I wear a lot of different hats in my day-to-day life... happy wife, stay-at-home mom, daughter, friend, writer, and more.

I am Italian (which I'm sure you already figured out from the blonde hair and blue eyes....), and my dad is the quintessential Brooklyn-raised, wise guy / tough-guy, ego-infested, gold-chain-wearing, slick black-haired "GUIDO." My parents are still married, and they've been together for 47 years, (and my mom still hasn't been committed or even had an official nervous breakdown - God bless her!).

Must admit I am one of many egomaniacs with an inferiority complex, although my authentic love of self increases more every day. I am beyond OVERLY sensitive, as well as vocal about what I think, feel, and believe, which means I have no problem telling you if your behavior is affecting my spirit. My sense of humor is crude (and occasionally borderline obscene and colored with a healthy dose of profanity), but my days of not having a conscience are over. I have many passions...my family, friends, writing, cooking, gardening, improving myself, laughing, and making people laugh. I know how to be a friend today, and I would do almost anything for anyone, (within reason), and without compromising my values.

I love solitude and silence (almost too much sometimes), and I consider myself a closet, undercover introvert, although my cover is pretty much blown. My downfalls are a really bad memory, caring too much, little acceptance with getting older, compulsive closet chainsmoking, procrastination, an embarrassing overuse of the word "dude," not answering the phone, and lack of acceptance for my mistakes.

I believe in second chances, but not third chances. I have little tolerance for obnoxious sloppy drunks, parents who hit their children as a means of discipline, bad grammar, and society's increasing quest for material possessions. My feet are big, I cry during sad commercials, my dad taught me how to box when I was 9, and I don't like to wash my hair. I used to carry a concealed weapon (a 380 with a permit - yes, they gave ME a gun! Muahhahahaha!), but realized it's in society's best interest that I sell it. I talk to my parents at least 5 times a day, I am hypermetabolic, I no longer wear fur (nor do I believe anyone should), and I am ridiculously empathetic, as well as idiosyncratic.

I am a loyal, faithful wife, and I can't dance at all but I do it anyway (and I don't care if you laugh). I believe I'm unique in many ways but just like everyone else in others. I sweat like a grown man, I'd cut off at least 3 toes in exchange for a lifetime supply of either daily hour-long massages from my husband or Tagalong Girl Scout cookies. Although I live in the epitome of stereotypical suburbia, I don't believe in trying to keep up with the Joneses. Yuck. Just yuck. Yes, I like nice things but there IS a difference.

I'm insanely self-centered, yet extremely giving - figure that one out - lol. I believe the way I act tells much more about me than what I say, and I agree that "our true character is what we do when we think no one is watching." I'd say I'm utterly exhausted, but fortunately recovering from the wild, single, obnoxious life I lived prior to September of 2003, so I have little energy (and no desire) to participate in insanity and/or chaos. I am a recovering drama queen and I also have "brain issues," as I like to call them, which entail thinking too much, over-analyzing, self-imposed anxiety, second-guessing myself, a hint of ADD and OCD, and several lovely DSM-IV diagnoses, which are under control, thanks to the magnificent world of SSRIs (Lexapro, anyone?).

I am who I am, and I make no excuses for it. If you don't like me, please just go away and leave me alone. Life is WAY too short to be so serious. You might be surprised to know that I used to be obsessed with illegal drag racing and I am currently obsessed with Botox and photoshop. I also hold the record (since 1992) for the most live goldfish eaten by a girl at Sigma Chi fraternity - 36 of them - and I barfed sparkles from their fins for days. I dislike cell phones, talking on the phone, as well as being interrogated about my disdain toward meaningless BS phone conversations. I also have little to no tolerance for phone-a-holics who talk on their phone while eating in restaurants and walking around grocery stores, but I really have trouble understanding people who need to have their phone attached to their hip 24/7 with some strange clip device. My husband "wears" his phone like this, and I fantasize often about breaking his clip in half.

On a professional level, I used to be all over the place. My Masters is in Education, so I taught English for years and it was wonderful. My personified strong propensity for correct grammatical communication loved that job! But that's all it was...a job. Teaching at other levels was fun too (Elementary, Middle School and High School), but at the end of the day, I want to enjoy the time I have with my own children, not suffer from exhaustion brought on by other people's kids. I used to write the news for a local NBC affiliate, I worked as therapeutic staff support in a psychiatric hospital for children and adolescents (never again...too sad), I've done sales, web design, and I used to own my own clothing boutique (complete with buying trips to Manhattan which included tons of Yankees games and stalking Jeter. SO fun!).

No matter what I ever did, however, I always seemed to return to writing, my true passion. I've decided to stop fighting the inevitable ebb and flow of my life and have accepted I am a writer. Currently I am in the process of writing my first novel, and it's coming along slowly, but surely!

My passion is ...

life, love, and the pursuit of 8 hours of sleep

Health & Fitness > Addiction Gambling: Abuse and addiction

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Wearing rundown poker faces with bloodshot eyes, gambling addicts typically check-raise their way through most weekday evenings (and certainly every weekend night), sitting on hard, bad-for-your-back chairs, in a refurbished crack house, playing Texas Hold Em. With a thick cloud of smoke swirling above their heads, they bluff, limp, and muck into the wee hours of the morning because they don't have to wake up for their day job, because gambling is their day job, they proudly profess.

Many of these fanatics carry their gear with them. And no, that's not a gun case in most of their backs...

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