Can you tell the difference between porn stars and dictators by their mustaches alone?
From Danias Dailies:
1. Did you ever have a nickname growing up? What was it? Do you have one now? How did you get them?
Twinkie. Back then it had a whole other meaning to me than it does now. One day in high school I was accused of selling twinkies in the back row of class. I wasn’t. The closest thing resembling a current nickname is “Vinnie.” I don’t particularly like it, but it doesn’t really bother me.
2. Your ideas about religions and/or a god or gods — and if these ideas are in any way different from those held and imparted by your parents?
My family isn’t particularly religious, but they all believe in god. I don’t think any of them know why or what that’s supposed to mean. I guess I believe there’s balance in the universe. I believe in Karma only in the sense that I think that if you’re an asshole to others, others will treat you accordingly . I don’t think there’s anything particularly cosmic involved.
I went through an important Macaluso Family rite of passage last night. Carlos and I went to Wal-Mart before my 8:30 class and I put pots and pans on Layaway.
When I moved, I aquired a frying pan from Julie – a kickass soft-handled Wear-Ever. I totally love this pan and have been looking for the matching set of pots for over a year now. Usually all I find from Wear-Ever are the alluminum-handled variety that I have grown to fear since a certain hand-burning incident a few years ago. Anyway, last night my search came to an end. There, at the end of the cookwear isle, was the holy grail: a seven piece soft-handled Wear-Ever set!
Then it happened, as I was checking out at the Lawaway department, like a voice from the heavens…
Voice From Heavens: Vincent Maca.. Maca.. Maca.. How you say dat?
Carlos: Macaluso (giggle)
VFH: Vincent Macalarso. Did I say that right? Please report to the front of the store, your party is checking out and is going to leave you. Vincent Maca.. Maca… Macalso, please report to lane 15, your party is going to leave you. Vincent Maca.. Macluso, please report to the front of the store. Your party is checking out in lane 15 and is going to leave you.
VFH: Vincent Mac… Maca… Macluso. Please report to the front …
This went on for almost my entire trip to the front of the store. Thank you Carlos. This is where I ask everyone to check out this picture of Carlos and leave a comment. Thankyouverymuch.
I was talking with Gina during lunch the other day, and she remarked that I may be going through some sort of depression. I’ve been thinking more and more lately that she may be right. I’m not all Brian Wilson depressed; locking myself in a room, crying and listing to the cure or anything like that. But I have noticed that I’ve been especially sensitive and irritable lately. Dan will do or say something and I immediately get defensive – usually in some internal dialogue between myself and an Imaginary Dan. Them a few hours later, I think to myself.. “self, why did that upset me?” Plus there’s the whole lack of motivation and resistance to sleep that I’ve had the last few years. For instance, the house will get to be a total mess, even for my standards, and it just doesn’t really bother me anymore. I’d rather watch TV or surf the net than.. well, pretty much do anything. School defintaly helps break up the monotony, but I can barely work up enough gumption to open the book when I’m not in class. I thank $DIETY that I’m going to delghetto, where the bar is set pretty low. Not that I think I’m not smart enough to handle a “real” school – I just don’t think I’d be putting in the time.
Ah well, here’s to hoping it’s just a phase I’m going though – I can’t really afford to seek a professional. :(
I’ve had this idea for a year or so to compile all of the songs that have somehow effected me in one way or another, and burn them to a CD – a sort of soundtract to my life. It sounds cheesy, but I thought it make a cool xmas present or something.
I’m trying to think of songs that I’d use. Here’s the list so far.
Murder of One – Counting Crows
I was sitting in the bath tub one day in 1994, crying. I was 265 pounds. I had more issues than People Weekly. I was miserable. Bottomed out in the self-esteem department I guess. I wasn’t contemplating anything drastic, but I was definately having a pity party; and no one brought dip.
In my left hand was my best friend (no not that, you pervert), my bright yellow indestructable Sony “Soort” Walkman. In it, playing, was August and Everything After by the Counting Crows. I had listened to this album a hundred thousand times before, but suddenly Murder of One was about me.
There’s a bird that nests inside you
Sleeping underneath your skin
When you open up your wings to speak
I wish you’d let me in
All your life is such a shame, shame, shame
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream
Open up your eyes
You can see the flames of your wasted life
You should be ashamed
You don’t want to waste your life
I walk along these hillsides
In the summer ‘neath the sunshine
I am feathered by the moonlight falling down on me
Change, change, change
I was ashamed. I was wasting my life. Only I could change, change, change. It was up to me. In the next few months I lost almost 70 pounds, and accepted aspects of my life that I couldn’t until then. I’m still far from having the moonlight feather me, but I’m definately spreading my wings.
Ants Marching – Dave Mathews
Take these chances
Place them ina box until a quieter time
Lights down, you up and die
Whenever I’m afraid to exit a role, or take a chance, etc.. These lyrics pass through my head. I’ve always been afraid of death; of growing old; of my own mortality. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still afraid of roaches – no song lyric will inspire me to stay in the same room with some vile 3 inch long winged pest – but I took my first “real” job after a 4 hour Ants Marching marathon. :)
More to follow.