Why I love women (and being one)

I was doing some stretches today at the Y in the little hallway with the exercise mats and such, where pretty much everyone goes to stretch (and some people make really weird noises when doing so, thus making me feel sort of uncomfortable as it is such a small space, after all) and I noticed two middle-aged women, decked out in really comfortable-looking exercise clothes - cute, fitted (but not too tight to be considered over the top) running pants and tank tops - and they were doing what looked like yoga moves, you know, really breathing and getting in touch with their bodies, while at the same time having this incredibly meaningful conversation about how hard it is when one someone dies, and how helpful bereavement groups can be, and how you really need a support system, etc. I got the feeling that one woman's husband had just lost a parent, and they were having this deep heart to heart about it, talking in low, soothing voices, and when one got up to leave I heard her say to her friend "If you need anything - anything - don't hesitate to call." Having lost that conversation to listen in on, I checked out the rest of the crew to see if anyone was doing anything noteworthy, and noticed, over on the other side of the hall, on his back, an older gentleman, who had, in what I'm sure he deemed an absolutle stroke of genius, removed his leather belt from his pants and was using it to lasso and pull his extended legs back towards his body to attain the ultimate stretch.

We met Fabio and that's why, to this day, many women are jealous of us

I logged into my MySpace account today (because yeah, I'm 29 and have a MySpace account) to find that Jennifer has posted a picture on my page. But not just any picture. This picture:

I know, I know, so many questions. Like, What is going on here? How did two awkward teens score a photo with such a sexy beast? And whose hair is more awesome, Cara's or Fabio's? (I think I win).

The simple answer is that back in day day my father was director of the National Italian American Foundation and their major fundraiser was an annual dinner held in D.C. Many Italian American celebrities and politicians attended over the years and I got to meet a lot of them, since my dad was in with the security guys. I met people like Perry Como and Debbie Gibson (that's right, she's Italian American) and Jon Bon Jovi - and if you think this picture with Fabio is a rather embarassing relic of my adolescent years, you should see the picture I have of me and Bon Jovi. Jesus Christ. Luckily for me, I'm not going to show it to you.

Jennifer and I attended a few of these and had many adventures, that got more age-appropriate over the years. For instance, when we were 14 or so, like in the picture above, we tried to score as many autographs as possible. We once, out of sheer good fortune (and because we were smaller than regular sized adults and could push our way in) rode the elevator with Danny DeVito, Rhea Perlman and Dom DeLuise.

When we were a little older, we waited until everyone had left the banquet room, then went from table to table taking the mini bottles of Sambuca and other goody bag loot attendees had left behind.

Meeting Fabio, though, is probably the best story I got out of all the dinners I attended. And judging from the look on his face, it was one of the best moments of his life, too.