There are many things that I am good at, if I do say so myself, but one of the things I am *best* at is eating.  I love to eat.  I love food.  I love all kinds of food.  I especially love food that I don’t have to cook myself.  Everyone who knows me well knows this to be true.  I don’t cook.  It’s not that I can’t cook, at least I don’t think so, it’s just that I don’t like to cook.  Let’s face it, I am one person…eternally single…what’s the point of cooking for one.  It’s not like cooking for one is easier or takes less time, hell, you still have the same about of pots and pans to clean at the end of it all.  Now if I didn’t have to be responsible for everything that goes into cooking a meal, ie. shopping, prepping, cooking, tasting, eating, cleaning…maybe then I would find it more enticing.

In America it was very easy to get by without cooking.  I went out to lunch and dinner every day.  Sure it was expensive, but it was also easy…and I’m all about easy.  Now here in Italy it’s quite a bit different.  Here, if I want to eat out it isn’t just a quick trip down the block to a diner or Chinese take-out.  Here I eat mostly at my parents or the local pizzeria.  Life here is like that for everyone…it’s normal.  So I thought “what’s a girl to do” and in pondering that I came up with this great idea.  I decided that since I have a nice house outside of the village I would put out the idea of having a dinner at my house.  Of course, after three years of being in the village everyone already here knows as well that I don’t cook.  But being the great friends that they are they agreed that we would all take part in the planning, shopping, preparing, cooking, tasting, and eating this great meal.

As with all Italian meals pasta was involved, so ours started looked a little like this…Making the pasta, in this case, Cavatelli.

And just to prove that I’m not totally useless in the kitchen I have this shot of me helping out my friends.  Check out that style!

Those Cavatelli were going to be a small part of our meal…did I mention that this meal was all based in seafood?  Well it was.

So at the end of this community effort we were all ready to dig in to the fruit’s of our labor.  The menu included a starter of Insalata di Polpo, a first course of Cavatelli alla Pescatrice, a second of Fried Baccala, followed by my very own, home grown figs.

Following such a wonderful meal with friends I couldn’t help but feel anything but blessed.  Here I am, an American girl who never ever learned to enjoy food the way the Italians do.  I found myself here, in the village, surrounded by wonderful people who have accepted me (and my ways) and instead of judging me they take me in and teach me.  I am a very lucky girl indeed.

I was tagged on Facebook by an old friend  whom I’ve known since grammer school.  The meme involved answering 100 questions about me…my favorite subject.  I figured since I actually did this one I would share it with all of you.  After all, I know you’re all dying to know. 

 

1. ONE OF YOUR SCARS, HOW DID YOU GET IT?
Just one? I have so many! How about a beautiful 6 inch scar under my left breast from a heart surgery in 1991.

 

2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?
Paint.

 

3. DO YOU SNORE, GRIND YOUR TEETH, OR TALK IN YOUR SLEEP?
I deny, deny, deny all of the above, although, others will say otherwise.

 

4. WHAT TYPE OF MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
Everything but country.

 

5. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
2:57 pm. My mother always said I was just in time to watch General Hospital.

 

6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
Sunshine on my face.

 

7. WHAT DO YOU MISS?
Working with Hospice.

 

8. WHAT IS YOUR MOST PRIZED POSSESSION(S)?
My artwork.

 

9. HOW TALL ARE YOU?
5′ 4″

 

10. DO YOU GET CLAUSTROPHOBIC?
Yes, very easily, then I go into a full blown panic attack. It’s ugly…very, very ugly.

 

11. DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
No.

 

12. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
My sister.

 

13. WHAT’S YOUR WORST FEAR?
I don’t know…but that’s scary.

 

14. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Blonde hair, blue eyes…I should have moved to Sweden not Italy.

 

15. WHERE CAN YOU SEE YOURSELF BEING PROPOSED TO AT?
I really don’t see me ever being proposed to.

 

16. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINK?
Decaf coffee…the furthest thing from an energy drink. I love my coffee for the taste, not the kick.

 

17. FAVORITE PIZZA TOPPING?
OK, ham, artichoke hearts, and mushrooms.

 

18. IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
A Birthday Cake Carvelanche…no candy, extra cake mix, and not over mixed.

 

19. FAVORITE COLOR OF ALL TIME?
Black.

 

20. HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A GOLDFISH?
I barely eat real fish let alone goldfish.

 

21. WHAT WAS THE FIRST MEANINGFUL GIFT YOU’VE EVER RECEIVED?
Life.

 

22. DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH?
Does Lenny Kravitz count?

 

23. ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
No.

 

24. FAVORITE CLOTHING BRAND?
Ann Taylor…I like the classics.

 

25. WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE FEMALE/MALE CELEBRITY?
I really don’t know…

 

26. DO YOU HAVE A PET RIGHT NOW?
Yes.

 

27. WHAT KIND IS IT?
Two dogs and two cats. I am also getting a puppy in about a week and my cat is pregnant, again!

 

28. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
I would like to say no…but I guess anything is possible.

 

30. SAY A NUMBER FROM ONE TO A HUNDRED.
49

 

31. BLONDES OR BRUNETTES?
Blondes…didn’t we go over this?

 

32. FAVORITE QUOTE?
It’s never to late to be what you might have been. Don’t remember who said it.

 

33. FAVORITE PLACE?
Staniel Cay, Exumas.

 

34. HAVE YOU BEEN OUT OF THE USA?
Yes.

 

35. YOUR WEAKNESSES?
Where do I begin…

 

36. MET ANYONE FAMOUS?
Yes.

 

37. FIRST JOB?
Souvenir shop on the Atlantic City Boardwalk.

 

38. EVER DONE A PRANK CALL?
Yes…and I’m sorry.

 

39. DO YOU THINK EVERYONE OUT THERE HAS A SOUL MATE?
I think we all have people in our lives that are soul mates, usually more than one.

 

40. WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE YOU FILLED THIS OUT?
Baking pies to bring to the local nursing home for Carnivale.

 

41. HAVE YOU EVER HAD SURGERY?
More times than could ever imagine.

 

42. WHAT DO YOU GET COMPLIMENTED ABOUT MOST?
My infectious laugh.

 

43. HAVE YOU EVER HAD BRACES?
No.

 

44. WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY?
I want to travel to a place I’ve never been and celebrate another year of life.

 

45. HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT AND THEIR NAMES?
I don’t want to have kids.

 

46. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
I was named after my father.

 

47. WHAT IS THE BIGGEST TURN OFF OF THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Cheaters.

 

48. WHAT IS ONE THING YOU LIKED ABOUT HIGH SCHOOL?
Honestly? I was able to be out of my house for all those hours, 5 days a week and smoke lots of weed.

 

49. WHAT KIND OF SHAMPOO DO YOU USE?
Whatever smells the best.

 

50. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Yes.

 

51. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Ham.

 

52. ANY BAD HABITS?
I smoke…again!

 

53. ARE YOU A JEALOUS PERSON?
Sometimes…and I can admit that.

 

54. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Hell yes…I love a challenge.

 

55. DO YOU AGREE WITH FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS?
I think that it’s a great deal for men and for any women who can really separate sex and emotion…but how many of those women do you know?

 

56. DO LOOKS MATTER?
Yes.

 

57. HOW DO YOU RELEASE ANGER?
I don’t…that’s what the happy pills are for.

 

59. WHAT’S YOUR MAIN GOAL IN LIFE?
To always be a good person.

 

60. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD?
I loved my Barbie Camper.

 

61. HOW MANY NUMBERS ARE IN YOUR CELL PHONE?
I’ve never counted.

62. WERE YOU A FAN OF BARNEY AS A LITTLE KID?
Barney wasn’t around when I was a little kid.

 

63. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Do bears shit in the woods.

 

64. MASHED POTATOES OR MACARONI AND CHEESE?
Mac and cheese.

 

65. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
I’ve stopped looking.

 

66. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?
La GioFra, G, Jo, L’Americana, or America.

 

67. FAVORITE SUPER POWER?
Flying, without a doubt.

 

68. FAVORITE TV SHOW?
Boston Legal was great but LOST is my favorite.

 

69. WHAT’S THE BEST WAY TO DEAL WITH YOUR ENEMIES?
I don’t…

 

70. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
Nocciola

 

71. DO YOU HAVE ALL YOUR FINGERS AND TOES?
Although I am short on some organs, I do still have all of my fingers and toes.

 

72. DO YOU HAVE A COMPUTER IN YOUR ROOM?
I have a laptop…you never know where it might be.

 

73. PLANS FOR TONIGHT?
Sleep…it’s 1:30 am and those damn pies just got out of the oven.

 

74. WHERE DO YOU WANT TO LIVE WHEN YOU ARE OLDER?
In a 5 star Assisted Living Facility.

 

75. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
I am not tagging anyone on this…they don’t ever respond.

 

76. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO?
The TV.

 

77. LAST THING YOU DRANK?
Water.

 

78. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
I Skyped Elisa, my longtime friend from Ventnor…she’s in Alaska, I’m in Italy, and we spoke for over an hour. It was a great virtual get together.

 

79. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX?
I’m an ass and thighs girl.

 

80. WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME?
Travel, visit friends, blog, work on my house…

 

81. FAVORITE THING TO HATE?
I have no clue how to answer that question. Hate is hate, there are no favorites.

 

82. FAVORITE SEASONS OF THE YEAR?
Spring, Summer, and Fall.

 

83. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE TYPE OF CANDY?
Ferrero Roche Garden Collection.

 

84. HAVE YOU EVER REALLY AND TRULY HAD A BEST FRIEND?
I have lots of great friends, and lot’s of best friends.

 

85. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR?
Dark brown.

 

86. EYE COLOR?
Brown…contain your excitement please.

 

87. SHOE SIZE?
37

 

88. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?
Taco Bell

 

89. FAVORITE RESTAURANT?
I don’t really have just one…sorry.

 

90. DO YOU LIKE SUSHI?
Not into the sushi.

 

91. WATCH TV TODAY?
Grande Fratello.

 

92. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
Christmas.

 

93. PLAY ANY MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS?
No…Not musically talented.

 

94. REPUBLICAN OR DEMOCRAT?
Democrat.

 

95. KISSES OR HUGS?
I love kissing…and I love hugging…can’t I have it all?

 

96. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS?
Whatever I’m feeling at the moment.

 

97. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU BOUGHT?
350 liters of GPL.

 

98. WOULD YOU EVER BE A HOUSEWIFE?
Not in this lifetime.

 

99. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
Running With Scissors.

 

100. DESCRIBE YOUR LOVE LIFE:
Non existent.

I opened up my Facebook account before moving to Italy in July 2007 but I never spent much time keeping up with it until now.  It seems as though something happened over the past year and a half and the secret is out, now everyone and their mother is using Facebook to stay in touch.  Of course I didn’t know this until I logged on over the holidays to find ’friend requests’ from people I hadn’t seen since elementary school.  I have since found fellow bloggers, ex co-workers, and former classmates.  Although I’m happy to have reconnected with everyone I have to admit that my high school classmates make me the happiest, especially since my chances of ever attending a high school reunion were slim to none.  That’s what happens when you drop out of school. 

 

I would have been the Atlantic City High School Class of 1986 but I was not exactly a model student.  I started out at Holy Spirit High School in Absecon, NJ.  I completed freshman year successfully, well maybe not successfully but I did pass.  Sophomore year was another story.  I could have probably gotten by had it not been for that damn snow.  It was shortly after the Christmas break when the snow fell unexpectedly and while most schools were calling a ’snow day’, mine was calling a ‘late day’.  So being that my friends and I were already up we figured it would be a fine time to have a party.  Why not, we thought, we had five hours to kill before the bus would come, what else could we have possibly done?  We decided the festivities would take place at my friend DeeDee’s house.  We knew no one would be there, plus her parents had the most well stocked bar.  Out came the schnapps and the brandy, with beer chasers of course.  It was a blast, really, until hours later when we arrived at school and got busted. 

 

I don’t really recall how the whole scene went down but I do vividly remember sitting in the Dean of Disciplines office.  Her name was Mrs. Higsbee, and I despised her.  As she lectured me for what seemed to be hours I started to feel a little queasy.  That’s when I decided to act as if was truly sorry for what I had done by giving her a great big hug…and puking all over her.  She was fit to be tied, and I, feeling completely satisfied having left my mark both literally and figuratively, was ready for a nap.  I slept it off in the nurses office and woke up to find that I was scheduled to appear in front of the Discipline Committee with at least one parent in tow, but not until after my three day suspension.  The day came for my big hearing and I stood before the board with Mrs. Higsbee charging the way.  Final verdict:  six 3 hour Saturday detentions.  I served my time proudly and when Easter break came I transferred to Atlantic City High School.

 

I had a fresh start and life was pretty good.  I didn’t have to wear those horrible uniforms or sit through another Human Sexuality class taught by a priest…what more could a girl ask for?  Well the answer to that question became clear a soon as I started back at school.  Atlantic City High School was situated two blocks from the ocean and one block from the bay.  It was a water lovers dream.  I think I attended classes for a couple of weeks but I’m not really sure, the water was distracting me.  I ended up spending my days at the ocean or the bay with those who shared my passion for partying.  For some reason I managed to remain a registered student without ever showing up for classes.  That lasted for over a year until showed up in the Principal’s office one day looking to guarantee a place in the graduating class of 1986.  What I actually did was blow any chance I may have had to graduate and dropped out. 

 

In 1985 I moved to Florida and ended up getting my GED.  Another memorable day.  It was me and 13 other people, all men donning orange jumpsuits and shackles…the Class of 1986. 

 

   

Now I know that I’ve asked for you all to tag for memes, and many of you kindly responded appropriately, and I, rudely, never followed through with doing any of them.  Well, today I got hit by the karma train.  You see, I have been spending a lot of time on Facebook lately, and I never imagined that a meme would come my way.  I actually thought Facebook was a meme free zone…well it’s not!!!  Imagine my surprise today when I got tagged to do a meme.  I wasn’t overjoyed but I did follow through, so I am going to share it all with you.   Now I won’t tag anyone but I have left the rules just in case the spirit moves you.  Oh, and if the spirit does move you please let me know via a comment or a link.

 

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 16 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 16 people to be tagged. Be sure to tag the person who tagged you (as your 16th or an extra). If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you.

 

1. I can hang a spoon on my nose.
2. My nose is real.
3. I hate beans…except for string beans.
4. I used to want to be a mom.
5. I like visiting the cemetery.
6. I had to use spellcheck for the word cemetery.
7. I never saw the movies E.T. or Bambi.
8. I think #8 should count as two answers…and now it does.
9. I think 9 1/2 Weeks was one of the sexiest movies ever made.
10. I think the movie Hannibal was a love story. Let’s face it, Hannibal could have easily eaten Clarice. Instead, he let her go free…now that’s love.
11. I know that #’s 9 & 10 are twisted ideas and I am OK with that.
12. I want a cow…black and white.
13. I also want a pig…a little one.
14. I hosted an American Thanksgiving in Italy for 40 people and couldn’t explain what the significance of Thanksgiving is (sad…I know).
15. I don’t think that Italy should be a thinner country than America. These people are carbaholics…where is the fairness in that?
16. I blog, or at least I try to, and I’ve actually asked to be tagged for inspirational purposes. Now I will never make such a request again.

I don’t know why I can’t find the words…I certainly have the thoughts.  Constantly repeating thoughts, racing around my brain as if I were bi-polar.  And just so you know, I am not bi-polar.  I am actually disthymic…but that’s another post.  Anyway, I just can’t seem to sit down and get the thoughts out of my head and onto paper, or in this case, into cyberspace.  What’s wrong with me?  Last year, when I began blogging, I couldn’t stop writing.  I would wake up in the middle of the night just to post some thoughts.  Now it all feels so forced.  It’s crazy…and the fact that I’m blogging about my inability to blog is even crazier.  Maybe I’ve become too comfortable with life, or maybe, life has become too uncomfortable.  Either way,  the world goes round, and my life continues to happen.  And, despite all of the insanity I can say I am grateful for every crazy second of crazy every day.    

…a thousand words.  Since I know damn well that I could never focus long enough to write a thousand words about me in a meme, I thought this would be perfect.  I saw this over at Dove Mi Porta Il Cuore and thought it was pure genius…and fun too!    

 

Get the picture?

 Now you know you want to do this, so here are the rules:

a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd’s mosaic maker.

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name.

1. Carpe Diem  2. Still Life  3. Atlantic City High School Snapshot   4. Pink Gadgets  5. Lenny Kravitz             6. Water is Life  7. Moorea  8. Red Velvet Cake at CPK  9. Calm, Cool, & Collected  10. Surfers Nostalgia Blue  11. Complicated  12. Bon Voyage to all of Our Crap

One of my biggest concerns when I moved to Italy was my health care… in fact, it was a lot of people’s concerns.   Despite this, I forged ahead and did what I never imagined I would do…I left security of my existing network of family, friends, and physicians.  I know that most people my age don’t have to worry about health issues until much later in life.  I’m not one of those people.  I had to do a lot of research to be sure that my needs could be met, and I was scared to death.  What made it all even more difficult was that I was having one of the ’unhealthiest’ years of my life, but maybe that’s where my strength came from.  Whenever I questioned myself as to why I was making such a major life change my only thought was, “if not now, when?”

I always believed that we are guaranteed very little in life, and some are guaranteed even less.  There have been many times in my life when I didn’t know which applied to me, but as I grew older, it all became a little clearer.  You see, when I was nine months old, I was diagnosed with a genetic blood disorder known as Beta Thalassemia.  The day that diagnosis was confirmed my parents were told that it would be a miracle if I lived to be twenty years old.  Since diagnosis I have been transfusion dependent and have been receiving red cell transfusions every three weeks.  One of the most significant side effects of these blood transfusions is iron overload which has led to further health issues.  When I was 11 years old I had to have my spleen removed which has left me immuno-compromised.  When I was 19 years old I began to develop recurring Pericarditis which led to another surgery at the age of 23, a procedure called a Pericardial Window.   In between, I developed gall stones and had to have my gall bladder removed, and I have had several ports implanted because my veins are shot, and I’ve had those same ports removed when my body decide to reject them by becomming infected.   Overall, I have spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals.  Sometimes the reasons behind the hospitalizations were clear, sometimes they were just medical mysteries, either way, they were always traced back to being a Thalassemic.  

As I have gotten older, Thalassemia continues to influence my day to day health, both physically and emotionally.  My organs become more damaged with each transfusion I receive, and I have Osteoporosis, Arthritis, and Fibromyalgia.  There are days were I have no mental clarity due to my bodies inability to process toxins efficiently.  Emotionally I have very little range, making me feel very one dimensional.  I am aware of the medications that exist for most of these problems and have tried them all.  When I feel like the benefits outweigh the costs I stick with them, the rest I leave behind.

“Woe is me” is not what I am putting out there, that is not to say that I don’t feel that way sometimes, it’s just not where I’m at at this point in my life.  I mean seriously, what’s a girl to do, this is my life and it really could be much worse…I mean, really!   So maybe that is the most important gift that Thalassemia has given me…the ability to be grateful. 

By the way, I have just celebrated my 40th birthday…who’d of thunk it!!!

 

 

 

During my adolescence and teenage years, I had a tendency to be a bit of a mean girl, and my number 1 target was cheerleaders. I didn’t understand the whole school spirit, rah, rah, rah type of thing. I saw them as a bunch of fake, “goody goodies”, and I was nauseated by the sight of them. They just weren’t my type of people, you know, the hard core, angry, “what the fuck are you looking at?” type of people. No, I thought of them as the “stupid happy” type of people. Anyway, I was their polar opposite. I hated school, had no spirit, and certainly wasn’t a “goody goody”.

 

Many years have past since those days in school, and I’d like to think that no one is too scarred by my misdirected angst. I know that I came away from it virtually unscathed, or so I thought.

 

Then I met my Karma.

 

She is my oldest niece and Godchild, and her name is Paulina. She is beautiful, intelligent, insightful, humorous, full of    spirit, and she is a cheerleader. Paulina is my Karma. She is comprised of many of the characteristics that I ridiculed back in school. Yet, she is not fake, or one of those “stupid happy” girls. She simply loves her high school and is full of school spirit. She has been cheering since her Freshman year and is now on Varsity as a senior. She goes to Cheer Camp every year and she even believes in “the curse of the Spirit Stick”. Despite all of her cheerleader ways, I love her.

 

Looking into Paulina’s eyes I see reflections of who I used to be long, long ago, and I have forgiven that girl. Paulina has made that possible for me. She has been a great source for my learning and growing. I feel as though I am becoming a better person every day because of the relationship she and I have. It’s not always great, we do have our differences, and our relationship can run hot and cold from one minute to the next. She’s kind of like the little sister I never had. I know the boundaries have been blurred and that’s not a good thing, but I truly believe that every moment of our relationship has led us to this point. I know it has made me a better person. It has made me want to right the wrongs of my past. As for Paulina, only time will tell. For now, I see her coming into her own, and learning to handle what life throws her way.

With Much Love,
Auntie G

I’ve come a long way from that bitter little girl in Atlantic City, New Jersey. At least, in terms of accepting the things I allowed to isolate me as a kid. My immigrant parents, my name, and my “sickness”. It wasn’t that I just woke up one day and decided that life was cool and I was OK with everything that normally ticked me off. It was a process and it all started with Giovanna.

After years of being called JoAnn, a name I also came to despise, I had left New Jersey and moved down to South Florida. This was my opportunity to try on my old name and see if it fit me a little better now that I had grown up. So in my new surroundings, I embraced my old name. I became a person who hadn’t existed since birth. I became Giovanna. It was a pretty easy transition for the most part. No one knew me in Florida so I just automatically introduced myself to everyone I met as Giovanna. The only people who really ever had a hard time with using my legal name were my parents and my brother. They were so used to me being JoAnn that Giovanna just didn’t flow for them. It’s now 20 plus years later and my parents are finally comfortable with calling me Giovanna. My brother is going to be much more difficult to break.
When it comes down to it, the most important thing is that I embraced Giovanna. I fell in love with the beauty of its sound, and am most grateful to my father who wanted to share his name with me, his little girl.

As you see, this journey of self discovery and self acceptance started when I was a teenager. There were, however, two more aspects of my kid years that sill haunted me deep within the core of my being. The immigrant parents, and the “sickness”. The shame of my parents was harder for me to understand and justify the older I became. Then I went to University…things became much clearer for me there.

It was in my required Institutional Racism class that I began to learn about the difficulties that immigrants encountered when coming to this country. I remember feeling angry that I would be taking a class that was all about the black/white issues. Considering I was stuck there I tried to get the most out of it. I ended up so grateful to the Professor and to the Dean who mandated the course because it allowed me to see what the motivating factors were for my parents when they immigrated to this country. The real eye opener for me was even better than that. I finally understood why my parents wanted us kids to be Americans. I learned why I wasn’t made to speak Italian in the home even though my parents did. I finally saw that my parents were doing that to protect their kids from ridicule. I learned that the Italian immigrants were not very high up at all on the Hierarchy. In fact, Italian immigrants were on one of the bottom three rungs of the latter.

From that moment in life I never again felt ashamed for who my parents were, or from where they came. I have nothing but love, honor, and respect for what they endured coming to this country to make a better life for their children. My parents are strong warriors. They faced their battles with discrimination and held their heads high. Never did they consider returning to Italy, to what was familiar, and safe for them. No, they were not cowards, they were hero’s.

Through these years of enlightenment I was finally ready to address my personal demons. I was done being the “sick” one. The lies got old and the stories were no longer necessary, at least not for me. I had a name and I loved it, and it was not Giovanna “the sick one”. No, I am Giovanna, the girl with Thalassemia. I am the girl with Thalassemia whose mother didn’t speak English yet she managed to get her little girl with Thalassemia to Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia every two weeks. It would take a bus, and taxi, and a short walk to get there. My mother who didn’t speak English did her best with me at her side getting me the best care possible to treat my Thalassemia. As I grew older, my mother’s English improved, and the trips to Philadelphia became old hat. It was our time together…it’s just what we had to do.

It’s been 38 years since I was diagnosed with Thalassemia and I still go to the hospital for blood transfusions every 4 weeks. Sometimes, if my mom is here visiting I’ll ask her to come, and she doesn’t hesitate to say yes. It’s still our time.

I am proud of the person I am today, and can not wait to see what all of my tomorrows will bring, but I am well aware that none of this could have happened without the parents, family, and friends that I have.

Much Love

When I was growing up I always felt very different than the other kids around me. I was ashamed of my parents because they were immigrants, I hated the fact that my name was Giovanna, and I was “sick”. I was a nasty little girl with moods that ran hot and cold. I remember being very hateful and angry most of the time…actually, I was one miserable, bitch of a kid. Had someone said this back then I would have, without a doubt, responded with my classic “I hate you, I wish you were dead!”

I can’t really pinpoint one life event that lead to my constant spew of venom. I know that I was embarrassed by my parents. They weren’t exactly June and Ward Cleaver. I saw them more as the Munsters, although I don’t really recall Eddie ever being that bitter. The funny thing is when I think back on it, I don’t even know why I felt like that at all, I mean, I grew up in a neighborhood called Duck Town, where everyone in a seven block radius was an Italian immigrant. So, when I say we blended, we blended.

OK, maybe not me, I didn’t feel very blended, especially not when it came to my name. How could I blend with a name like Giovanna Pasquarelli? Who does that to a kid? I thought it was cruel and unkind, and I was always so nervous when the teacher would go through the roster the first day of school…every single year…for 13 years!!! As soon as the teacher or nun would get close to calling the last names starting with P, I was prepared to belt out “Just call me JoAnn“, and it would be in the pissiest tone. Needless to say, there were a few giggles here and there, but I would just shoot them a look that silenced them. Of course I never ever got called on my attitude at school because the teachers and nuns all knew me. I was the daughter of John and Sara, the sister of Len and Angela, and most importantly, “the sick one”.

Maybe being “the sick one” is what molded me into that bitter kid. It definitely didn’t help my attempts at blending. I missed a lot of school, spent long days in the hospital, and was even rumored to be dead on more than one occasion. Now I have to admit, as much as that fueled my feelings of being the oddball, I rather enjoyed the time I answered the phone and it was my teacher calling to offer her condolences. She just went right into her “I’m so sorry for your loss, we are all just so shocked, JoAnn’s friends are so sad, they can’t believe she’s dead…blah, blah, blah” and I cut her off with “What are you talking about? This is JoAnn!” That shut her up real quick. Then I gave the phone to my mom because by this point in her life she was well acclimated to her new country, and she just went “JERSEY” on that teacher’s ass.

Being “sick” entailed a lot. From what I’m told, I think I may have been spared some of the worse parts of it because I got “sick” at the age of nine months old. So luckily, I just remember from about age 5 and on. I remember having to take the bus to Phila with my mom every three weeks so that I could go to the hospital. We would arrive at Children’s Hospital at 8 am and never got out of there before 5 or 6 pm. Then we took the bus back to Atlantic City. They were long days, and I was always miserable on those rides home. I hated the questions. “Are you OK?” “Are you tired?” “Do you feel sick?” “Are you having a reaction?” My answer was always the same. NO, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!

So I guess that is where it all began, the birth of my misery. I didn’t really ever want to talk to people about what being “sick” meant to me, or how it made me feel. I chose to keep that bottled up inside me.

But that was then…