Keeping up with the Tranettes. An ode to my favorite relative.

            I come from a stereotypically large Italian family; my dad is 1 of 6 and almost all of his siblings already have grandchildren.  I have 2 aunts, 3 uncles, and more cousins than I can count.  The thing with having such a big family is that I could pass people on the street, walk right by them and not even know we are related . . .And you know what? That works for me.  I do not really care to be close with people that have a huge generation gap and I have nothing in common with other than a few strands of DNA. 

            On that note, when my personal social networking site started getting friend requests from people whose names I did not recognize, I figured it was time to take a stand.  Extended family is a group you are born into, not necessarily obligated to.  I have friends that I consider family more so than cousins living in other countries I never met before.  Now this is not to offend any of my family, I am just saying, if we haven’t spoken in 20+ years other than the occasional funeral; we don’t really have anything to talk about now, do we?  I am a big supporter of having a few close friends and that is that.  I will talk to anybody, but I will not forge a relationship just out of obligation.  It is okay.  We all lived our lives without keeping in touch for years, we can do it again, little buddy; I won’t be mad. 

            Yet, with this large sea of people I call my family, one-person stands out above the rest; my favorite Aunt, Charlie[*].  Aunt Char, as she is so lovingly referred to in this blog, is the most traditional Italian woman you will ever meet.  Every Sunday she wakes up bright and early, picks fresh basil, parsley and tomatoes from her homegrown garden and starts making a sauce for her Sunday Feast.  She is the kind of woman that still has her shag carpet, boomerang table and giant ceramic leopard from the 70’s because, that stuff never goes out of style!  My Aunt Char will always welcome you into her dark yet humble abode and immediately offer you a seat on her plastic covered furniture.  Which happens to be covered in plastic because God forbid you drop something on her couch--she will never let you forget it! [To my older brother, I am sorry she is STILL yelling at you for scratching her table when you were 2; It doesn’t matter that you are 26 now.] My Aunt Char is a US Citizen, despite being born in Italy, but refuses to ever leave this country because she loves it so much.  She is 5’5, rail thin (and don’t you forget it!) has long black hair, smokes a cigarette a minute (they’re only Capris, how bad can they be?) and has a mustache that can rival that of any motorcycle rider.

            Aunt Charlie also loves a good party; she will travel hours on the LIE just for a  good party with some shrimp cocktail.  But, no matter who’s party it is, family or friend, she will not be drinking any of your beverages.  You see, if my aunt Char were a Barbie, her accessory pack would come with some Capri cigarettes, a fanny pack, her homegrown tomatoes, and a bottle of water she brought from home.  You see, it’s not that my aunt is a conspiracy theorist per se; it’s just that she does not want to drink any of your poison water or eat the tomatoes that came in the salad you made.  She will drink her own tap water and eat the tomatoes she brought with her because she knows their lineage. My aunt is extremely loving and has two children whom are, in every sense of the word, the fruit of her loins.  Her two children, Lorena and Ralph, are the spitting image of my Aunt Char and Uncle Fred.  Ralph is like his father, indifferent to family feuds and passive; while Lorena is all her mother, filled with contempt and fueled by conspiracies.  They are the spitting image of every 1950’s household; happy, serene, Long Island-- you get a very ‘Stepford’ vibe from their presence. 

            Holidays at their house leaves nothing to be desired; there are decorations (that you cannot touch unless you want a 40 minute speech screamed in your face about how when you were 4 you touched a 99cent glass ornament and it broke), movies (my cousin Lorena can name every anti-anxiety medication Donnie Darko should have been prescribed) and of course, what Italian holiday dinner would be complete without a feast? But if you are going to show up for the holidays, please be prompt (she has been slaving away all day over this meal), come hungry (but not too hungry, you only get half a manicotti per person), and do not comment on the rationing of the food (ungrateful gavone.) 

            If you asked me why my Char is my favorite, as if it is unclear from this blog--a testament to her life, I would tell you it is because there is just no one quite like her.  She is punchy, has spunk, full of life, and whenever I see her, I always have a good story to tell.  She does not bend for anyone and she most certainly does not hold back (she once kicked my little brother out of a party because she didn’t know who he was.)  In short words, she is the kind of woman everyone can aspire to be; full of life, charisma, self sufficient (hello garden vegetables) and ready to cut faces if the opportunity presents itself.

---

[*] Pseudonym.  She would beat me with a wooden spoon if she found out she is on the internet.

Big Boys Don't Cry

When children are growing up, it is perfectly acceptable for little girls to wear dresses, pink, play with Barbies and cry.  But a boy, no.  A boy is supposed to make the girl cry, play with G.I. Joes, leggos, break things, and play sports.  This is our culture; this is a social stereotype, and this is what is generally ‘socially acceptable.’  Now I am not saying that these are my views, I am just saying they are observations in life. 

In the adolescent years, girls join dance class and boys join sports.  Throwing all their newfound testosterone and teenage angst into their love for sports, boys get really passionate and competitive about it.  They will do anything to win and their coaches remind them of that with praise, punishment, long drawn out speeches and rallies.  Again, this is our culture.  The culture of sports as a whole, professional or not, is to win.  You cannot be the best if you do not win; giving it your all isn’t going to cut it, you have to win.

It is with this mentality that I am not in the least bit shocked that teams in the NFL have ‘bounty incentive programs.’  Why is everyone so surprised?  The sport of football is all about pummeling your opponent, yet being in complete control over your body.  If you hit the quarterback after the ball has been thrown, penalty. If you hit a player helmet-to-helmet, penalty.  So why would anyone think that any time a player is hit and needs to be carried off the field that it was an ‘accident’ and it was not meticulously calculated before hand.  Football is all about control and results.  There would not be so many injuries if they were all ‘accidents.’  Let’s be honest with ourselves for a minute.  We, as viewers, turned a blind eye to the bounty program, because it was a whisper and we did not want to believe that our heroes could be so ‘evil’, but let us not mistake ignorance for genuine shock.  It is more shocking that no one cared about the issue until it was blatantly brought to the foreground.  Furthermore, athletes make a lot of money.  I do not ever want to see anyone get hurt, especially not anyone on my fantasy team, but the sport is violent and they knew the risks coming into this profession.  That is why they get paid a lot.  Every job has their risks and rewards, and unfortunately for athletes, the NFL has the highest of each.

I am sorry to all ‘true fans’ who [ignorantly] are genuinely surprised by this news.  It does not change the sport or your heroes; it just shows what an aggressive sport and culture it is we live in.  I am sure one coach just wanted his team to play harder so he enticed them with money and before you knew it, it spun out of control.  But please don’t all act genuinely shocked.  It happened, it sucks, but it was always a probability that this was going on.  We are a culture of violence.  Just look, for example, how traditional boxing has been replaced and overshadowed with the much more violent sport of UFC and MMA.  It is with all these popularly violent sports that we should be embarrassed at ourselves for idolizing and encouraging this kind of behavior.  Not turn a blind eye and then once the story comes out condemn all parties involved.  But alas, ignorance is always bliss, isn’t it? And once something comes to the forefront it is hard to stuff it back in Pandora’s box and ignore it all over again.

Social Scientist- Still Fishing

Hello Lovers! 

I decided to create this post to list my findings as I go along and find them.  Not that I like to post two posts in one day on the same subject, but in light of new [and hilarious] events (stories) I feel it is necessary.  I am going to post all new findings in a list format so it will be easily recognizable when something is new.  These aren't necessarily in a number of importance or relevance, just issues that arose at the very moment.


One- DO NOT BE CREEPY.  You want to be cute or playful, FINE, but by all means PLEASE for the love of God, PLEASE know when enough is enough.  I just got the following message 'you look delicious and I would like to taste you :)'  Now, that is freakin' WEIRD.  First off, you can take it as the kinky way (vomit) but the smiley face makes it more friendly not sexual; so that leaves us with the second option CANNIBALISM.  You just sound like a crazy psycho who I would never want to meet alone in fear that you will kill me, eat my muscles and wear my skin around as a house coat.  Thank you, Buffalo Bill, but your message immediately goes into the 'delete. get the fuck away from me' pile on accounts of SERIOUS creepyness.  We all learned at a young age, thanks to little red riding hood, not to trust strangers especially when they BLATANTLY tell you they want to eat you.  I need to take a shower; my skin is crawling with 'irk'yness.

Two- Lets all take the highroad here.  Rejection sucks. Always.  There is no way around it.  So if you need to reject someone, who is seemingly nice just not your type, then do it nicely.  You wouldn't want to be demeaned and hurt, so keep that in mind when you are trying to let someone down.  Easy is the way to go.  Because, lets face it, you probably put enough information on your profile for them to find you and take out their disgruntled frustration on you (see above post).  On the other hand, if you are rejected, again take the highroad.  There is no reason to berate someone with insults and say that they're ugly or name calling or whatever.  Because we all know that isn't true.  You were just interested in getting in their pants and the first sign of trouble you're vicious? Lets all calm down here.  It's not that serious, they're probably just a fat sad sack sitting on their couch waiting for someone to like their photoshopped photo.  Or at least that's what I like to tell myself if I ever get rejected.  And if someone starts telling you that you're ugly once you reject them, they're probably crying into a pint of ice-cream so don't take them seriously at all.  Our egos can all make it past the internet.  They probably aren't as good-looking as their 10 year old photo looks anyway.

Three- Do not write a novel.  Make sure your initial email is concise, intriguing, specific enough so the person will want to speak to you again but not so specific that they will know your whole life story.  If it is longer than 4 or 5 lines, it’s too much.  No one wants to feel like they are reading a homework assignment when you are trying to woo them.  Also, generic emails makes people feel unwanted, a notch in a belt, like they aren’t worth the 5 minutes it takes you to read their profile and come up with something clever.  So, just get out there. Strike up a conversation about whatever minimal fact they have on their profile that relates to you and go with it.  ‘You have red hair? I’m a ginger too! Slainte’  Just get out there and act normal.  The more you try the more you will be your own repellant. 

Just Fishin'

I have been in a serious and long-term relationship for a couple of years now, so I have been out of the ‘dating scene’ for quite some time. My brother, however, the eternal player that he is, has taken his dating plight to the internet to maximize his dating potential [in true Barney Stinson fashion].  After making a very blunt ‘I’m just looking to hookup’ profile, he decided to change his approach and make it a little more ‘crowd friendly’.  In the meantime, we wanted to see how other men approached women on a generic (FREE) dating site, so we decided that I would make a profile and see how people responded.

Now, this is funny for a few reasons. 

1-I tried to be as honest as possible, but I am ridiculous so I made sure my crazy was ALL over my profile

 2-I am in a relationship so nothing is ever going to happen other than research, this awesome blog, and a good laugh

3-the responses that followed were some of THE MOST amazing things I have ever come across.

I really think if any of the people messaging me met me in a bar, they would never say half the stuff they said let alone actually approach me.  I am a force to be reckoned with in person, and I tried to have that displayed on my page from the very beginning. Ie- my username expresses my detest for Hipsters.

So.  I make my ridiculous profile, don’t add a picture and wait.  I can tell from my ‘view who’s looking at you’ bar that I’ve gotten a few eyes.  I received a few generic messages ‘you sound intriguing. Lets chat’…. ‘Where are your pictures? You sound like you can be cute.’ And a few other generic templates  Then of course I got the WAY too inappropriately forward ‘I’ll give you da best d*k you eva had gurl.’  Or the ‘Hey lets makeout.’  Now I am no casanova, I usually like to say things just to make myself laugh and if it DOESN’T creep people out, then we’re good.  But honestly, who are they trying to pick up with these lines? If you’re just trying to be a creep or ‘get it in’ or if you’re 19-21 . . . go to a bar.  There is no need to be creeping on the internet if you’re young, you can go to a bar for that shtuff.  And if you’re just trying to hook up [be it making out or ‘getting it in’] then GO TO A BAR! I am not going to give up my safety (I’m speaking for women in general here) and meet you in person JUST to make out or roll around in your [probably bed bug riddled] bed with God knows who else’s excrement’s. 

Day two.  I upload my picture..just 2 and see what happens.  I feel like a little scientist, lurking behind my computer safe and sound giggling waiting to see what hilarity will ensue next.  I get A LOT more bites than I did without the picture (obviously. Hahaha).  Now I’m getting people who are impatient and feel the need to message me TWICE,  Now the problem with doing that is you seem desperate and VERY needy.  If I were looking for anything, it wouldn’t be found in some average looking guy continuously telling me where he’s from and offering to hang out or sending that and then ‘let me know when you’re ready’.  Obviously. I know I’ll let you know IF I want to hang out, the thing is, TAKE THE HINT. . . I DON’T want to hang out! 

The trick with internet dating is that you need to REALLY be critical in your self-evaluation.  Yes, there’s no harm in trying, but if you’re a 5, don’t go for a 10.  It’s just uncomfortable for all parties involved.  I am in no position to knock anyone for their looks and I am not the kind of person to be openly rude to someone just for being ugly-- but if you’re going to be rudely persistent, creepy or straight up dirty . . . kiddo I am going to call you on it.  It is a known fact that in every relationship there is a reacher and a settler , but sometimes you have to know what’s reaching within your reach and what is REALLY reaching.  If you’re a ‘4’, you can probably reach up to a ‘6’, and that is if your personality is dazzeling and whatnot.  But if you’re a ‘4’ to reach to a ‘10’? That is just blasphemy.  Even if you’re a 7 sometimes reaching for a 10 is iffy.  And me, I’m more about personality than looks, so my number scale can go for either personality or looks [depending on how superficial I feel in the moment. . . .JOKE]. 

Everyone tells you when you internet date you need to know what you want, who you are looking for, be yourself, be honest, yadda yadda yadda.  What they don’t tell you is ‘hey. You have a very short window to convey yourself to someone else.’  I’m not talking about the bio, I’m talking about writing a message!  Writing a message is hard, you never know what to say or how to say it.  The written word is hard; Will my joke come across as a joke or make me sound arrogant? They haven’t responded in 30 minutes, do they not like me?   Everybody just needs to relax.  It is just as hard to come up with a response as it is to initiate.  But if you have the wrong opening email, chances are you are not going to get the opportunity to redeem yourself in a follow-up without pummeling your interest’s inbox. 

So before you take your love search to the risky road of the internet, THINK.  Think of all the cheesy pickup lines you’ve heard/seen/used in the past and think of how they will be perceived how much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice! I’m so and so.  If you’re cute, you can use things like that.  If you’re not, it doesn’t come off as ‘cute funny cheesy’ it comes off as ‘what a creep he thinks he has a chance.’  So, like any other life endeavor, know your station in the hierarchy.  Do not reach too high unless you want to be stunted into embarrassment by someone who thinks they are hotshit and probably aren’t. 

As this blog is being written in Real Time I will keep this as a re-occuring segment in my posts.  Every so often I will create a new blog on the same subject matter with my new findings.  The ocean is very large, my dear readers, and thus there are plenty of fish.  I will let you know the do's and don'ts of getting around the web 'watering hole', because clearly the usual 'in person bar moves' are no longer as adequate.  Tune in next time, love lust readers. Keep up the optimism! xoxo