Organized house vs. organized crime

Still no job. So I says to Gabriella, I says, “Hey my little Sicilian connoli! Don’t you have any mafia connections? Wouldn’t this be a good time to call an uncle or something? Doesn’t the mafia need technology support? I could be married to the mob, and maybe there’s a 2 year program sos yous don’t have to commit too many crimes or off anybody?” My sweet sposa thinks I’m kidding. I guess I am...sort of.

Her father’s father was not a gangster, but he did hide a Mafioso from the police and refused to give him up. They locked Nonno (grandpa) up in the pokey for not co-operating, and the family told everyone that he went away to college. Gabriella also recently googled another friend of the family she remembers visiting in New Jersey as a child. Turns out, he was the capo of the New Jersey Family. Total Sopranos. He passed away some time ago. There goes that lead. What next?

I’m ready for some out of the box solutions...and you know how much I like boxes! A little Feng Shui anyone? Now, I know nothing about it other than it exists, like Morris Dancing.

As luck would have it, we were hosting our good friend Elaine for a few days. Having a Masters Degree in Organizational Development, years of coaching experience and being uber smart, she was invited to run a Meyers Briggs workshop for MOMentum; my mother’s group. If you don’t know about the Meyers Briggs assessment, you can, in fact, still lead a normal and satisfying life. If you are familiar with it, you want everyone you know to complete this personality questionnaire so that you can figure out why you are surrounded by peculiar and confounding people. For those of you in the know, I’m an ENTJ. Pardon the over-share. Typical E.

Elaine has had the pleasure of coaching a Feng Shui...expert? Guru? Master? She’s someone who enhances the energy in your home through interior design. Elaine picked up quite a few tips and offered to impart her knowledge upon us. We were more than willing. Well, it will be no surprise to you all to learn that virtually every corner of our house is cluttered with the wrong stuff highlighted by the wrong textures and colours. Piles of toys in our wealth corner and hanging laundry in our career corner. It’s a travesty, really. No wonder we’re unemployed!

All Elaine had to say was, “Have you ever considered putting that bench over there?” And for the next 3 hours, we moved just about every piece of furniture in on our first floor, re-hung every piece of art and mapped out a plan for new paint and additional accessories. It looks amazing, if I do say so myself, and happy energy is definitely starting to flow. Any day now, we should be getting multiple job offers. At the very least I actually want to spend time in a part of the house that used to completely depress me.

Doubt if you will, but it just so happens that this afternoon, 2 days after our transformation and many days after a blogging lull, I got an email from Tina at The New York Times, The Local (where I contribute blog entries) asking me at the last minute if I wanted to be on TV. Our local cable channel airs a program called Diversity Doctor with Patrick Swift, and Tina was invited to bring a blogger with her to talk about the bloggers at The Local. She had originally asked another blogger who writes about aging, ageism and end-of-life issues...but he has since been hospitalized. Oh dear. I’m sending out well wishes to him from my wellness corner.

Yes, it’s local cable, but I’m all giddy anyway. It may be as close to fame as I get outside of the minute in the spotlight at 4 years old when I made it on to the evening news. We lived in California (which is relevant), and my mom took me to see a production of Hansel and Gretel just before Christmas. During intermission, for some bizarre reason, my mother escorted me to see Santa Claus in the lobby. Santa was then Mayoral candidate Diane Feinstein, so the local news was there to catch the half Jewish lady-politician dressed as Santa ask the Jewish kid, “And what wouId you like for Christmas, little girl?” To which I answered, “Nothing. I’m Jewish.” My mother beamed with pride. The indoctrination was a success. Kicking myself now. Should have asked for a pony.

I don’t know if the Feng Shui is going to do the trick, but at this point, we’re open to everything and anything bar animal or human sacrifice. Too messy. I’m sure that blood and guts are neither feng nor shui. Off to clear out the playroom. The Gassy Gus Game is bloating our career corner.