Sunday Night Journal

“It’s a roastah. Debbie got a roastah. It’s beautiful.”
“Now, ya going to have to cook for Ernie, Debbie.”
“Are you kiddin’ me. She doesn’t cook. She’s too busy going to the tanning salon.”
“I got this tan from being outside, Ma. I told you.”
“Psst. Sylvia, you shouda heard the phone messages from Ernie’s side of the family. One lady called and said ‘I’ma coming to your party. You calla me.’ And I’m like, I should call you? Debbie’s mother in law expected her to go her to house every Sunday at 1:00 for pasta, you know like my mother always did. But Debbie said, “no way. ‘I go the beach on the weekends’.”
“Debbie, this is longest shower I’ve evah been to. When is this going to end?”

My mom’s cousin’s Rita’s kid (got that?), Debbie, had her bridal shower this afternoon. 85 people. Rose center pieces. Party favors. 5 course meal, including a salad with “prochoot,” chicken Milanese, and a napoleon cake. Some old lady passed around baskets of homemade Italian cookies. I adore that side of the family, which we only see at weddings. Luckily, everyone is getting married, some more than once.

Everybody is full of sarcasm and warmth and intelligence. The matriarch of that side of the family, my Zia Iola, was a real powerhouse. Smart enough to go to college, but held back by her father who thought that college would make her a whore. The brains have all been passed down. Don’t let the Bronx accents and gold jewelry fool you.

It’s just that sometimes I get the feeling that Martin Scorcese is hiding behind the curtain and filming the whole thing.

I also like that when I’m around them, I remember that I have ethnicity. There is still a memory of old traditions from Italy and some newer traditions that revolve around the tight family circles of the Bronx.

My friend Melissa recently told me that ethnicity is much more recognized in the New York area than in San Francisco, where she is now. Out there, it’s weird to go around telling people that you are Jewish or Irish or whatever. In New York, nobody loses their ethnicity.

Anyhow, this week on 11D, I think I’ll have an education post. Amy the Commenter is agitating for something on approaches to reading. I also started reading Harry’s most excellent book, On Education (Thinking in Action). I’m also getting really steamed up about Darfur, so expect some incoherent rantings on that, as well.