My husband is one lucky son of a bitch!

My mother in law is in no way a bitch.  She is actually quite delightful and I'm rather fond of her.  I just like to be as inappropriate as possible at any given time.  (I don't really need to go further to illustrate, do I?)

Well. As I was saying... He is super fly, you must know, to land a catch such as I.  He is also quite delicious.  Sex on a stick, really.
   
(Wholly Shit!!  We could feature the above lines on one of our random rap sessions.  We do that.  Really.  We do.  Imma write those down... wait...!)

[(and yes, I like wholly vs. holy because if its a holy one, isn't is just loose stool as opposed to wholly heaven angel crap raining down on you? (assuming your conception of the whole includes heaven crap))  That's one sound argument.  Not holy at all....  shit.]

I decided one day that Italians were simply where it was at (after reading some book- maybe Eat Pray Love?  Probably.  (read it!)) and went out and found myself one.   Ok, that may not be <i>exactly</i> how it happened, but it's probably... maybe... close. <br />

Back to how sexy he is... Very.  He is so delicious with his man hands and boots and jeans and sexy sexiness....  ...breathe....  breathe....  wow....

Oh Dolly!  You know my heart.  (even if yours are covered by gigantic, huge, hemotorkin boobs!)  Oh, except for the parts that aren't about looking sexy in boots and jeans.  Those are the only parts of this song that actually apply.  Mostly the gunny sack bit.

Back to the lucky bastard.... not only was he my ticket to italian-dom, but he also happens to be quite fabulous and we make a fairly decent pair (being modest here.  We're totally badass.)

Honestly, I really like the guy.  :)

Again, I am so happy that I get to convert to Italian-ism, but I also get to be Italian (same thing?) and I get to be married to him!

(Did I mention that I like parentheses... and 'dot dot dots'?  (No?  Well, I do.))

Damn!  I keep getting distracted by his good looking-ness and my Italian-ness.  In conclusion:  he is lucky to be so damn sexy and also to get someone such as I because I am Italian and amazing and awesome.  (ref. other blogs I posted.)

So!  As the title hints, I am now Italian now.   I've always, (ALWAYS) wanted to be Italian and now, I am, so it's a dream come true.  (que the Cinderella music...taa dadeda..)

I've heard you cannot become Italian, but to those who hold that belief I say,"HA!"  'Cause if you look at me you will clearly see, you suckas are wrong!  WRONG!!!

I am so eye-talian!

I made Lemoncello last fall.

I'm growing basil.

I made tomato basil sauce a few times now.

I am eating tomato based sauces more than cream (this makes me a bit sad, but hopefully some of my clothes will fit again.)

I eat tons of bread.  TONS.

My hair is dark.  I died my hair dark, but it is dark.

My last name is (now) Fortino! BOOM!

I am completely glamorous and oh so sensual.  (sure I am!)

Yep.  I'm Italian and I love it!!!

So, in the past less-than-two-months, my life has undergone a few changes.  Some of them wonderful, amazing, eternalizing (that's is so a word!), another gut wrenching, heart-breaking, soul crushing, and still others (other) exciting, challenging and full of pride.

The wonderful, amazing, eternalizing part was when I married my husband.  (Well, it's been almost 2 months, so technically I did!)  He is amazing.  He is fun.  He is perfect- for me.  We are a mess.  We are absolutely fabulous together.  Our wedding was the funnest (another real word) wedding I've ever been too.  That may not be saying a lot since I haven't been to a shit ton of weddings and I don't generally like them and this was my own, but... it was FUN!  It was a tit bit stressful... just a tit bit.

My father has recently been diagnosed with clear cell renal cell carcinoma- advanced kidney cancer.  My dad is not only awesome, an awesome dad AND one of my most favorite relatives, but one of my most favourite (think favor-right) people.  Ever.  Gut wrenching.  Heart-breaking.  Soul crushing.  But hope remains.

My big baby, our five year old, started kindergarten.  She is so big.  She is OLD!!!  FIVE whole years old!!!!!!!  Well, that is how she looks at it.  Except when she is super pissed that she isn't six yet... or a grown up.  She really wants to be a grown up.  I am challenged by that.  I want her to enjoy being young.  Enjoy the joys of five.  She makes my heart swell with pride.  and joy.  She is good shit.

So, that's what's up.  Ha.  I went there.


But, the thing is, life is about changing.  nothing ever stays the same, or so says Patty Loveless

I would say that this "is just a stressful time," but I think that this is just life.  It's for the living and living is about experience.  Nobody said that "experience" was exclusive to travels and hindsight.  Experience is about... expereince-ing.  Love.  Pain.  Hurt.  Loss.  Fear.  Triumph.  Tragedy.   Pride.  Joy.  Thankfulness. Hope.

My new manta (and even having a "mantra" is new... as in this very moment new) is:<br />

Hope springs eternal.  

Because it does.