Holiday Goodies

Certain people, I’m told, are particularly susceptible to taking their parents seriously, just as they might be to sunburn, or T.B.  I believe it, especially around New Year’s Eve, when a trio of my Mom’s personal aphorisms begins to clang around my head. 

“Don’t drive after dark: the drunks are out.”  Kinda true, and especially relevant.  Not only do New Year’s Eve activities happen in the dark, but most revolve around drinking.  Plus, this being Los Angeles, I drive wherever I’m going.  Looks like I’m not going anywhere.

“Don’t breathe other people’s exhalations.”  Admittedly one of her more bizarre pieces of advice, but no less applicable.  Parties, by their very nature, are full of people, and people (the unhygienic monsters) consistently breathe.  Best I stay at home.  (And ask my boyfriend to direct his exhalations out an open window.)

“Nothing good ever happens after midnight.”  Forget seeing the ball drop.  I’ll be desperately trying to will myself to sleep at that point, avoiding whatever general “not good” waits around to pounce on people in the wee hours.

My sister thinks I’m a great cook. She thinks my chocolate chip cookies are perfect, my panini-grilled sandwiches are divine and my omelets, the best she’s ever had. My sister also thinks Kraft Macaroni and Cheese is a gourmet delicacy. 

I used to have a fear of doing things on my own. This included going shopping, going to the movies, and going to sporting events. Now walking into a coffee shop in Rome, at age 22, I am completely void of that fear, and I am as thankful as ever for overcoming it.

I have just walked into Caffe Della Pace, placed behind one of the most beautiful piazzas in all of Rome—Piazza Navona. With the option of sitting outside or in, I choose in, as the air on this December morning is brisk. I am told that I not only have the choice to sit inside or outside, but that I can pick any table in the entire cafe—which is composed of two large rooms. The front room, which I have just walked into, is full, and so I venture into the back room. ‘This is perfect,’ I think to myself. ‘No one is back here.’ I spot a table on a lower level of the room next to a backdoor. The table has three seats, but I don’t mind because there is a statue placed to the side of the table that can keep me company.

The waitress follows me as I sit down and hands me a menu. Quickly, I say, “Pronto,” which means “I am ready,” in Italian “Un cappuccino e cornetta con cioccolato per favore,” I say, which translates to “A cappuccino and a chocolate croissant, please.” She smiles at me and says, “Si,” before walking away with my menu.

I never understand how something becomes a day (or a month, for that matter -- November is National Pomegranate month.  April is Grilled Cheese Month.)  Washington’s Birthday and Lincoln’s Birthday suddenly became President’s Day?  And who picked the date of Memorial Day?     

But I think we should all declare June 12th to be Habeas Corpus Day. And I hope that we celebrate it forever.   

Habeas Corpus:  Writ requiring a person to be brought before judge or into court, esp. to investigate lawfulness of his restraint.