Open Letter to fellow airline passengers

Dear people in the airport with children,

I’m concerned about your health, I truly am. You see, it’s impossible for a normal human being to remain unaffected by the atrocious behavior of your child.  Because when your child repeatedly rams that hard plastic pink travel case she is riding, into peoples shins, you just continue your inane phone conversation as you watch, nonplussed. (Who the hell invented a child’s carry-on/scooter combination anyway? I think the last thing you want is something to slow your journey through they airport even more. Let’s give the kid a bag she won’t even drag, she has to scoot it through the airport. My, how clever. )

And when the person your horrible child just rolled back and forth in front eighteen times, making him perform a kind of little dance and move his bag around to hold his place in line,  shoots eye daggers at you, you are supposed to respond. In case you forgot what actually happens in polite society, that is a nonverbal social cue. Yeah, it is. It means you need to act. When you do attempt eye contact, you unbelievably seem to be expecting a smile from the stranger your kid just tripped. And all the other 457 adults subjected to the little attention whore  wheeling as close as she can to people’s feet, then checking them for a reaction.

So ease up on that Bailey’s and Percoset breakfast combo. Or perhaps it’s time to cut back on that extremely high dose of Benzodiapines you must be taking. You’ve got some serious kid-ass to kick and you are gonna need all your faculties.


Shoot me down

Sometimes the enactments I get for why my request should not be obliged are in fact, worth the shoot down.

A couple of weeks ago, I asked the boyfriend the following question: If  my shoulder acts up at the races, could he take me to see  Dr. Costa? (You know, Costa, the guy who saved Mick Doohan’s leg…) I mean, who wouldn’t want to be treated by Dr. Costa if given the opportunity? And I kind of have the opportunity.  So I was half planning what kind of ultra strenuous workout I could do without breaking my collarbone for the fourth time but just far enough to, you know,  mistake some muscle pain for nerve pain.

So boyfriend responds to my request in his special English: “He is coming old. And maybe crazy, it’s better you don’t see him but other doctor. Costa, he walk around like…he think to be a Dio, you know?” He then stretched his arms up and away from his body, olympian style, puffing out his chest, sticking out his lower lip, and turning his face skyward to strike an arrogant deity pose, which he held then reposed several times. While wearing only tighty whities and bright blue flip flops.

And that constituted a “no” .

So worth it.

I’ve Been Busy

Oh hello, I didn’t see you there.  Evidently I have a blog I forgot about.

I’ve been busy, so let me recap quick like and then I can get back to posting photos of food and crap like I have been doing.

– I went to the Mugello GP with the boyfriend. Met my home girl Susanna there and two of her friends. Boyfriend stayed in a house with his team and I stayed in a hotel with Suz, where all of my former co-workers, including former  boss, were staying. Awkward?

– Been riding mountain bikes a lot in Italy. Boyfriend was a downhill racer, wants to return to the sport, and has hopes that I will want to race downhill too. However, it has become clear this is not a sport I am going to excel in. I tend to look forward to the parts of the ride that are on the pavement instead of the rocks, and I like uphill better than downhill. Oh yeah, all those beautiful mountain trails and river runs? SWARMING with mosquitoes. Maybe growing up in the desert gave me no resistance to mosquito spit or something, because I scratch bites until they bleed and scar. And of course, freak the fuck out when they cover my legs and are swarming in my face and ears.  My behavior is, as my boyfriend says in his special English, “like a children”.

– Gave up the supermoto racing plans. I mean, supermoto is fun and all but 1) I’m slow 2)  I prefer roadracing. I’d like to return to roadracing and will start on a 125 again if I do. I’ll of course keep you updated if that happens. But I HAVE been preparing for it. You know, as in breaking my collarbone.

– I lost 15 pounds. (This is related to preparing for racing but it merits it’s own bullet point.) I can now wear the same clothes I brought with me from California when I came here in 2008. The bike riding has helped, but stopping with the eating of the chocolate every single day for the last two years (I did not miss one day, call me consistent if nothing else) maybe helped a little as well.

– And finally, there is work. The project I am on is ending in two weeks or so and the deadlines are inflexible. Not only that, but daily I receive tasks from various departments that are marked as Urgent and have a COB deadline  (that means the end of the day for you non office types. Mom.) COB in California is 5pm. For me, that means 2am. So yes, I’ve had some late nights. Last night, in fact, I worked until 3am. Did I mention yesterday was Saturday? So yeah, I’ve been under a little pressure from work. And based on how many emails I sent and received yesterday  I am not the only one working on the weekends. Remember that Loverboy song that goes “Everybody’s working for the week-end”? Well that song doesn’t apply to me. Just sayin.

And now my friends, I have to get back to work. But before I go, let me just share with you that as I write this, there is an American style (?)  rodeo/horseshow literally in the field next door. Complete with American flags flying. Announcers blabber (in Italian)  and music plays over the loudspeakers for 12 hours straight – Shania Twian and Willie Nelson, and when they run out of country CDs they play Lady GaGa and Jay-Z. Oh and right now, they just played the American National Anthem to present awards to a group of 6 year olds. You can’t make this shit up.

Italian children horse show contestants wondering when the US National Anthem with finish and the DJ will get back to playing Jay-Z. Photo taken from the balcony of boyfriend's house.