the human condition came with an instruction manual so we wouldn't have to figure it out for ourselves.

These past few weeks for me could've done with some written instructions, not to mention a few cautionary bulletpoints to match. My M.O. was in fragmented disaray, as ableness was crushed by the hands of uncertainty, hope fell at the feet of despair, and community sought only seclusion. My M.O. in the face of challenge was a desire to shut down, shut out, and cave in.

Whether it has been financial difficulty, seemingly-continuous car problems, or just plain heartache, I realize how often and how quickly I am forced to choose a mode of continuance - a plan. My mistake this time around was fearing it was too late to have one.

Maybe my new M.O. should be to suck it up and just get on with it.