Wednesday, October 05, 2011

Mother-daughter
If you say it fast it sounds like hormone slaughter. No? Try it again. Twelve times. Get a little louder each time to no avail. Then lose your patience. Now burst into tears. . . Sound like it now? I thought so. 

Today my friend Paola and I were commiserating about how the girls are really pushing the limits sometimes, and, although this is a natural part of growing up, we waste so much time arguing about things in an almost constant struggle of boundary setting and removal. In Italian there is an expression that means "to scold someone" but it is more poetically translated as "washing the head" of somebody. She said I shouldn't feel bad because she had data una lavata di capo/washed the head of her daughter so many times this week that her capelli dovevano essere risplendenti/hair should be resplendent by now. And that, my mommy friends across the world. is the quote of the week.

On an up note, T guided me home with her voice after I couldn't find my way back from the gym in the dark, what with all the whizzing motorcycles and little cars in the pitch black night on the roads with no sidewalks past the train tracks. It was atrocious. This was after I taught with the doors to the classroom open as my boss suggested. At some point there were so many mosquitoes in the joint that some of them started doing push ups in between sets of biting my ass and every other place they could get to. I had a whopping three people in one class and five in the other, but it was the first day back in the gym after we had been outdoors on the walls for the past two weeks. Since no one has ever heard of treadmill dancing, strip tease jokes while working with large pink elastic bands, or stretching by rolling out one's body on fitness balls, they all think that I am seriously beyond bizarre. But I am going to make people fit and a little scatenata/wild, one Lucchese at a time, until the whole city is in the palm of my hand. Along with a bunch of dead mosquitoes.

Arrivederci, Brooklyn!


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