Friday, April 28, 2006

On Blogging

I've received more than a few emails on the state of my blog lately. Some were kind, some were not (fuck you), which got me to thinking about where I'm going with this thing. So, here's what I've come up with so far:

The appearance...

If you haven't already noticed, I've been making some changes around here. A little "spring cleaning," if you will. Maybe you like it, maybe you don't. To tell you the truth, I don't really give a shit. I like it, and that's all that matters.

As for my blogroll...

I've been struggling with whether or not to take this down completely. I feel horrible (not really) when someone sends me an e-mail saying, "I've linked to you for ages. Why don't you link to me?" Then I read Chicky's blog, and she makes a very valid point.

My blogroll is a reflection of me. It's a list of sites I enjoy most in the blog world at this moment, and who I relate to at this place in time. If I don't link to you, it is by no means a statement of my dislike for you or your blog (well, maybe it is, but I'll never tell), and I hope you won't take it as a personal insult. If you do, you're an idiot, and you need to get a life. It's a blog, people! Priorities, please!

The direction...

I've been a little bit stuck lately with bloggers-block. It's not that I don't have things to write about, because I do. What I'm struggling with, though, is my voice. I went back to the very beginning in hopes of finding it again. This is what I found:

"It's my journal of my search for that one person that I actually WANT to drive me crazy for the rest of my life."

Well, that certainly explains it, huh? My voice has changed, because I've changed. I'm no longer in search of that person. I've found him, and everything in my life is different now because of him. So it would make sense that I change direction a bit, no? I'm just not sure where to begin.

Maybe once I've moved it will be easier for me. I'll have a whole new set of experiences to write about when I'm living in a world so totally different than the one I'm used to. I'll tell you of being driven crazy by the BF when he leaves his underwear on the floor. Won't that be interesting? Until then, though, I'm going to keep trying. I'm not prepared to give this up just yet. I enjoy it too much.

So, I guess that's it for now. I hope you'll stick it out with me and keep on stopping by. But if you don't, that's ok too. It's a decision only you can make, and I won't hold it against you. Well, not much.



p.s. I'm working a 12 hour shift at the bar this Saturday. The Cubs are at home and playing Milwaukee. I hate serving those miserable cheeseheads, so this weekend should create some fairly good stories for Monday. Pray for me.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Un-Happy HNT

Yep. That's me. Sitting on the bed. All alone.
Alone, alone, alone.
This long distance shit sucks.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Sleepless Nights

I've always been a sound sleeper. Ask my mother if you don't believe me. She's told me over and over again about how she often thought about setting off some form of explosive under my bed when I was younger, just to get me out of it. When I was a baby, my parents used to take me to stock car races (insert your favorite white trash joke here - we were get your entertainment where you can), and I'd sleep right through them.

Lately, though, I can barely fall asleep. When I lay my head down on the pillow and close my eyes, my mind begins to race. Issues of the day and my thoughts of the future weigh heavily on me now. There's so much to do, so much to plan for...and I have no idea how to get it all done before I get on a plane, headed towards my new life.

I think about my need to find a job in an unfamiliar country, of leaving the cushy one I have here. I worry about being a financial drain on him, even though he says not to. I fear that I won't make new friends and that I'll miss my loved ones terribly. I worry about not being able to attain a visa. But mostly, I'm terrified that I'll move 9000 plus miles away from everything I know, and he'll decide he really doesn't love me after all.

Worse than the troubled thoughts, though, is the simple fact that I miss having him next to me at night. His scent is gone from my pillows now. He's not here to wrap his arms around tell me to not be afraid. There's no warmth and comfort in my bed without him. Once a place of refuge, it's slowly become my enemy.

I'm tired and weary now. Am I fated to insomnia until he's next to me again? I'm not sure if my mind and heart can take it. I want to be strong, but laying alone in a dark, silent house is nearly impossible to bear. But what can I do? Responsibilities and obligations are forcing us to be apart for a while longer.
If I were being rational, I'd tell myself that every problem has a solution, and I'd fall fast asleep. Who ever said, though, that the things we do for love are rational? So, I must wait, because I have no other choice. Until then, all I have are daydreams of a peaceful sleep.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

No Shit, Sherlock.

You are a

Social Liberal
(61% permissive)

and an...

Economic Liberal
(26% permissive)

You are best described as a:


Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid
Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

Found this over at the Madman's place. I always knew I was a flaming liberal. Take it, and let me know you're results. I'm curious to know who's IP Addresses I should be blocking from my site. Just kidding. Maybe.

Monday, April 24, 2006

Boys and Their Toys

If there's one thing I've learned about men, it's to never come between them and their toys. Video games, for example, used to be my enemy. I hated the fact that some guys I'd dated enjoyed blowing shit up in a virtual world more than they enjoyed spending time in the real world with me. I once left a bar where a boyfriend got caught up playing Golden Tee with his buddies. It was two hours before he realized I was gone. Needless to say, that relationship didn't last much longer.

As I've gotten older, though, I've realized that there are some fights I'll never win, and wars that are just not worth waging. If it makes my guy happy to detail his car all afternoon, so be it. As long as he's in a good mood when he's around me, that's all that matters. Call it gaining wisdom and perspective with age if you want, I call it relationship preservation. So that's why I had to giggle after this conversation with the BF today:

ME: Nothing good on TV tonight, except Sopranos. I'm bored to tears.

BF: You need an X Box.

ME: No thank you, honey. It's bad enough I'll have to make friends with yours when I'm there.

BF: I promise to neglect mine once you're here.

ME: No, no. I know better than to come between men and their toys.

BF: But you are my toy.

ME: I think you may wish to rephrase that last line...

BF: Had a look at the line...nope, says everything I wanted to say...dry humor, a little sarcasm...and an underlying need to play with you for a few hours.

ME: So basically, I'm just a plaything, subject to your whim?

BF: Cautiously (looking for a trap) yes...

ME: Well, I'm glad we got that straight. So, X Box for when you feel the need to blow things up, and me for when you're feeling horny?

BF: Is there a problem with that?

ME: No problem, just making sure I know my role, since I'm moving 9000 plus miles to be with you. I'd hate to get there and disappoint you.

BF: Don't worry. The X Box with gather lots of dust when you are here.

Nothing changes much as they get older, does it? Yes, maybe the choice of toy...but, oh, how they love to play with them. I guess boys really will be boys, and I, for one, won't be doing any complaining about that.

Friday, April 21, 2006

Trixie's Got Herself a New Toy

No post today, kids. This fairy just received her new notebook computer, and needs her time to play. In other words, I really need to pay attention to what I'm doing so I don't blow it up.

I'll be back next week, ready to astound and entertain you - or bore the shit out of you - with my words and wisdom.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

Hugs and Kisses,


Thursday, April 20, 2006

Trixie Does Playboy - Happy HNT

Ok, I'm not REALLY doing Playboy...but I've got a Playboy Bunny!
Got your attention, though, didn't I?

Photo Credits:
New Lace Panties courtesy of the BF
Fake Tan courtesy of Ultimate Exposure Tanning Spa

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

If I Had a Hammer...

...I'd beat the dickhead in the Hummer who cut me off today over the head with it.

You just HAD to get in front of me, right? Seriously, man, I LOVE having to spin out and slam on my brakes. I think I had a small heart attack. Thanks for that, you fucker.

Hey, while you're at it, why don't you drive by the middle school and plow through some kids in the crosswalk? Or better yet, there's an old folk's home not too far from here. Wouldn't it be fun to knock over a few senior citizens? Are you up for a little target practice?

Here's to hoping you get run over by a semi, you prick. Have a nice day.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Checking Things Off My List - #1

As many of you are already aware, I will soon be sprinkling a bit of my fairy dust and transporting myself to Never Land. Well, not necessarily Never Land, per se, but somewhere far, far away, and completely new and unfamiliar to me. The target date has been officially set, and while the move is still 6 months out, I have to get the proverbial ball rolling on some rather important tasks.

Last night, I crossed off the most difficult and nerve-wracking item on my list...telling my parents that I will be moving half a world away from them. To tell you the truth, I was terrified. If you've read this blog for any period of time, you know how tightly-knit my family is. Their love and support means everything to me, and I was scared to death that they simply wouldn't understand. I was shaking, nearly uncontrollably, as we sat down at the table.

What happened next is almost surreal. I'm still not quite sure how to explain it, but I'll do my best. I think I started off by saying something like, "Well, since we're all together, I have something I'd like to discuss with you." And that's all it took...

Somewhere, somehow, I found the strength, and the words began to easily flow from my lips. I told them of how we met, and of how much we love one another, and most importantly, that I am planning the move to be with him. They sat quietly, listening to each word, and when I was finished, they smiled. Mom even cried a little.

After a few moments had passed, I asked them their thoughts. My mother, obviously the more emotional of the two, spoke first:

"If you love him, and you're happy, then that's all that matters. Of course we'll miss you, but you're never more than a phone call, an e-mail or a flight away."

My pops, always the rational one, and not prone to making sentimental statements, spoke next:

"It sounds to me like you're really in love with him. All I've ever wanted for you was to be happy, and to feel loved. If this is what you want, then I'm both happy and excited for you. I think you should go for it."

Sometimes people can really surprise you, you know?
THEY actually made it easy for ME. I mean, there I was, as nervous as I was the day I had to tell them I'd crashed the car, and there they were, letting me off the hook. While I've lived on my own for a very long time, yesterday was the first time I realized that they no longer look at me as their little girl, but as a grown woman.

So, that's it. One task crossed off the list, about one hundred more to go. But it seems to me that none will be harder than the one I've just accomplished. After this, I can get through just about anything. Packing? No problem. Work? Piece of cake.

Visa...oh, shit.

Monday, April 17, 2006

On Nastiness

This is mine. Let there be no mistake about it. I write what I do because I enjoy it, and because I love the human interaction (even if it's only in cyber-space) that comes with this type of forum. I have thoroughly enjoyed making the acquaintances of several of you, and look forward to what you have to say each and every day. Hell, I've even made some wonderful friends.

I've been blessed, for the most part, with intelligent, witty and caring readers. Your comments and thoughts will always be welcome here, even if they don't always agree with mine. I sometimes think I've learned more from the people who disagree with me than those that do. To me, it means I'm seeing a whole new way of looking at things, and that can never, ever be bad.

What I will not put up with, however, are people coming to my comments section with the sole purpose of being nasty. If you don't like what I write, please, leave a thoughtful comment or email, and tell me so. Or, simply click on that little X that's in the top right hand corner of your screen. There is no place in my comments for those who wish to spew their vitriol, so please don't waste your time and energy. It will be deleted immediately.

Take your venom isn't welcome here.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

A New Look

I've been tinkering with the template of my blog for a week or so now, and I think I've gotten it to a place where I finally like it. Well, not me per se. I think I've discussed my lack of knowledge of all things HTML in the past, so after nearly pulling my hair out last night, the BF stepped in and did what he does best...making me happy. Thank you, babe. I love it.

As for the picture, well, a while ago, I was turned on to the artist Regis Loisel and his series of Tinker Bell drawings. The image at the top is, by far, one of my favorites. I love the idea of a fairy who is a bit clumsy, but also naughty and sexy. I saw them, and they immediately reminded me of how I got my nickname.

Have a happy holiday weekend everyone!


Friday, April 14, 2006

5:30A.M. Wake-Up Call

Every morning for the past week, the BF has woken up pitching a tent (or so he tells me). Now, I know this is a pretty common occurrence in men, and I like the fact that he attributes it to his thoughts and dreams of me...or at the very least, the multitude of naughty pictures I've sent his way. He has also expressed his love of being woken up with a morning hummer as of late. Well, you all know my opinion on THAT ACTIVITY already, so suffice it to say, he and I get along JUST fine.

But now, as the date of our living together looms ever-closer over our heads, I'm getting a bit worried. It's not because I'm afraid I won't satisfy him sexually (because I know THAT won't be a problem) or because I don't like the taste of Mango juice (hehehe). It's something that goes much deeper than that...I have never been, nor will I ever be a morning person.

You see, my guy gets up at the ass-crack of dawn. 5:30A.M. to be exact. I can barely speak at that ungodly hour let alone use my mouth for, well, more adventurous activities. It usually takes me a good half hour to become even partially conscious, and another hour or so before I should even be allowed to operate heavy machinery. I certainly don't think I should be touching anything as fragile as a penis that early in the morning. I'm likely to break it in half!

So, what do I do? I'd need to wake up at 4:00A.M. just to be alive enough to take care of him without mortally wounding him. I love him dearly, but 4:00A.M.? You've got to be kidding me. How am I ever going to keep him satisfied? I'm freaking out here, people! Quick! I need your advice. Can you help me, please?

Thursday, April 13, 2006

A Computer Geek HNT

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Pick Your Poison

Author's Note: I had a long conversation with a friend today who may read know who you are. I want you to know that this post was conceived and written well before our chat, and has nothing to do with the current situation you find yourself in. While you may relate to some of the things you'll read, I hope that you will understand that this is, in no way, shape or form a commentary on your life, or how I think you should live it. You're cool, little brother. I know you'll make the right choices for everyone involved.

I've written a few times in the past about my friend L, and her tumultuous relationship with her husband, A. You can check them out here and here if you haven't already read them. For those of you who don't feel like reading the back-story, here's the Cliff's Notes version: She's in a marriage, devoid of love and happiness, and there's a child stuck smack-dab in the middle.

The simple solution would be to leave, right? I mean really, who wants to sleep next to someone each night that they don't love, and that doesn't love them either? But she won't leave. Her reasoning? "I'm doing it for my daughter. I want her to know that she has two parents that will do anything for her happiness." Honorable intentions? Of course. Based in reality? Not a snowball's chance in hell.

Kids are smart. REALLY SMART. They always know - even sense - much more than we give them credit for. When we're happy, and they know it, they thrive. When we're sad, they feel it more than we do ourselves. Even if our sadness has absolutely nothing to do with them, they think it does, and they take it as a sign that they've done something wrong. Why? Because children, at least all the ones I've ever known, are in constant need of validation. Their young minds just don't have the capacity to understand the complex relationships we often find ourselves in as adults.

History, and multiple studies have shown that children who are the product of an unhappy relationship are much better off in two separate, happy homes than in one miserable one. So, knowing this, why do so many people stay in unhealthy relationships, and use their children as their excuse for not leaving? Fear. That's the only reason I can come up with.

Fear of moving on. Fear of the unknown. Fear that any relationship they'll ever have is doomed to fail. Fear of failure itself. Fear of finding REAL happiness, and putting in the work to maintain it. Maybe I'm crazy for saying this. Who knows? I could be completely wrong. But this is my opinion, and I'm allowed to express it, especially when it affects the people I love. Fear is NEVER a reason to stay. It should be the reason you leave. A person SHOULD be afraid of spending the rest of their life without love in it. Being loved by your children is one thing...the most important thing. But they can't hold you when you sleep at night.

Now please don't get me wrong, I'm not casting aspersions here. I've never walked a mile in their shoes, and I can't imagine what it would be like for a parent not see their childrens' beautiful faces every day. Arrangements need to be made, promises must be kept. I don't think for one second that it would be easy on anyone involved at first. But I do know this much..."Mommy, why are you crying?" or "Daddy, please don't be so sad." are words that should never be uttered from a child's lips.

So what's your poison, then? Happiness, or a life of "would have, could have, should have?"

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

A Match Made in Cyber-Heaven

I was chatting on-line with the BF today (yeah, 'cuz he's still 9000 miles away - butthead), and I couldn't help but notice just how great we are with one another. It's comfortable, you know? Sometimes it's silly and schmoopy, and sometimes it's erotic and intense. But it always feels right. It's our thing, and we're good at it. What's more, we're EXACTLY the same way with each other in person. Hallelujah!

So, seeing as how I'm at a complete creative loss tonight, I thought you all may enjoy (or maybe not, but who cares?) excerpts from a few of our more recent exchanges. I suggest grabbing waste basket and setting it somewhere close. A few of you may want to vomit...the cheese factor is quite high in some of these.

While discussing the purchase of a wireless router for my laptop, & while I was changing the color of my blog:

I'm so computer illiterate. You should have seen me in Best Buy. It took the guy 20 minutes to talk me in to the wireless router instead of just getting a longer cable.
BF: I love you. And you can rely on me for computer skills any time you want.
ME: You would have laughed your ass off if you could have seen how tortured I was over the decision. I thought the sales guy was going to pee his pants.
BF: When does your laptop arrive?
ME: By the 12th.
BF: You can be comfortable in bed when I sex up the chat with you.
ME: Ooooh! Pretty green!!!!
ME: Sorry...totally distracted by all the colors. What was that you were saying? Something about sex?

While discussing breakfast:

Did you have breakfast?
BF: Yes, ma'am. Cereal and mango juice.
ME: Good. I'm not a big fan of mango juice, thought I like mangoes. Weird.
BF: I hear it makes a guy taste sweeter.
ME: That's pineapple juice!
BF: I read that it was both.
ME: Never heard of mango juice doing that...we'll just have to test it. For scientific purposes only, of course.
BF: I volunteer to help for science.
ME: See? That's why I love you. Always putting other people's needs ahead of your own. Thinking about the greater good.
BF: I know, it's a sacrifice sometimes, but in this instance, I think I just have to take one for the team.
ME: Well, then, it's settled. I I guess I'm just going to have to give you a hummer...or ten thousand.
BF: A hummer, or ten thousand...are we talking money or number of blowjobs?
ME: BJ, butthead. Silly boy.

While discussing my period, and a possible bikini purchase:

Have I told you how big my boobs are right now?
BF: NO. Are you teasing me?
ME: They're HUGE. Every time I get my period lately, they just swell up.
BF: Do you need two sets of bras?
ME: No, but I'm falling out of the one I'm wearing at the moment. You should see the cleavage I've got right now! I could fill out that bikini pretty damn well!
BF: That is a nice bikini...I had better tell you...I will NOT be held responsible for my wandering hands when I am within arms distance of you.
ME: Should I buy it, then?

While discussing his return to Chicago:

BF: I'll just type this message for you to return to...You are the most amazing, most gorgeous and by far the best thing to ever happen to me...I love you, honey, like I have never loved another, and I really can't wait for us to be together.
ME: What a nice message to come back to! I love you too, and I can't wait for you to get your ass here!
BF: Me ass is eager to be there.
Well, it's a nice ass. I'm glad he's coming.
He likes you, and he'll be tighter by the time I get back to you.
Does HE have a name?
BF: mean my ass, or my front?
Either. Both. Whatever!
I have never named my penis.
That's odd. I thought men did that sort of thing all the time.
Not me...why do you want to name it?
Certainly not.
BF: Have you named your twins?
ME: Yeah, I call them "The Twins."
ME: Actually, they're more like fraternal twins. The right one is just a bit bigger than the left. Have you noticed?
BF: I didn't, but I will be sure to make a detailed study next time they are in front of me.
ME: For scientific purposes again?
BF: Well I think it's only fair as part of my scientific responsibilities.
ME: Responsibilities to whom?
To me.
Greedy bastard.

Have you all noticed a pattern here? Yeah, me too. There's a whole lotta sex-talking going on. This is what happens when the person you love is half-way around the world from you. But you know what? This has been, and continues to be, the most amazing experience. It's like an old fashioned courtship in a way...well, except for all that talk of boobs and blowjobs.

We talk. Truly talk, because our words are all we have of one another at the moment. By the time we can be together for good, we'll know more about each other than couples that have been dating for years...and I really wouldn't have it any other way.

But just so you don't think we ALWAYS talk about sex...while discussing my dietary habits:

I just ate about 10 Fudge Stripe cookies. I think I'm going to hurl.
BF: Why did you eat 10?
ME: Because they taste good. Duh.
BF: But they make you hurl. Duh.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Twilight Zone? Nope. Just Cubs Opening Weekend


Yeah, I said it. Douchebags. After three baseball seasons working at my bar, you would think I'd be used to them by now. Prepared, even. The single WORST day to tend bar in Chicago is decidedly NOT St. Patty's Day, nor is it New Year's Eve, as one would normally assume. Nope. Not even close.

This weekend was the Cubs home opener, the time of year when every jackass and his friends crawl out from whatever rocks they've been hibernating under to torture, torment and basically piss me off. "Tsk, tsk, Trixie. What are you complaining about? You raked in the dough, right?" Well, my friends, ask yourself 400 bucks and a 13 hour shift worth:

1. Cleaning up puke in the ladies' room...twice?

2. Cleaning up the vomit of a drunk yuppie the top of the bar (and, no, I didn't serve her)?

3. Being called a bitch after I took some twat's drink back...because she ordered it, yet had no money to pay for it?

4. Plunging the ladies' room toilet, because of course, the sign that says, "Dispose of sanitary napkins in the proper receptacles" only applies to OTHER women?

5. Hearing Bon Jovi's "Wanted Dead or Alive" a total of 12 times, played on the jukebox, because apparently, it's imperative that every college kid HAS to sing it at the top of their voice at least ONCE an hour?

It's not worth it to me...but you be the judge. $400 in cold, hard cash is great, but we're dealing with quantity here, people. NOT quality. I have to work ten times as hard to make that kind of cash, when on an average, non-Cubs game night, I'll walk with about $300. Are you starting to see my point?

As if all this wasn't bad enough, the Cubs played the St. Louis Cardinals. Ah! The "Show Me State" fans. Let me explain, for all of you that are unaware of what these people are like. Show me a die-hard Card's fan, and I'll show you an asshole. And NO. We don't have Coors Light. I'm sure most people from Missouri would tend to agree with me. No? Who cares. You're from Missouri. Enough said.

Now, if you've read my blog for the past few months, then you're aware that in general, I pretty much love my bar and the customers I serve. If you haven't, then I suggest you read this before you continue. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. We're the LEAST Wrigley-ish bar in a six square-block radius, and that's what makes it so great.

When you're dealing with the Cubs post-game crowd, however, well, my friends, that's a whole different ballgame (no pun intended). They're rude, obnoxious and pretty much, with rare exception, the hair on the pimple on the ass of society. They're pond scum. They display all the behaviors of the type of customer every bartender LOVES to hate. "What are those behaviors, Trixie?" Funny you should ask. I was just about to tell you...and how to avoid becoming one of them. Consider this another one of my Public Service Announcements.

Trix's Guide to NOT Behaving Like a Drunken, Shithead Cub's Fan

1. Do NOT, under any circumstances, come up to the bar and flag me down, "OOH, OOH-ing" like Arnold Horshack without your drink order ready. Nothing draws my contempt for you more than being interrupted while filling a ten-drink order than to be stopped in the middle of it for "Uh, give me a second. I don't know what I want yet."

2. Have your fucking money out. Do you NOT see the people lined up ten-deep behind you? Do you not see the sweat on my brow? I'm busy here, you idiot. Get your shit together.

3. Unless you're from the UK, or Australia, DO NOT call me "Love." It's insincere, and basically just annoys the shit out of me. Exception: If you're really, really hot, then it's quite alright. But you know if you're hot or not, so I expect you to act accordingly. Yes, I can be THAT shallow. Sue me.

4. DO NOT order a Cosmopolitan or a frozen Margarita when I've got fifty people waiting for drinks. Have a beer and a shot, and shut the fuck up. You'll like it, because I said so.

5. No matter WHAT anyone tells you, you are NOT sexy after 14 hours of drinking. If you can't put one foot in front of the other, how in the hell do you think you're going to get laid?

6. If you can't say the name of the beverage you want, chances are you're too drunk to need it.

7. Don't EVER ask this question: "What's the cheapest beer you have?" For a bartender, that translates to: "Cheap bastard/No tip/spent all his cash at the game." We ignore dipshits like you.

8. Keg stands are a frat house in Des Moines. NOT in the middle of a bar.

9. This one is for the girls...Ladies, I don't care how great you think you look. It's freezing outside. Tank tops and stiletto heels are NOT appropriate attire for a ballgame - or my bar. Put some clothes on, you dirty whore. Who are you dressing up for anyways? The jackass in the "I love MILF's" shirt? Have some self-respect.

10. Ordering Jagerbombs or vodka/Red Bull does NOT make you hip or cool. Anyone who willingly pays that much for a drink is just an asshole, plain and simple.

I think I've covered all the bases (again, no pun intended), but I'm certain I'll have more as the season progresses. There's no end to the amount of assholes I'll be dealing with through October. Oh, wait. I'm talking about the Cubs. Change that to August. I'm certain their season will be over by then. Maybe there is a patron saint of weary bartenders after all.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

The Things I Miss

If you haven't already heard the news, this Trixie has snagged herself a man. Yep, that's right. No more single-girl days for this Fairy. He's wonderful, in every sense of the word. There's just one thing wrong with him - he lives 9000 miles away from me at the moment. While the plan is to move to be with him, both of us have prior commitments that won't allow that to happen until the fall. Until then, all we have are expensive airplane tickets, e-mail and telephones to keep us connected.

We've just spent a very happy week together, and he'll be back again soon, this time for over a month. The times in between, however, are difficult for us. While I look forward to the future we'll share together, I can't help but miss so much about him in the times we're apart. It's the little things, you know? Those things that make him "him," and us "us." Those things that you don't even realize you've noticed until they're no longer there.

The morning he left, he tucked his favorite t-shirt under the blanket on my bed, leaving it for me to find later that evening. Entrusting it to me must have been difficult for him. It's the only thing he has left that reminds him of a wonderful time in his life. But he knew how much it would mean to me to leave a piece of him behind, so he parted with it.

That night, I curled up in bed wearing his shirt. Then I moved to the couch, because I couldn't sleep without him next to me. I could smell him on me now, a combination of his soap and cologne, and I realized then how much I loved his scent. I knew right away I'd miss it, and I began to mentally form a list of all the things about him that I'd also miss over the next several weeks.

Going to sleep wrapped up in his arms, and waking up in the exact same spot.

Laying my head on his chest after we make love, talking about our future.

The smiles, hugs and kisses when I walk in the door.

Catching him taking a peek down the front of my shirt when he thinks I'm not looking...and the devilish grin on his face when he knows he's been busted.

The taste of his kisses.

Showers together in the morning.

The funny way he holds his knife when he cuts his food.

The way he reaches for my hand, even when we're having separate conversations with other people.

The way he looks at me. The way he sees right in to me.

His voice, and his funny accent.

His laugh.

His smile, and knowing it's just for me.

But most of all...

I miss the sense of calm and peace I feel just being next to him.

I'm going to sleep now, wearing his shirt, and when I wake up, I'll be one day closer to being with him again. Sweet dreams, everyone. I hope they're as wonderful as mine.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Roman Holiday

It's been a very busy day, so I've had no time to write. I hope these pictures will help you to forgive my lack of a post. Besides, I've been yapping too much lately anyways. Enjoy!

The cupola and oculus from inside the Pantheon

Nona at the Trevi Fountain

Nona at the Forum

The Colosseum

Vittorio Emmanuel Monument

Teatro Marcello

Private residence near the Garibaldi Monument

St. Paul Basilica, outside the wall

The Chains of St. Peter

The Hall of Maps, Vatican Museum

The Vatican in the distance

The Tiber River

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Bocca della Verita

The Mouth of Truth

I think you all can tell by now that I've come back from Italy just a little bit changed. But how can YOU really know this? You barely know me. I've intentionally kept parts of myself hidden, partly to protect myself, but mostly to protect those I love.

But my holiday opened my eyes a bit. The truth is, there are things in my life, important things, that need to be discussed...for me, of course, but again, mostly for others. My life is in the process of changing, REALLY changing, and this blog needs to change along with it.

So, I suppose it's time for some truths, huh? Time to tell you what's been going on in my world. Now, before you start worrying, I'm still the same old Trixie, just, well, happier.

Truth # 1: I am officially off the market. Yes, THAT market. I'm in love.

Truth # 2: I've met the man I'm going to marry. And before you ask, yes, he's aware of that fact.

Truth # 3: By the end of the year, I will be moving 9000 miles away from everything I know to be with him.

Truth # 4: I'm scared to death, but the happiness I feel outweighs every fear I have.

Truth # 5: I've caught myself the sweetest, kindest, most loving, generous and sexy man I've ever met.

Truth # 6: Yep, I'm pretty damn lucky.

Well, boys and girls, there you have it. This is my I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd be lucky enough to lead. And to tell you the truth, I can't wait to see how it's all going to turn out. I may even write about it...

Monday, April 03, 2006

Ma Famiglia

Of all the wonderful experiences I had during my trip, the most amazing was meeting my extended family. The hospitality and affection showered upon my Nona and me is something we'll remember for the rest of our lives. I don't know how to explain it, other than to say that I felt like I was home.

Food, above all else, was the focal point of the days we spent there. Everything centers around the kitchen. The men sit and talk while the women prepare enormous feasts for their family (ok, so it's not SO different from anywhere else in the world), and anyone else who may simply be passing by on the street. Gossip and town news were usually the topics at hand.

Once we sat down at the table (on average, about fifteen of us), fresh pasta, hand-cut or rolled that very day started each meal. Then they presented two or three different kinds of meats, a seafood dish, salad with olive oil from their own olive trees, and vegetables so fresh that you knew they were picked that day made up the next several courses. And the bread. I cannot say enough about it. Freshly baked and warm, you could actually taste the love and care that was put in to it. Local cheeses, cured meats and sausages were on the table throughout the meal, and I realized from time to time that I was absently picking and eating from each and every plate.

After the main courses were finished and the table was cleared, they would bring out cakes and pastries, whole fruit, and nuts picked from the trees on their property. Coffee and aperitifs were served, and we all sat there, full, laughing and sharing stories.

It was then that I realized that food, for them, is so much more than something they put in their bodies to survive. More than something that tastes good, that satisfies. It is their lifeline to their family. Sitting at the table for hours is their way of connecting, of staying close to one another, and it's something that most of us take for granted in our own lives. It's their most important way of showing their love for one another.

So, meet my family...the people that made me realize how I want to live out the rest of my life, and how I want to love and be loved.

Antoinetta (Nona's cousin) & My Nona. They never knew they were related before this day. Look how much alike they look! It's freaky!

Incoronato, Nona's cousin, and the best damn chef in the world!

Giuseppe (Joe), Incoronato's husband. He's the sweetest old guy I've ever meet.

My cousins, Torigio & Pina

Antonio & Luigi, my little pervert cousins! Don't let the sweet faces fool you. They'll pinch your ass!

Incoronato, and her granddaughter, Angela.

Where the love is...

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Number 100...And a New Beginning

It's funny. My 100th post coincides with a new chapter in my life. Mark a milestone WITH a milestone. Seems appropriate, doesn't it? I never thought I'd make it...on both accounts. But here I am, looking forward to the future in a way I never have before.

When I was in Italy, I was surrounded by the past. MY family's past. The history of love and life, made by those whose blood now runs through my veins. That love was everywhere, and it consumed me. I realized then, that love CAN cross oceans and continents, and pass through obstacles and troubles alike.

How do I know this with such certainty? Because I'm alive. Love DOES move mountains and steer ships through stormy seas. I'm living proof. We all are.

In the late 1800's, my great-grandfather moved from his home in Orsara, Italy to the United States. Once he was settled, he sent for my great-grandmother. They had grown up just one street away from one another. She came by ship, through Ellis Island, to be with the man she loved. In their life together, they had seventeen children. One of which, of course, was my Grandmother.

She's 76 years old now, and has never been "home." So this year, I took her to see the birthplace of her family. I wanted her to know where she came from. I can't express with words what I saw in her eyes when she finally set foot on Orsarean soil. But I can show you pictures of what we saw together. So here, now, is a little piece of where my family began, and where I learned how to see where I'm going.

Orsara di Puglia, Italy

My Great Grandfather's Street

Great Grandpa's Home

My Great Grandmother's Street

Great Grandma's Street

A Room with a View

The Family Church