Murphy's Law

People who know me well, always get me books (or music/movies) on special occasion. On my 13th Christmas, my auntie Laura got me my first ever Murphy's Law book - since then, I was hooked. For those of you who have never come across it (shame on ya!), "Murphy's Laws" are a random logical, and less logical, collection of considerations of the cliques on modern life. They include reflections such as "Anything that can go wrong, will—at the worst possible moment", “If there are two or more ways to do something, and one of those ways can result in a catastrophe, then someone will do it.” My mate Stefan, who I have recently discovered secretly reads this blog (hi there!), has re-adapted some of those sayings for me, for example: "if there is anything to be walked into, Ivonne will walk into it", "If anything tragic is going to happen, it will happen to Ivonne" . Thing is that: he is right (doh! I hate to say those words!!!). Ivonne could be a dictionary entry under synonyms for clumsiness, dizziness, frequent lack of common sense. Prime example, last night I was training at the gym with my cheeky personal trainer (I swear that guy is getting meaner by the minute!), doing some chest presses on the Swiss-ball; once I finished, I put the weights down and ridiculously fell off on my butt in a rather un-lady-like manner - not once, but twice! Totally Bridget Jones' style (too bad I got my own back when Matt, showing off as he was demonstrating an exercise, fell off the main stairs in front of the whole gym..his face turned raw red and we all laughed loudly!). The story does not end here. As I have previously told you, my departure is only five weeks away and, because my beloved housemate has decided to move out as well (can't blame her: how do you find some one like me to share a house with?! - in a bedlam) I am in the process of selling all of my furniture on e-bay. I am dizzy, but highly organized. So, in order not to waste time and run the risk of going crazy few days before I leave, I have listed pretty much everything on e-bay - somehow thinking that no-one would have wanted to buy my stuff.. so I sat there on Sunday night and made a list of all the pieces of furniture I'll need to sell: fridge, washer, sofas, bedside table, bed.. and what's the first thing that the 'blond' lady puts on the market?! and what's the item that sells within a day?! Moral of the story: as from tomorrow, the wee Italian chick shall be camping in her own home for 4 weeks!
Have a laugh on me.
PS: Stef, can I borrow you air-bed?! (",)

Beauty is a Light in the Heart

"Beauty is not in the face; it is a light in the heart" is a quote by Khalil Gibran (1883-1931). I have only read "The Prophet" by this astounding author, but his evocative style and suggestive imagery have been fascinating me for a number of years and, as I am looking at some pictures taken over my visit to Naples last week, those words are resounding in my mind. Despite all the upheaval to get home and the countless hic-ups along the way (like having the most severe nose-bleed in your life as you are driving your sick mother to the er..),it was great to be home and to see my folks. Mom even managed to get home from the hospital in time for her birthday, which was a huge blessing. Not only did she look as gorgeous as usual (ever since I was a little child I have had to deal with my mates commenting on how beautiful my mom is..), but there was a radiance in her that can only be compared to pure, pentrating light shining off a lighthouse in the midst of a sea storm. She has just completed her third of six cycles of chemotherapy and despite having suffered severely from all the expected side effects of both her illness and its treatment, her moral strength,determination and faith have been admirable and inspirational. Fourty-eight and not looking a day over 25!!!My mom: what a wonderful woman she is. (If anything I looked pretty rough on her birthday..d'oh!) Love ya!! *PS: We just got the result from the first post-chemo scan and the cancer is shrinking!!! Praise God!!!

Or Some Cruel Valentine..

Darlin',Your Broken Heart Was Never on My Mind!
Not to worry,my fellow bloggers,this ain't another Valentines' "woe is me I am single" type of post!!!As I often tell my dear friend Mike,"singleness is not a disease",it's a status and,on days like this,a really good one to have too! The title of this post is taken from the song Portrait by Duke Special (who I posted about previously)..and on a day infesed by cheese-filled heart shaped balloons and wee-blond-curly-haired men in little pants shooting arrows at seemingly spell-bound targets for blatant consummeristic propaganda,I feel like as if I had been tricked by some rather cruel Valentine indeed!!! To add to the enormous frustration of the last two months (I cannot honestly think of anything else which could go wrong in my life),on Monday I got lost around flippin' Birmingham (hopefully none of you readers is from there - if you are,my condolences:you live in the worst place in Britain by far!!!),miraculously got to Stansted Airport on time and then,due to the unbelievable calmness of the bus driver who drove the shuttle service from the car park to the terminal building, I arrived to the check in desk 2 whole minutes after the check-in for my flight had closed. Having been sat in a car for a grand total of five and a half hours,and being absolutely desperate to get home to see my poorly mother,I implored the stewart to let me through. After I explained the situation and when I eventually started to bawling up, the muppet sarcastically asked me to stop playing the "crying-card",because it wasn't going to work with him! Well done,tough guy:you are officially a cretin and a pretty big one too!!!So I got a flight transfer to the following day,which I meant that I got to spend the next 24 hrs in London. Now,you all know my passion for travel and adventure and I guess that,under different circumstances,I should have been delighted to spend a whole day in the capital..but,no.Not when it's pouring it down,it's gloomy,all of your Londoner-friends have got married and moved out of the big city and you cannot find room in any hotels..wandering with your suitcase and a certain amount of bitterness.Soaked,sweaty and £95 later,I found room at the Ibis hotel..mmmmmmmm...niiiiiiice! Cried my eyes out a little more (by this stage I had completely ignored my ability to produce any more tears),drunk half a bottle of rather nice Chilean white and crashed under the crisp white cotton sheets. The day after,hell bent to get that flight on time,I made my way to the airport four hours early.Got there,checked in,went to sicurity,got searched 'cause I'd left my vaselline out of the sealed transparent plastic bag,boarded onto the plane,took off...then we started to fly lower and lower (on a perfectly sunny day) an hour later landed to what,to much of our disappointment,was yet again STANSTED AIRPORT!!!!!!!!!!!!!A fellow on the plane had low blood pressure and the doc on board didn't want to take responsability for him (fair enough).So we stopped,someone on the plane explained to someone who told someone else why the paramedics were taking one of the passengers out. Then we were told we would have taken off again within ten minutes. Sure thing an hour and a half later we were still on the ground and being told we would have had to change aircraft..so we did:two hours and 15 minutes later. Got offered a round of 'complementary' soft drinks and finally landed to Naples close to 10 pm on Tuesday instead of Monday at 6 pm..moral of the story,I never got to see mom until this morning. Happy days. Courtesy of Easyjet. At moments like this I find immense solace in the fact that my faith is not exclusively based on emotivity,but it is reinforced and sustained by theological pilars whereby,even when the world is falling apart, God is still the answer. Thank God!