(cronaca di) Un disastro spiegato.

Posted by sol in italian, life
  • 3,8 kili peso medio del bebe
  • 3,5 kili accumulo di grasso, proteine e nutrienti extra
  • 2 kili: sangue in piu’
  • 2 kili: altri fluidi corporei in piu’
  • 1 kilo: tette in piu’
  • 1 kilo: utero ingrandito
  • 1 kilo: liquido amniotico
  • 750 grammi: placenta

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I am not ungrateful.

Posted by sol in life, list

Thanks for the forceps. Thanks for hepatitis when I was 6. Thanks for my ballet classes. To whoever taught me to read when I was 3. For Flag day and going to school by foot when the school was closed. For the barbies I gave away in anger. For our bunnies. For playing doctor. For our plum tree. For the hot-air balloons hanging on the wall. For blowing air into the bottle of Fanta and making it erupt. For the oysters. For my child-father. For the blissful ignorance. For all the candy. For the guilt. For the songs. For biting wool and getting shivers. For never being treated like a child. For the christian gatherings with the Philips where a boy named John kissed me on the cheek for the first time. For him being a pervert, sort of. For my boxer puppies. For my mud cakes. For our red-bean tree. For the sadness. For the awareness. For my loneliness. For a cold room. For the igloo school. For the clandestine underage erotic readings. To Silvia del Rio for being such a great wind-surfer at 50. To Morgan Szymanski for sticking package tape on my hair. For my suicide attempts when I was 9. For a cruise to Alaska. To all my child psychologists. For my wetting the bed until late, very late. For my easter hat and the smile it triggered. For all my lies as a child. For my horse barn school. To my brother. For my weirdness. Thanks to those who were nice without being pitying. For being segregated in a new school. For the chaos. For our car crash. For my palate. For my jeans. For a school next to my house. To Anakarina Pina for being such a dork and letting me meet my best friend in the whole world. To Caty de la Cerda for being my best friend in the whole world, and for my math tests. To Blanca for teaching me French and Italian. To miss Peggy for catching me stealing Lupe’s homework. For a sulfur bomb. For Mevacor. For the internet. For art history. To Orwell. To Garcia Marquez. To Herman Hesse. To Burgess. For my trips to Italy when I was a teenager. For all the growing up. For being a misfit. For my first time. For my last time. For all my cats. For my grandfather. To my grandfather. For my good luck. To Paolo Curradini. For my eighteenth birthday, and the eight birthdays after that one. To Massimiliano Zampieron for adopting me. For the end of perfection. To Andrea Stagni, for wanting me that bad. To Enrico Raso, for being so wise and so foolish, but first of all for being my friend. To Sergio Spaccavento, for the hard time. For a crisis. For the cookies. For Crime and Punishment. For all my mistakes. For Barney’s Version. For my degree in Finance. To Barbara Rindi, for believing in me without convincing me. For Rome. To Marco Tilesi, for his enthusiasm. To professor Gaburri, for listening. To Freud. For good pot. For my cooking skills. For the 35. For a curse. For being borderline. For being a crazy bitch. For laughter. For all the mothers I have had, to all of them. To my aunt Mary for being the first one. To Adriana for being a queen. To Rina for being true. To Simonetta for being firm. To Alessandra. For intelligent women altogether. For Fabrizio de Andre’. For Leonard Cohen. For Lyon, for Ars. For Hamburg. For our trips to Paris. For Berlin. For Acapulco. For idiotic immigrant law. For our beautiful weddings. To Michele, for being so close to perfect. For our being carefree. For our child. For the jews and the genoese. Thanks to all the people who love me, and to the ones who hate me, too.

gratefully, Sol

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almost year end

Posted by sol in prattle

Being pregnant is like boiling milk. If you look at it it takes much longer. And that is about what I’ve been doing lately, thinking really hard about the day when my little baby will decide to turn downwards and push his way out of me – and 9 months appear like a lifetime.

Thinking too much is like not thinking at all, so that’s why I’ve been off my blog and off my emails for so long. I owe a line to my mother and to April, at least. Tomorrow I will put my act together and let them hear from me. If you read this, please note that I do think about you all the time… it’s just that I don’t know where to begin.

November wore on quite unobtrusively, but fresh from the news of our baby being a baby boy. We have new material to day dream – our new house in the first place.

This is more or less how my new kitchen will be… in a year or so!!!!!!!!!! ***utter excitement***


We also had a chance to show off our acting skills, and we will be broadcasted in japanese national TV very soon!! (As soon as I receive the tape with the stunt I’ll be more precise and you’ll see what I’m talking about – I’m planning to youtube the whole thing!!)

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