Stateside Buonaserra!

Why anyone ever leaves the Amalfi coast is stupefying. Author included. Let’s come back as Italians in our next Buddhist go around; they have mastered the art of maximizing good wine intake, minimizing hard work output and yet remain world master fashionistas. There are pullover limoncello stands on curveside outposts of cliffside serpentine roads from Naples to Positano and are totally riding the coattails of folks like Michelangelo who haven’t been around for centuries. Genius! I sent you a postcard but am cautiously optimistic it will reach you as my stamps from the store postmaster may have been legit or a sham sale of stickers from the back of an Italian Highlights search and find. Everybody’s got a racket.

We said a prayer for you in the Sistine Chapel to the Angel Raphael. He’s the ARchangel of Healing. And is one of the only ones that’s painted like a cute cherub; most others look like demon angels. At any rate, let’s hope he was listening.

Bought this card because it looked fancy Italian to me. However, it came with an insert (that you can’t read until you buy and open the packaging) that says it is fragile and to hand deliver only. Which totally defies the point of an envelope that says extra postage required.

The latest from UM:

My friend Sammy – long time law firm confidant who also made the urban to Mayberry jump, just with a different zipcode – has a son who is half sweet, half (okay maybe 2/3) hellion. He is super cute – channeling the cherubic Raphael look – with strawberry blonde hair and freckles; also very bright. He has also been kicked out of every school within a 20 mile radius of his home. Does well academically only when he wants to. Aces every standardized test put in front of him. Sammy says Orin will either end up in prison or CEO of a major corporation – or both? They’ve considered military school, but decided his next stop would be a very upscale private city school that caters to high maintenance gold coast super affluent neighborhood kids. the $60k a year price tag (for high school?!!!) allows admissions committees looking at candidates like Orin with parents willing to write that check in full to say things like “We believe your son is really just misunderstood.” And “He’s clearly been underchallenged by school staff elsewhere” (even though their other four kids are doing JUST FINE in the other school elsewhere just down the street from their suburban Mcmansion).

So Orin gets accepted and starts riding the train into the city with his dad every day. He is doing great for the first few months until a local celebrity’s kid decided to pick on Orin. Orin’s getting a lot of attention: doing well in classes and noticed by girls, asked to join the lacrosse and squash teams because he’s also athletic. Not a huge kid by any stretch, but can hold his own.

The celebrity kid (we’ll call him Caleb) decides to get physical with Orin. Shoving him into lockers and walls just outside of security camera view; knocking books out of hands between classes. Endless shoelace style trips and relentless taunting. No one comes to Orin’s physical aid (half the kids believe they’re gonna be the next Disney child star and can’t risk getting into fisticuffs or over creasing brows that may be worth a fortune some day). They don’t stand up for Orin, but they do report Caleb to the teachers and principal. The school has a no bullying policy – but like the policy here, it really just means that the school decides who gets to bully who. The mean girl style movement at the school is epic, which the pricetag tolerates. It’s an urban school championing what they call “forward thinking” if not in actuality enabling 19th century ogre behavior. In today’s world, forward thinking means out-embracing every other school’s benchmarks on gender neutrality. You can be LGBTQP or any other letter of the alphabet. You can dress as a boy, girl, cousin It from the Addams family so long as you are doing it in the name of gender neutrality.

Caleb is getting reported right and left: in one day nearly a dozen students report his bullying. It’s no longer unnoticeable.

Caleb knows he is on the brink of real trouble. So the very next day he starts sporting a skirt, knee highs and Mary Janes to school, but continues to belittle Orin and wreak hell on the rest of the underdog student population. Caleb now believes he has rendered his she-self politically untouchable.

Sammy and her husband are pissed. They are told Orin will have extra protection at school. And Orin still wants to go as he likes everything about his day at this school except Caleb.

Caleb goes too far one day and chunks the back of Orin’s head fast and hard into the water fountain where Orin was filling his Hydroflask. His head smacks the refill center at just the right angle and fast enough that it breaks the bridge of Orin’s and he chips a tooth.

Orin whirls around, nose bleeding profusely, mouth throbbing, and shoves she-him Caleb away from him. The shoves sends Caleb and his Mary Janes head over sequin peter pan collared shirt heels down a flight of steps.

A mandatory meeting is called where Caleb and his newscaster mom play the Helen of Troy victim card demanding that Orin be expelled “for pushing a girl down the steps”. Sammy – who had to leave the middle of a big M&A deal at her firm for this ridiculousness slated during work hours – explodes: “That’s NOT a GIRL! THAT’S A DICK in a DRESS”. Now can we be DONE with this FARCE!?” She threatens to call the competitor news channels with the story if this isn’t resolved right now. The other taunted kid parents applaud, Caleb and celebri-mom storm out and classes resumed in calmer fashion the next day. Caleb reportedly started wearing pants and overpriced sweatshirts like every other kid there.

I’m not sure what, if any, the moral to that story is, but:

1. If I had to give title to it, it would be one of:
   • First world problems redefined;
   • 1st world problems 2.0;
   • Boy Bullies don’t wear dresses; or,
   • Cock in the schoolhouse (personal fav)
2. And, at least I’m not hating on our own suburban school system for neutrality issues, yet, although Sydney catches heat from some of the socialmongers in her class for NOT being gay. How can you say you are for individual equity and then judge people for their individuality just because it’s not “as cool” as what you decided to be this five minutes? Baffling.

One of my highschool besties is gay. I was his date Junior Year. He’s always worn understated clothes; if he wore a dress, I don’t know that anyone would have cared even then. He probably would have looked a lot better in my dress than I did. Further proof to why all schools should require easy for all to get uniforms: let clothing drama ensue after class is dismissed.

Miss you tons – LOTS of fun snippets to share from the wedding; you asked about the others also in attendance. The bride was great. We already knew the groom is a stand up guy. Two quick notables:

The bride was clearly the outcast of her family having moved to Chicago, become an established professional, as her whole side consisted of the wicked stepsister cousins sporting verbal daggers on their road to being eternal spinsters. They were putting the bride herself down for freezing her eggs on the van ride to the rehearsal dinner. These girls were ready to Cinderella chop off their foot to nail a man; stepping in between significant others – as if anyone would bring a date to the Amalfi coast and then dump them there? How does that happen to an entire generation of cousins. Maybe sibling rivalry like the midwest version of a very low caliber Dynasty cast?

The other guilty by American association guest story involves one of Pete’s old military friends who is in his 50s was make-out tongue style crazy PDA with his trashy also his age POS date. When trying to bond, she told me she was going to “land a pilot” – gross! And that she didn’t care that her daughter, the same age as Sydney hated the idea and was hanging with a bad group of kids as payback. Mama’s got priorities, I suppose; and that priority is “landing a pilot.” They’re engaged now, too, so I guess birds of a feather on that one. They showed up to the town late, almost made us late, she sported the worst ever press on nails despite being a supposed nail tech, and then ordered and drank expensive wine on my tab before we finally left for the church- seriously? Could you not check a single one of the good guest humility boxes?

Guess it’s good to know who the black sheep are for fear it otherwise may be you. Everything else about the trip was picture perfect (although no ring – I wasn’t expecting it, but would have been nice). Beggars can’t be choosers; and I’m no beggar.

Get healthy so we can go back there – so made the girls trip potentials list!

Hang in there – xoxox love ya’, Stormy