So Maybe....

Maybe I’m so in love with the wood-floored, granite-counter-topped, travertine-tiled home I’ve moved into, that I secretly hope a tornado picks it up and drops it in suburban New York so I never have to move again… or maybe Connecticut.

So maybe my kitten peed in my sister’s suitcase full of clothes and I thought it was funny. Maybe.

So maybe I lie frequently, like maybe that time when I said I didn’t want anything for my birthday.

So maybe watching the Deal or No Deal contestant reunite with his parents after 3 years of geographic separation on live television made me cry. (you would too, maybe…)

And maybe despite what most people think, I am right 99% of the time.

Maybe I can’t wait to strap on my new boots, new skis and new ski coat and ski in all this new powder.

Maybe I’ve been to Italy, France, Belgium, Austria, Switzerland and England on 2 separate occasions in the past year and I’m ready to go back again. Devo practicare il mio italiano.

And MAYBE I regret some things that I do....

Dear Illogical Irrational and Obstinate Girl who Ignores the Counsel of Friends Who Know Better,

So maybe I need to adhere to the advice of my favorite friend Kimmy.

(that's her below. sometimes she's surprised at the silly things i do...)



And maybe I could write an entire entry about her and the ways she’s helped me to become a better person - (like be more patient and understanding and supportive and optimistic and giving and kind and lots of other things that she is) - that’s not what this one’s about. Kimbers is my Jiminy Cricket- but not in the form of a conscience, rather a logical presence. I’m compelled to confess that despite the fact I pride myself on being practical, methodical and logical I have moments of EXTREME temporary insanity.

My sisters and I are pretty sure it comes from the Italian side- so maybe the time when 2 Nicolai brothers killed a man in their small Italian town over a “dispute of virtue” in regards to their sister. He kissed and told, except he and she did more than kiss, and this Nicolai sister’s reputation was ruined… so maybe a logical resolution was to kill the kiss-and-teller.

Or maybe when my great great grandfather drowned trying to flood the vineyards of the neighbor he was feuding with.

Or maybe when Uncle Rocco lit the 400 year-old Nicolai home on fire with gypsies in it, because he had warned them to get out.

***For the record, I’m not malicious, just have streaks of poor judgment.***

So maybe one time in preparation for a toga party, I went to the fabric store and spent $50 on satin and patterns so I could sew a KILLER toga to impress a plebeian boy I was interested in, maybe. (No pun intended in using the word plebeian derived from ancient Rome in reference to a toga party attendee… I’m just clever) Maybe I only had 2 hours before the party and I called Kimbers in an emergency- she told me to abort and we’d figure something else out maybe I didn’t listen. Maybe she arrived to find me in a pile of expensive satin cut into pieces and tears.

Or maybe like the time Kimmy told me not to dye my hair black one late evening in a freshman dormitory, and I didn’t listen. Maybe when I returned to NY for the summer, I was spoken to in Spanish for 12 weeks.

So maybe yesterday a similar situation came up and I sent Kimbers an emergency email. In her infinite wisdom she wrote back and her advice did not have any maybes in it…
“Noelle… DON’T. This is nothing but TROUBLE. Forget about it…”

AND MAYBE I DIDN’T LISTEN and maybe it resulted in a semi-breakdown at 6pm last night. So maybe- scratch that- Actually, I’m getting tired of not listening to Kimmy’s great advice and later regreting the irrational, illogical and obstinate girl that I am. So maybe, I'll change and become a level-headed, even-tempered, thinker througher. Maybe not. I'll let you know.