found treasure and the chain of connection

to my one and only DEAR MOM (unless there's a secret explanation for why you're so tall and i can't reach a can of beans without a step-ladder),

i present... a little treasure i found at the flea market! (stop making that face.)

i'll be wearing it... often.

it is a tiny address book that i put on a chain. it's at least fifty years old and traveled all the way from Argentina before finding its way to me!

inside, there are little tiny pages to keep track of your loved ones.

and who's my first entry?! why who else....

nombre, nom, name: i keep track of you in multiple languages.

since it's about an inch big, i had to write really, really small to get the information down... in fact, i might have to buy a tiny pencil to note those who are NOT you.

and before you get started on the folly of this finding, my dear friend alicia sully used to walk around with mini-pages of notes clipped to her belt loops on binder rings -- and that seemed to work out just fine for her.

and on that little note...

 M oh M!

with love and cramped fingers,

g

the art of shampooing without shampoo

dear mom,

in this loving post from October (which you read last week because you 'forgot' about my BLOG of which you are only the very NAMESAKE but no hard feelings), i alerted you that i'd be transitioning to a shampoo-free haircare method. five months have since passed. so six months from now, you'll definitely be wondering: how in heaven did gina's bizarre hair experiment turn out?

(i like to plan ahead.)

initially, i decided to use the baking soda wash method, which goes something like this:

1. put a tablespoon of baking soda into a bowl.
2. add a few drops of water and work into a paste, like so:

3. bring paste into the shower and apply to the roots of your wet hair. work in thoroughly, then rinse!
4. condition with a glass of water, mixed with one teaspoon apple cider vinegar. leave on for two minutes, then do a final rinse with cold water.

what could be simpler? no packaging, no plastics.... no problem? my hair -- it's just like your hair, if you turned time back thirty years-- was often oily. but it became soft, supple and full like... hm, someone you would know...  barbarella's?

well -- not quite. it really looked like this:

i even went so far as to simmer fresh herbs -- rosemary and lavender -- to create a sumptuous herbal rinse, which i kept in a sport bottle in the shower. which was all fine and well, until one day, haha, after getting caught in a flash flood ---

'Come on and get to the point, Gina. I've got a prayer meeting in an hour and --- stop pulling on my bathrobe, you goddamn mother-loving dog!'

 --- well then.

the problem came when I moved to Geneva and the water quality suddenly changed from country soft to city hard. my hair became stiff and waxy... and i was full of despair. i tried everything: changing measurements, using sea-salt rinses, channelling mystics, all to no avail.

but i was loathe to go back to 'regular' methods.

the answer? for the moment, shampoo bars. so far, i've used them to great and surprising success. also! they last a long time and are pretty inexpensive.

my bars:  honey, egg and beer, mud and clay & ayurvedic herb.

mine come from a little company called Chagrin Valley Soap. they are detergent-free, stuffed with herbs and they really, really work. they give my fine Irish hair (thanks again) fantastic body. and yes, i still use 'salad dressing' to condition my hair....

... but other than that, consider your pantry safe.

je t'aime! lather. rinse. repeat.

until next time,

Gina, freshly-scrubbed

a brief holiday spent with YOU!

dear mom,

wow! hard to believe i am back in europe, after spending TWO WHOLE WEEKS with you! let me start off by saying that i already miss you. i'm sure the Kindle i received is the only one ever to be given with a spiritual note attached and printed on authentic amazon.com stationary. though Kindle is a worldwide product, there's only one 'sacred literary bond of blessings' between us!

also, i want to thank you for buying all those 'crazy vegetarian things' for me, even if they weren't used perhaps as you had imagined. "is that... my olive oil? my GOOD OLIVE OIL you're spreading all over your face, gina elizabeth? i could BRAIN you!"

being back with the family was full of action -- actually, it was as charged as a cage-fight! but a verbal one, only. we're a family of story-tellers. maybe this comes from our Irish roots, for which you of course are to bl -- thank.

it usually happens like this: someone brings up an embarrassing anecdote about X, who objects with a wounded 'HEYYY!' but alas, poor X, it's too late. everyone's already gotten really excited. they're cutting in with impressions, embellishments and voice-overs. don't look now. i said don't -- why'd ya hafta look! they're STANDING UP and staggering around, pretending to be you that time you got so drunk you drank the mossy pool water. everyone is slapping the table like it's a collective knee! and then one of the animals gets spooked and starts running around the room in circles.

i noticed this happened a lot this christmas. i admit that i, in the usual endearing fashion, began by saying, "hey everyone! remember when Julie had that weird condition and used to sit in a cardboard box all day?" soon, however, it was YOU who began doing actual physical impressions of her flopping over. "she was the cutest little thing!", i distinctly remember you saying as you raised your arms and let them hang first to the left, then the right, head lolling like the dog when you've forgotten to give him his medicine. (note: you remember the medicine 'almost everyday' now and that's great!)

but everyone had their turn. our family is nothing if not democratic. and we obviously get our flare for the dramatic from you... gifts don't always come with amazon.com stationary, but that doesn't make them any less precious.

enjoy the tea and cookies!

love always and till next time,

gina

Shampoo: Preparing to say goodbye..

...and feeling really confident!

On Wed, Sep 29, 2010 at 2:44 PM, gina palazzo wrote:

just wanna let you know i've decided to forego shampoo! baking soda and vinegar, plus rosemary and lavender, are my new best friends.

xx

On Sun, Oct 3, 2010 at 11:37 AM, eileen mcmanus wrote:

uh-oh!

Swimming

oh dear mom,

it's been while since i've had a chance to write. but now i'm back in the saddle with plenty to say! and of course, now that you've got the skype thing down to a pre-gallilean type of science, our communication is better than ever.

so. remember in my last letter how i passive-aggressively attacked your parenting skills for forgetting to teach me to swim? well, i'm over that now. i've decided to channel my feelings into art instead.

this is a still from my performance piece called 'drowning in the shallow end' and i'm dedicating it to you. rightly so, for there were plenty of real 'oh dear mom' moments: being lapped by the grandparents, then again by their grandchildren... getting a charge of electricity IN THE POOL from the dry swim cap... and for the final act, having the top half of my bathing suit undo itself (which redeemed me somewhat -- with the grandfathers, at least) in the midst of thrashing for the very life you gave me. think it will be a hit?

swimming is a real challenge. luckily, my swimming teacher has the kind of patience people in our family can only dream of. he understands our special brand of oppositional thinking -- like when he says 'float', i immediately start to 'sink'. or when he says 'arms first, then legs', he says it knowing all appendages will flail out with Shags-like arrhythmia. (remind me to discuss your musical abilities in my next letter.) he hasn't wept openly yet -- although we ARE in a pool and it would be easy enough to hide, no?

i shall keep you posted on my progress, useless goggles and all.

to the dearest dear mom in all the universe!

love always,

gina

mom jamz

whatta mom/whatta mom/whatta mom/whatta mighty good mom.

(yes she is!)

from sickland to FITLAND!

"how sweet it is to be loved by you." -- marvin gaye

Oh Dear Mom,

hello! this week brings good tidings. first, this letter. second, i've been evicted from sickland! newly sprung from the cauldron of malaise, i've decided to toast my good health with some exercise. improbably, this led my thoughts to you.

i'll start here: remember your collection of exercise machines? the Air Walker, Pilates machine and of course, the AirTramp, all made equally deep impressions on me and the carpet. there was no QVC contraption you were immune to. the drive was mighty, even if the muscles were weak: "gina! can you help me move this ever-loving thing?!"

you spent a lot of time thinking about exercise, much more than actually exercising. i now realize you were practicing an advanced form of ergonomics.... cleverly disguised as relaxation! and the machines, i daresay, are enjoying excellent second lives as household furniture. the AirTramp is a pretty convenient laundry basket... except when the dog breaks into a manic fit, runs over it and all the clothes scatter like a demented flock of Spring Rain scented birds.

what i'm saying is, your 'fitness as apathy' ruse really made its mark. all children hate what their parents love; you used this to best effect. what don't i owe to your influence? this, here, is all you:

despite all that rigorous training on the fallen bodies of your antiquated exercise equipment, there is one skill that still eludes me: swimming. this is because your idea of sick waves is Jones Beach. i'm sure you feel pretty guilty about it, but rest easy. i've decided to take swimming lessons, under the careful tutelage of a real live Swiss, at the Geneva public pool.

my first lesson is in a few days. can't wait to tell you all about it. until then, rest assured that i am getting enough exercise from Wii Fit... though it seems a little hollow without an intricate pulley system and a mom cheering me on from the couch.

write me your thoughts. i 'promise' not to post them.

love always,

gina xx