Pascal Pilgrimage to Padre Pio in Puglia

Returning home from a 4 day coach trip to San Giovanni Rotonda in Puglia, Italy. This is right around the Achilles tendon of the Italian boot, so to speak..for those of us who aren't geographically savvy. It was a wonderfully spiritual experience to visit the sacred sanctuary of this miraculous Saint. Padre Pio was known for his endlessly bleeding hands which blessed the sick. There have been hundreds of recorded, documented official medical miracles, similar to Saint Bernadette's miracles of Lourdes, France. He was the latest named Saint of our times prior to the canonization of Mother Theresa. In this beautiful town in Puglia, I attended Easter mass at Padre Pio's church among thousands of others. It was really lovely. (Wow, did I just use that word? That is not one of my usuals, I always thought of it as a cute, little old lady word ;)
Well, for the record, I won't be taking anymore coach tours, that is for-fucking-sure (ok...that is one of my usuals ;) My ass hurts, my back hurts, my head hurts from listening to the country folk bitch about EVERYTHING! This is not home sickness, this is straight-up frustration! I would have stayed back but in order to be with my beau, I had to take part in the tour portion of the pilgrimage because he is the tour operator and I love him. The sacrifice of already being away from my family and home, lonely, a little sad, overwhelmed, exhausted and completely at my wit's end was apparently not enough. What we do for love is stupid sometimes because although visiting the shrine and tomb of an incredible soul...I had to endure some serious shit. Did I mention the relentless umbilical cord that can't be cut between an Italian man and his home, his roots, his blood? Or the proverbial tit? It is due time to close this session.
A domani ;)

Concussion Confusion in Palermo

Manuela, who just left, is my good friend. She is a diamond in the rough. How could I have been so lucky to have encountered this gem of a woman? She is profound, kind, gentle, sensitive, dear, beautiful, loving, concerned, gracious, sincere, generous, witty, intelligent and real. Sorry to say, that many of my other friends could take a lesson in how to be a real friend by her. Shoot, I don't remember the last time someone was this genuinely sweet back home. She worked a 16 hour swing shift, took care of her dying father and tended to my sorry ass today..but that is her everyday and had to run home to eat dinner with her husband that waits to take his insulin shot til she returns home. He won't eat without her. In the States it seems that so many are so caught up in their own dramas, their own empty routines, stresses and bullshit that somehow, we forgot to be good to each other. Until we give, we have nothing and that is a fact. There is nothing satisfying in taking...unless of course you are just an asshole that lives in the shallowest of ways. Being good, giving and loving..is the only way to leave this place in peace one day. I can say that there are some Sicilian assholes as well but I have to tell you that the worst kind of asshole here equals a typical self-centered person back home..and that is sad because our country is great. Our culture sucks because it breeds such malignant narcissism. I wish we could learn from Manuela and strong secular cultures and fix what is missing in our shallow States because otherwise, we have a great country too.

Chillin' with my girlfriend & Frozen Peas

Taking some time to ice my head and chat with my good friend Manuela....get back to this in bit. Cheers!

Hit my Head Hard

Did it really take slamming my head onto tiled cement steps inside this 600 year old house to realize the extent of my suffering, obsession and crazy behavior? Almost breaking my hip, ribs, shoulder and cranium has caused me to lay my ass down, take some pain killers, ice my head, breathe deeply through the aches and take a good, long look at the mess of my life. Had I been 'jolted out of denial?'..(quote seems to fit since 'Codependent No More' is the book I happen to have chosen for the duration of that evening). Until I fall asleep in this old bed in Sicily, 7 covers, 2 dogs, cold feet, cozy, alone, in pain..I could continue to wonder..Why was I rushing so fast, so often? What was so fucking important? It's like I'm running from myself...from what? Slow down Julia, it is not worth all this trouble. I ask myself and tell myself but still it takes a perpetual accident to bring me down, to rest, to see clearly with a concussion. Ridiculous, pathetic, sad.....but true.

Julia in Sicily

Today marks the very beginning of living...truly in Italy. I spent the last two weeks getting settled, unpacking, clearing up mess back home, getting reacquainted, and resting (after that psycho move my entire life into a huge storage room). I am happy to report that it was a good decision but one that I never expected to receive such stress, grief and negative judgement from others. It was shocking really, I thought if anything I may find disbelief or some sort of support but instead it was the total opposite. Where I received support was from persons whom I never, ever expected and once again, where I sought out support, I had nothing but pain and drama. Today I start my life for me, not for anyone else and it is way over due. I hope you learn from my mistakes and make changes when they are due because life is too short to put up with bullshit, especially when you deserve better.

Now please, excuse me...it's time to walk myself up the street and indulge in a giant Sicilian saffron rice ball stuff with tomato-meat sauce and fresh peas that has been hand breaded and deep-fried to perfection!!!! I will be stuffing my face happily admiring one of Sicily's most amazing structures...La Cattedrale...the Cathedral...it is breathtaking!!! The church that both my older brothers were married in.

Arrivederci! See you later!