I am a hopeless optimist who still believes in the power of the written word to lift people’s hearts and minds. I naively believe that love conquers all, that one day I’ll meet a man who gets me, that my writing will mean something to someone out there, and that my life will be really really good. The thing is, I got fired from my bullshit waitressing job in NYC due to a broken elbow, had to find a cheaper apartment I could afford, but no one would take me because of my Pit Bull and was forced as a last resort to move in with my nut-job parents in suburban Long Island.
At forty years old, single, and not an ounce of my career in place, I’ve returned to the prison I’d lived my entire young life to be free of: the home of my crazy parents. I have only one outlet for sanity - this blog. Please enjoy.
Oh, and P.S. my sidekick is a 70 pound Pit Bull mix who looks so much like an Italian gangster, I named him Vito. I rescued him from doggie death row at a shelter in Harlem one Christmas Eve. He still rocks gold chains. His gas is so bad, he could wipe out an entire village. He likes to snuggle so much he practically pushes me off the bed every night, which is why I can never sleep. He’s my best friend.
(This is Vito and I in our glamour days before lockdown)
You can also catch bite-sized morsels of this fun insanity on Twitter @MPACTY. http://twitter.com/#!/MPACTY
*Note: Names and certain events have been fictionalized to protect the innocent and increase dramatic quality.
MyParentsAreCrazierThanYours (c) copyright 2011 Myra Bellotti. All Rights Reserved. No reproduction in any medium without prior written consent of the author is permitted.