I am the most unconventional looking Italian in my family. Instead of being short with dark hair, eyes and skin, I have blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin and am 5'7'', a Valkyrie by New Yorker standards. My cousins say I look like a movie star... I'm like WHAT!? It's too bad the leaps one makes intellectually aren't as easily observed from visit to visit. Despite sticking out, I sometimes wish my mother had moved back home once she had us. New York is absolutely unique; how could she have left it in the first place? There's something elusive as to what makes family so important. Is it the commonality of location and upbringing? I think not. For me, it's the notion that you're all the same in some way. It's the warmest feeling of being connected, of being home. Italian families must be the best at this, what with all the pasta and affectionate hugs and kisses. I see little bits of myself in my cousins: the quick temper, the big heart, and a propensity toward large dinners with much talking and laughing. I think I'll bring home a bit of accent and pretend I'm still there!

And now, a rant on my brother Noah: if I vent a bit here, it couldn't hurt, right? Right? He's been playing video games all freaking morning! How he can sit at a screen and kill things for that long is positively beyond reason. Now, I do enjoy an occasional match, but my escapades never go on for hours and hours. One week out of the year, we're on vacation and he chooses not to spend time with his family members, but to devote his attention to the prized activity: staring off into a box while manically punching buttons! Does he do this at home in addition? YES! I wonder that his fingers haven't seized up yet!!!!