I fly like paper, get high like planes...

My mom's favorite flower was a tulip.  When she first died, I didn't want to so much as look at one.  I like them now.  Maybe one day I'll love them.

It never stops being confusing- the death.  Her death.  You never think about death in this manner (or at least I didn't) until it happens in your life.  It's as surreal as surreal as surreal gets.  Most of the time, I hate it.  Some of the time... when I feel like her spirit is alive and protecting me, it feels like the biggest blessing imaginable.  I feel like she's my angel.  Love and white and pure.

The most confusing factor is where is she?  WHERE IS SHE?  I still can't entirely process that no matter what phone I use, or what number I might call or where I could drive in a car or fly in a plane or the volume with which I could scream, she will never ever, ever hear me.  There's nowhere she is.  She just isn't.  That, to me, is the most confusing part.  That she isn't.  She was, and now she's not.  She was a body that I could touch and hug and argue with and say sweet things to and a soul which felt and emanated happy and angry and now she's not walking around and now that soul... it's...?

Sometimes in my head, I yell.  I yell, yell, yell.  It's weakening to imagine her ears never being reached.  Sometimes I just want to touch her arms and be hugged by her.  She always smelled pretty.  She always felt squishy and good.  Mom... I miss you.  I like that I feel good when I think of you.

Encouragement

I have tattoos.  A bunch, by most standards.  I love them.  I love them deeply and dearly.  Each and every needle-stroke (okay, the one I got at 18 is corny, but those after, are the ones to which I'm referring) is part of an artistic plan that my tattoo artist and I, devised.  I adore how they look, how they make me look and how I feel with them covering me.

But I still feel insecure sometimes.  I feel insecure that people will think I'm harsh, unapproachable, aggressive.  I post pictures of Kat Von D, because she inspires me.

Kat (and if you watch L.A. Ink, you'll know what I mean) is so tender.  She's ravishing, she wears red lipstick almost every day, she dresses incredibly sexily, she's unbelievably talented and she's positively covered in tattoos.  When I feel like people might be afraid of me and I feel like I'm shrinking away from the things I love, in order to be smaller and more approachable, I think of Kat.  I think of Pixie.  I think of Hannah and Kim.  These women who are far more tattooed than I am, and who seemingly embrace their fire.  I aspire to be so ferociously present.  So ferociously me.

Pile-O-Fun

I got a job in floor sales, at the brand new Calvin Klein store, at The Forum Shops, in Caesars Palace.  I don't know why, but I'm fucking stoked.  It doesn't make a pile of sense.  It's not prestigious or all that glam.  It's just fucking F-U-N.  

I like having somewhere to go... to put on makeup for... something to be a part of.  A cog in a unit.  A part of a gang.  It excites me.  It give me a reason.  Not a reason for anything dramatic like... a reason to exist.  Just a reason.  Something to put on eyeliner for.  Somewhere to be productive.  To connect with people and run around in cute shoes.  

The store isn't open yet, so every day is slicing boxes, steaming clothes, hanging up dresses... knitting together a beginning.  Being part of something at inception.  

I'm pleased.  

No matter how it reads in general, in me, it reads like flowing water.

I'm Officially Hot for Keith Olbermann

According to Wiki:

Keith Olbermann (born January 27, 1959) is an American news anchor, commentator, and radio sportscaster. He currently hosts Countdown with Keith Olbermann on MSNBC, an hour-long nightly newscast of five selected stories with commentary by Olbermann and guests. Starting with the 2007 NFL season, Olbermann also serves as co-host of NBC's Football Night in America with Bob Costas.

I awaken and put on MSNBC.  Let it run all day long.  I'm not in the mood for it EVERY day, but most, I crave it.  Overall, it's a great osmosis-style way, to learn about what's going on with the planet.  I seldom, if ever, read news.  The only news I'm hungry for, is celebrity gossip.  And I devour it with the appetite of a lumber jack.

MSNBC is fantastic because it reports on everything happening with (mostly democratic) politics, but is heavily peppered with general ongoings (global disasters, crime, etc.).  Keith Olbermann has his own show about the day's most notable events, but delivers it with hilarity and ribbing, uncharacteristic to the channel.  He even did a large portion of one broadcast, as Mr. Burns.  An incredible impersonation, at that.

I think I want to make out with his smart, sexy-older-man face.

A bouquet we made in mom's honor.  Everyone from the Labbate family brought a flower from their garden, and added it to the flowers I got.

Mother's Day was pronounced. Oh my. More so than any other Mother's Day of my life, nach. I had my beautiful new family over and we had omelets and fruit. Cookies and chocolate. It was sweet to have their love in my home. First hosting I've done, of this nature, since I've lived here. I was so grateful to have the interaction. Everyone seemed to have a good time and love was transferred.


After they went home, the silly "holiday" pressed on my chest.  I kept trying to recognize that it's just a made up date, but it didn't work so well.  You know... I'm 100% sure this is how it's supposed to be and feel.  I know this time in my life is precisely the time I'm supposed to be without my mother.  I'm 100% sure she was ready to go and this all happened in conjunction by the divine beauty of The Universe's plan.  I don't want anything to be different.  I just wanted to say- yesterday was heavier than usual and I'm glad it came and went.

This is my new family.  They are unbelievably loving and full of light and hope.  I'm so blessed to have them in my world.  So blessed that I work for them all... that I work in their lives as well as they work in mine.  Thank you God and Universe, for filling me with all of the right and extracting all of the wrong.  I hope, every day, I've living up to my potential.

Love,

Italia

I Want You To Hit Me Blah Blah Blah Blah

My day started, today, at 3am.  I don't know... I went to sleep at a reasonable hour (midnight or so) but was restless after just a bit.  Usually I wait it out... toss in bed and sleep befalls me soon.  Today was different for some reason.  I'm compelled to stand... to move... to take action- physically.  It can be exhausting, but fighting it only furthers frustration.

Fight Club plays on HBO right now.  I go to HBO on Demand and watch it over and over and over.  I must have seen it six full times and three-four partial times, since it has been available.  When Ed Norton has desperate insomnia... it's so fucking realistic.  I know Chuck Palahniuk must have, at some point, been completely sleepless.  David Fincher, too.  Everyone involved, perhaps.  The depiction of the insomniac is bang on.  As bang as on gets.  Never fully asleep nor awake.

Still, it's okay.  I like the hours of twilight.  Things seem more possible and dream-like when the sun has not yet risen, but it's late enough for the majority of people to be sleeping.  It feels like you're in a untapped realm.  One in which few are conscious and somehow answers to secrets, lay.  Shhh... quietly listen... fortunes come...

THE BEST ROSS FIND, EVER

$4.99.  There were like, three.  I bought one.  WHO is going to buy the other two?  Man... I think we should all be friends.