that's what little girls are made of...

is it really necessary to wear underwear? I need to speak to the man who thought that repackaging and "new styling" was a good idea. probably the same guy who decided to re-vamp feminine hygiene products. go ahead and make the cracker packages all "new and healthier", but leave my girl stuff alone!

this is probably my way of denying the fact that my ass has changed. or maybe my panties shrunk? all I know is that finding new underwear yesterday was like trying to get rid of wrinkles. it ain't happening!

my all time fave and trusty brand "jockey" has re-vamped their underwear and it resembles the vintage t-shirts that are out there. I don't want my panties to look like they are old and used! "calvin" has gone the lacy and slippery route which just makes no sense. lacy = itchy and slippery? well, I won't go there.

then I thought I would give the "hanes" panties a go. they were the cheapest, but actually looked there would be enough fabric there to cover my tush so that when I bend over the spackle police aren't jumping out to get me. oh it was sheer joy!

and then we come to this morning where I am running around getting stuff ready for my trip. looks the suitcase may actually make it up the stairs for packing and then wham! it starts...

the dog decides to pee right outside the bathroom door. just like all the other boys in the house missed the toilet, again...

then I decide to make myself a latte and while my milk is steaming away I start dreaming away and out of the corner of my eye I see it happen...

overflowing milk out of the container, down the countertop, on the floor right in between the stove and counter. super!

stop the dreaming. pull out the stove and as I am on my hands and knees swatting away the dog who is trying to lick up the milk it hits me - the old panties I am wearing are totally covering my ass! and I just smile...

cause no matter how the day begins, ends or all the in between the fact of the matter is that I am leaving in two days!! two days and twenty seven years later I will be face to face with my auntie. the one I lived with while I was there. the one who taught me how to be a grown up and take care of myself. the one who patiently watched me trip up and smarten up and loved me all the same.

and the spilled milk and peeing dog and overflowing milk will be history. what will be is love, joy, laughter and new memories in a far away land and as long as I don't bend over I will be fine.

what I learned this week...

taking apart the 2009 unused papaya day timer

that sometimes life will bite ya in the ass - ouch, be careful what ya say

scraps and bits waiting for love

you might know that you have it good, but then wham it hits ya - you seriously have it good!

gentle reminders all around you

and finally that the love and support was always there - all ya had to do was reach for it!

sometimes I forget that I am okay as is

so excited for my trip! 9 more sleeps and I will be on my way home - italia here I come!

oh it was all so exciting until I started packing. then I started getting cranky. was it the clothes? was it the thought of people seeing me after 27 years and thinking "gosh, she looks SO old"? is it a fear of looking worse then when I left 27 years ago?

I ended up in a puddle of tears. oh yay, pity party for one please! WHAT THE HELL????

when I lived in italy I loved myself. I was comfortable in my skin. I had people in my circle who loved me as was. there was no "do I look fat in this?" or "I look frumpy" or my hair looks like crap!" or "these shoes will never do!". there were no doubts. and so now that I am, ahem, more mature, why oh why am I having these awful thoughts?

the more I think about it the more I realize how silly it is. I am excited to see my family and friends. I am over the moon at the thought of hugging my aunt after all these years. sharing a laugh with my friends who called me "sis". seeing my old boyfriend and tasting his wonderful wine. driving down the same road that I would take to see my grandma. having my son see where it all began so many years ago. the markets, the cobblestone streets, the pizza to die for, gelato flavors galore, good food, great wine, amazing memories, new and old.

I am excited about all of this and then I cringe at the thought of how quickly it will pass and I want to treasure every single second. I so look forward to sitting and listening, watching and wondering. what have they done since I left? how have they lived? and those that have passed? I want to go see them too.

I want to leave without guilt. without fear of something awful happening while I am away. drop the worries on the doorstep as I leave. leave the pity party that really sucked ass! grab my bag and fly away...

if it's not one thing, it's your mother...

BUT today it was actually dad's turn. appointment with a hematologist. big words. lots of quick note taking. asking questions. more tests ordered. blah, blah, blah! let's go book those appointments shall we? WHOA!

at which point I stop everyone dead in their tracks and say "is there something in particular that you are looking for?" more big words. don't worry they say. this has been building for some time. wha-T? holy hell I hate hospitals. hate doctors. hate tests and especially hate the new parking garage.

so I drop dad off at home. he doesn't want to do lunch. I consider that he is probably not hungry whereas I on the other hand want to inhale a bear. because inhaling a bear or any food of that size would instantly make me feel better, no?

but I don't. I instead go into the studio at which point I begin creating a mess:

except that at some point I found that the little pieces weren't doing it for me and so I moved to a big piece. the biggest I have ever worked on:

I lose myself in the rip, tear, and glue up to my elbows. one hour turns into two and I take a step back to admire my work at which point I notice this little guy:

looking up at me as if to say "hey mama, you okay?"

I am okay. if for even a little bit I lost myself in my art. I stopped thinking, stopped worrying and started to feel better.

in all honesty there is nothing to worry about at this point. we know nothing. there is "some" thing, but we don't know what it is. we could lose sleep over it, cry our eyes out over it, worry till our head hurts. all things that I would normally have done.

but for today I took a different approach and turned to my art.