Friday, January 29, 2010

Kathie Lee Gifford And Dieting

A Delicious Family - Through Her Eyes

The story of my family is very complicated. My mother, Christine, lived for almost his entire life without parents, perhaps this is what caused her to miss so many things, both in their youth, that in family life. Or at least that's what I like to think when I look at the consequences of his mistakes.

not to say that it's all his fault if our family is so entangled, and this is also due mainly to the people who were close and that, with their choices, have made the joys and failures. Yet she is still the parent, the pillar of our family and she, with that aspect so strange, or simply different from that of their parents, so that we could think of an adoption, an exchange of children, or But who knows what ...

we'll never know, we know only that my mother is the true foundress, the roots of our great and beautiful family, the source of those wonderful eyes that distinguish our lineage, decreed that often true, or true heir.

But maybe now you will be curious to see her look and know its history, so you can decide if what I said is true or false. Here it is, in all its splendor of youth, when his life was still a glimmer of normalcy ... Before that somebody up there to take its destiny in hand and decide its own path and to all of us ...
;



Délice My name is Valerie, and for a while ' I have the pleasure to entertain you by telling the life of my mother, my brothers, grandchildren, and if you do not mind, even a bit 'of mine. Delice, which means delicious, is the surname of my mother, the second thing she has left us, more or less directly. The first are some of his traits. But let's start from the beginning, I have the bad habit of the elderly to go up and down the stories without telling anything, just making a big mess.



Délice Maurice and Marina were two very extroverted and exuberant; They loved to madness, but even more they loved themselves and the adventures that tried together in every corner of the world, leaving his daughter in the hands of the first person that happened, and, fortunately, often the first person named Violetta.



Violetta was a person in a way, kind, sometimes shy, even though, according to some, even a great amateur. But what could the better deal was Christine, for which he was, from an early age, a reference point, an example of life: he had a successful career and love life adventure, dressed with great elegance (thanks, perhaps, the origins of the Franco-Italian) and appeared to be satisfied with everything he had in life. But my mother did not know what gave more joy to his aunt, was her daughter, who was unable to have.



Violetta was very beautiful, perhaps more than the Navy, his sister, with whom he shared his blond hair and blue eyes, to separate the two opposing characters and temperaments. Well, besides my grandfather, Viola did not agree with the preference of his sister in men ... Of course, she did not was a true example of a love life quiet and secure, but the partners had had, which were for one month, one year or one night, she had chosen with care, she had always known enough before, and none of these was reckless, petulant and unpredictable as Maurice.

Yes, think about it, I believe that my mother was a blessing to grow up without parents nearby, and that the real tragedy was that their final parting came too soon: my grandparents had a car accident when my mother was fourteen during one of their adventure trips, or at least, that the said Aunt Viola ... The fact is that they died in a fire in their car, and so Christine could only cry on the urn containing their ashes, and finally in the arms of Violetta.



Oh, but that careless! See? At a certain age, you forget everything, even what is said a moment ago! I promised to tell you the appearance of my mother ... Well, she was very different from his parents or his aunt, all three had a medium-dark skin, the two sisters had, as I said, blue eyes and hair blond. The father, however, blacks had the hair and eyes dark blue.



In all this, and with my full assurance that all, in the two families, had more or less the same genetic traits, you can verify that it is strange that my mother had brown hair , milky skin and



magnificent violet eyes.

Needless to say, the news of his death, he destroyed my mother ... She, who for years had hoped for a rapprochement, the birth of that relationship, between parents and children, it is usually natural and automatic, affection maternal and paternal who had never had, if not by his aunt, was left with nothing. Nothing, empty into the heart, emptied of all their dreams ... because for her, who had no passion or great friends, who did not care to be successful or become famous, the only important thing was to have a family.

One of the real ones, where on Christmas day we woke early and ran all around the tree, opening gifts that the parents had gone to buy specifically for that morning, and not in front of which was passed by the event maybe in August, and were shipped by international mail, badly wrapped in a piece of cardboard which had been hidden and packaged by a third person who would have lied and concealed them until December 25 ...

now, any chance was gone forever. Any chance to come back happy, she was gone ...

But, you know, you have to fourteen years is not an exact concept of "forever", was in the middle of adolescence, an age when everything is magnified and heard so many times stronger than it really is, and so, eventually, all the sorrows are relegated to a state of "is too strong for me to overcome it, but tomorrow is another day and not think about it anymore. "

course, the loss of parents is not something that can be taken lightly, but Christine did not know them for practically nothing, they were strangers whom he had fantasized about in many sleepless nights, and who did not care more than as imports dell'affascinante neighbor ...

So, after Aunt Viola worried to death by burning food in the oven



(Something that almost never happened to Christine not having a great passion for all that concerned the art of cooking), and have spent twenty hours a day in bed for about three weeks, my mother went back to their daily chores with a new determination and a dream: to conquer the beautiful brown boy in the house 83.

But Christine she was shy, never had the courage to ask out a guy, so he invented study sessions at his house, taking advantage of the fact that the boy in question was not really a genius at school.



But if at first things seemed to go well, he soon realized my mother not to care the least: the discourses on which they got along were few, the many discussions and, finally, it seemed that he did not consider as a woman, preferring to Aunt Viola adoring glances or fiddle - wasting time and also to study Christine - with friends who will inevitably bring with them.



odd man out: I tell you that game is very strong! You are a thief, and you ...

Boy: Come on, those games I just do not like them, I prefer ...

Christine I know that even today we do not combine anything ...



Christine But what's wrong with me? Why not even look at me? I am hours (well, more or less ...) to make me beautiful, I can tell everything about what people like him, I even began to feel that shitty music you hear him, and for what? To see it all the time chatting with others?



Christine: Why not want to be with meeeeeee?? ç_ç




And so, for how much they tried, could not make inroads in the heart of the young, and always remaining a step back from happiness. Seeing

always sad and downcast, noting the few odd friends who were doing




(as, for example, a penguin in the middle of summer ...>.>) And

habit to spend most of the time divided between the study and kitchen,


Violetta began to worry about this situation. First came the usual questions ...


Violetta: So how's school?

Christine is studied, as usual ... Tomorrow I have a task of geography.

Violetta: I see ... And ... The friendships? You've made?

Christine Zia, I'm in the same from elementary school, it is natural that I have made friends ...

Violetta: Ah, right ... And ... Even those of yesterday were your friends?


Christine Well, my name is Sana and I have a habit of bringing home the first people I meet on the street, so ... Yes, they were my classmates. We had to study algebra.


Violet: I know you're not Sana, in mathematics you're all right!

... then saw that he could not get away from a spider hole (and how could that way ???), made the wise decision to take her out on Friday and Saturday nights, so that he could know someone outside the school ball.

However, the runs usually attended her were not the most suitable for a girl of fifteen years: he could go bowling, maybe we could have some fun ',


but around the premises, that just was not ideal. In fact, say well that was dangerous: boredom and embarrassment led her to drink a little 'too much to drink those taken while the aunt was busy doing something else,


"other & rdquo , which could take much to give up completely on its own niece (even though we had to somehow look like the two sisters) for whole half an hour ...


... and the results at the end of the evening, you saw ...


I think my mother has never recovered from that night ... I hate all my life karaoke, refused to sing even during their marriage. What a shame ... He had a really great voice.


--- Dialogue nonsense hangover ---


Christine I saw you with that guy just now! He is a lawyer? No, because if a lawyer is worth you marry him, who knows how much he earns!


Violet: You rather, why do not you marry a plumber? We broke the bathtub.


Christine I'm going to bed.


--- End ---


However, his aunt realized that maybe this was not the way ... So he began to bring in more stress on the classmates, the partying and things like that, certainly more suited to a teenager, but not to my mother, who hated being in a room with more than three people. Funny how you can change radically when we build a family ... But we are still at the beginning of my story, and I anticipated a lot more than I wanted.


Christine finally decided to come to an agreement: she would have started attending the club's kitchen, like Viola had suggested in the past, if the other had ceased to oppress with all those speeches about making friends. Needless to say the aunt was thrilled and proud of himself same, I think I did well. It is perhaps even more needless to say could not be more wrong.




--- To be continued ---

So ... This is the first "legacy", so to speak, to play with and that story, so I apologize if it might be trivial and / or boring. I hope someone will like and that I follow in the coming updates, who'll tell you, I do not know how frequent they are, because they are burdened study.

A kiss and the next. ^ X ^

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