Hi. I'm off my soap box now. Bill, my dear Hubby, asked me when I posted the Xbox thing. I told him it was Saturday night during the 3 hour Guitar Hero marathon he was playing with the boys. He giggled. I vented... I'm over it. Like every good Italian, I am not happy unless I have something to worry about. This particular hours worry is my flight to Cincinnati on Wed. A little background. I have been flying to destinations all over the globe since birth. My parents were vacations fiends and I loved every second of it. I am not afraid to fly. Never have been. But my family, namely my 10 aunts and 8 uncles from the ole' country (Italy) and my parents, (also born and raised in Italy), had a very superstitious way of life, that was hard to avoid growing up. For every action, there is a reason, and most definitely a reaction. Simply put, when something bad happens to you before a birth, trip, surgery, dental appt, wedding, christening etc..., that usually signals doom for the upcoming event. I know, REAL NICE!!! What a way to live huh? Victim... party of one??? So yesterday, Bill, me and the kidlets all went shopping to spend their Christmas money and then went to lunch. We had a great time. It is so cool to see your kids turn into people you actually like and would want as friends if they weren't related to you!!! We were on our way home on the freeway when a truck (one of those passenger trucks where the owner jacks it up really high) lost its right front tire. Wait, not just the tire, but the entire axle, right in front of me in the right lane, I was in the lane next to him behind him a little. His entire car spins out in front of me... we are all going about 60, sparks everywhere flying around, he spins 2 times and does a great job of keeping his car upright and I SLAM on my brakes like a mad woman. (I drive on short trips because Bill drives 2-4 hours one way to work everyday, and he just needs a break sometimes.) Not one car is hurt but his, no accidents are caused, I am able to keep driving (while hyperventilating) and I pull over to catch my breath. You're thinking, like a normal, non Italian would, oh Thank God everyone is okay, nothing happened, all is well. NO!!! I don't get to do that!!! My first thought after assessing that the boys are okay, not too scared, and show them I am okay too, not to worry, is.... are you ready? Are you sure??? My first thought is IT'S AN OMEN. I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO FLY ON WED! I CAN'T GO TO CONFERENCE! THAT'S IT! Am I kidding? So what do I do the second I get home? I start trying to finish all the projects that aren't done, just in case I don't come home. You are gonna love this one. Then my crazy mind says. THAT'S WHY YOU STARTED THE BLOG... YOUR LAST WORDS, blah, blah blah... and so it went. I started to think I had to tell the boys who to marry, what to name their children, finish the blanket I am crocheting for Johnny, do all the laundry, take a picture of myself (oh the horror), and on, and on, and on... No, I didn't tell them that stuff, it would have scared them to death. But guess what...Every single one of my 68 cousins including me, heard those same things growing up before every trip, surgery etc... Do you know that I was not allowed to touch my stomach while sneezing when I was pregnant. Why? you ask? Because the baby would have a big brown birth mark on the part of his body nearest my hand. And upon birth, money is placed in the babies hand (wrapped in linen) to ensure prosperity (I liked that one, we did that one). The list goes on and on. It was fun when all my cousins, who were born in America, only about 16 of us, would get together when we were teenagers and use the superstitions to watch all the "immigrants" (our parents) squirm. More loving fun was never had. We would step on cracks, promise to never be married in the Catholic Church (I actually didn't, not being Catholic since 12, that still does not sit well with the Aunts and Uncles and I am yet to be officially married in their eyes. I got married in a Presbyterian Church because I liked the way it looked, our church was at a YMCA), and so on... When my mom had me, she had only been in this country for 3 years, so all this stuff was fresh for her. She has mellowed a tiny bit, and is more Americanized now. I can look back now and laugh, but boy was I a worry wart back then!!! I loved my upbringing. It was fun and funny, but boy does some of that stuff STICK!!! I am okay now. I know I'll be fine. Just writing about it makes me feel better. Ha ha!!! But just in case... say a little prayer for me on Wed. I'm flying American from LAX to Dallas to Cincinnati. No harm in making double sure... right??? Well, I'm off to have a portrait taken of myself now. NO!!! Just kidding. Have a wonderful day!!!