Hungry Ronnie

(I just found this post I had written back in January. I think i didn't publish it because I got on my self's nerves while reading it)

Nine years ago I spent 3 months in Costa Rica. Nine years ago while in Costa Rica I started dating Julius who would become my husband and baby daddy. More importantly, nine years ago in Costa Rica while dating Julius, I met someone who will have forever changed my life. His name was Ronnie, Hungry Ronnie. His occurrences were like something from an obnoxious sitcom. Before his story unfolds, a picture of us during this chapter in our lives.

My 20th birthday, February 14, 2003 and the night I started having a crush on this young boy.

Superbowl Sunday 2003 was spent at News Cafe' in San Jose, CR. There were five of us, 19 and 20 stupid yr. olds who would take advantage of the drinking age being only 18. We threw many a  Rock Ice and Imperial's back, didn't watch a second of the game and got asked to leave for loud, annoying behavior. Stupid Americans. While stumbling out of there, we heard five words that would ring in my ears and be on my tongue everyday for the next 9 years. "Hey, you guys speak English?"asked in a high pitch friendly male voice. Alas, another English speaker. In our tipsy stupor we attacked this man with conversation and affection. We talked to him on the streets for what seemed like hours, exchanging stories of the days of old and hearing of his life and how and needed money for food and was wondering if we could spot him some Colones. Some? How about we give you enough to pay your food and rent for a month? While hugging and kissing him good-bye, the only thing he could have been thinking was "Stupid Americans at their finest" as he walked away with a huge wad of Colones.

For the next few days, Hungry Ronnie came up in conversation a good amount. Mainly because we couldn't believe how much money we gave him, but also because yeah, we liked the the guy. About 4 days later we saw him on the streets up ahead leaving a restaurant accompanied by an American. By the looks of it, this American had just bought him a bag of food . We were so excited, "Hey Ronnie!" we screamed, waving frantically to get his attention so we could talk to him and catch up and shoot the breeze. He gave us a strange look and then picked up the pace and dissed us. "Freaking ouch dude" we said, "did our new friend just shun us?".

A few days later at night, Julius was walking my friend Sarah and I to our bus stop so we could go back to where we were staying in Cariari. While walking down an alleyway we heard from afar in a male friendly high pitch voice, "Hey! You guys speak English?" We quickly turned around. "Ronnie!", the three of us exclaimed. He said, "You guys know me?" and was gone in a flash. Quite astonishing how quickly he disappeared. And then it finally clicked. We were the stupid Americans yet again. His strange look from a few days before was that of  an "oh shoot i figured you guys were just tourists  and I would never see you again so I would scam you for all you got. I then was shocked to see you again while I was in the process of conning another".

We didn't stay around San Jose but traveled around the country and then went to live at the beach in Jaco. Over the next couple months, Ronnie became a legend, a legend we were happy to mock. On a daily basis i would preform Hungry Ronnie in my high pitch friendly male voice "Dya guys speak English? The name's Ronnie, Hungry Ronnie, haven't eaten in days" We did not expect to see Ronnie again.

At the end of three months when it was time to go back to the US of A, we went back to San Jose for the 2 last days. While walking down a crowded street through the city , I felt a presence. An all too familiar presence. Before I knew it, I heard something in my ear "This may be a long shot, but do you guys speak English?". As we turned around we said "Ronnie? Really?" and he then walked in the opposite direction. That made my absolute day. I could not have asked for anything more, Oh wait, I could. That day we saw Ronnie scamming a lot of Americans throughout the city. He changed shirts several times. It was like he knew we were leaving and wanted to give us his performance of a lifetime. Julius was able to grab his video camera and catch him in the act. He went up to Ronnie and said, "Hey Ronnie, yes we still speak English". His response was, "Hey get that camera out of my face man, that's scandolous". Knowing that if I ever want to see this historical figure, all I have to do it watch the video, my life is complete. I leave you with one question, and one question only. Have you seen Ronnie?

Disclaimer: My wish for Ronnie in 2012 is that he is full. I hope by now he is working a real job, has a wife, 2 kids and a big house. I do not wish any man hungry.

My favorite song from the 8th grade.
A little Chris Cornell and Pearly Jammy Jam.
I will always think of Ronald when I hear it.

       HUNGER STRIKE

...But I'm going hungry, yeah...
I'm goin' hungry, yeah...
But I'm I'm goin' hungry.

Yeah, I don't mind stealin' bread...ooooooo......
I don't mind...
I don't mind stealin' bread...yeah.....
I'm goin' hungry, yeah....

11/11/11

This date, in our home, not only means we will be remembering the Veterans that served our country well, but also it is to us, an Italian, salt and pepper haired, hottie, turning 29. Salt caused by yours truly. "Alright already woman! Enough with the birthday tributes!" Well I hear ya, but I just had to give a shout out to my faithful, loyal and patient as crap, husband, Julius Silvio Milani, born November 11, 1982 in Eugene, OR.

Ja'Rulius is his street name, and sistas, can he flow. I often remember the time we were driving back from Camp Pendleton to San Clemente and I had to ride smashed against the door in the back seat because the surf board was taking up the whole car. We had music on with no lyrics. He flowed non stop for the 25 minute drive home. No stuttering, no hesitation. It was dark and all I could see was the back of his head, and for those 25 minutes, I was riding in the back seat of a brotha's car, and I was proud. We often rap together present day riding in the car as a family. I can't compete with his skills and most times when I'm at a loss for lyrics, I revert back to the flow my  mafia sister Dawny and I wrote together in S. Fl. when we were 14, while smoking cigars and drinking O'douls.

Before Julius and I started dating, we were great friends who had a ridiculous and hysterical time together. Because we are both 50% Italian, we used to have a plan called "OPERATION RELATION".  We were going to trace back our heritages and find a link that made us somehow related. When we started dating, the plan came to a halt.

We want a lot of children, and Lord willing, I will give Julius the basketball team he desires. He is an amazing father who is constantly wrestling and fighting the boys and throwing them around. Benjamin's new name for everyday is presently Karate Benjamin. When the 3 of them are not getting out aggression, they are hiding under forts and searching for dinosaurs. Outside they catch bugs and pick things up that if I came in contact with, I would freak the freak out. While I taught Jet to stomp and smash any bug he sees, Julius has done a good job reversing this habit, and now Jet only smashes bugs with my permission. While I have a shorter fuse for tolerating whining and crap, especially by the early evening, I rest assured knowing that the little boys will be in good hands because "Daddy" will be done working soon and they will have a man and a fresh set of hands to hang with, who will show them nothing but love and patience. The other night when eating dinner, Jet was only wearing a shirt and socks and was moving from chair to chair at the table. His tush went in Julius' pasta bowl. His bare butt was then covered in a bolognese sauce and grated Parmesan. Had it been my plate,  my hand would have been covered in sauce and cheese from a nice swat to the behind. But Julius was unaffected and just moved his plate calmly to the side and dealt with it appropriately. He doesn't put up with crap either, he just is more slow to anger than this B-ya.When I tell Jet I love him, his response is, "I love Daddy." 

He has a past of bringing home living things. When we first got married, we got an ant farm and a fish tank. Then we moved to Cali. In the beginning he had to work one Saturday a month in San Diego. I take it he had time for Craigslist because every time he worked that Saturday, he would come home with a new living something, without my consent. Iguana, Chinchilla, Zebra Finches, Iguana, Kitten, oh and another Iguana. Shoot me. Nothing stayed long. We also got a puppy almost 2 years ago off Craigs list. One he really wanted. I agreed to getting it but was firm in my word when I said I was not taking care of it. Less than 24hrs. after bringing it home, it was back on Craigs. (Don't worry animal lovers and activists, he went to a good home).

I don't even know where to begin on telling you about his skills in building things. Chicken coupe, mirror, island top, end tables, piano bench, trellises, stairs and the list goes on. I mention we need something. He says he can build it. He prints out a 15% off coupon. He goes to Lowe's. Spends a few nights out in his workshop, and then bam, he presents it. I scream and sometimes pass out from being blown away. He just built a beautiful stone fire pit and benches out back. Talk about being impressed. I often catch him staring out the window into the yard, proud of his work, a little too proud.
He also is an exceptional painter and many of his artwork is on display on our walls.

I love this man because of his love for gardening and crop production. Sometimes I call him Adam from the garden of Eden. Actually I've never done that. While I appreciate flowers, my true fondness is for fruits, vegetables and herbs. What is better than having fresh, organic, home grown goodness? Since we bought this house a year and a half ago, he has planted 3 apple trees, a fig tree, a pear tree, a peach tree, a mulberry tree, a cherry tree, a pomegranate tree, kiwi, blueberry and raspberry bushes and I know I am forgetting something.  Because of my love for cooking, nothing is better than going out to the herb garden and grabbing a handful of free, fresh herbs to accompany the meal. Summer is a time of vegetables. I am presently waiting for the lettuce and other greens to make an appearance for the winter crop.

In the past, I have enjoyed when we've watched the Notebook together because his love for me is kicked up a notch for the next few days. What also does it is, "Return to Me." We watched that the other day and we are obsessed with each other presently. We keep saying things like, "Please never die". And just the other day he said, "I want to punch your freaking face in so hard right now". Ah love.

When Jet was younger and barely talking, when he would get angry or frustrated he would scream , "JULIUS!" not knowing it was his father's name. He knew it to be a word, that he learned from his mother, to yell when you were angry or frustrated. Bless my husband's heart.

He and a couple of his BFF's have "band practice" on Monday nights out in the workshop. And how creative, they call their "band", "The Workshop." Fortunately it is far away from the house where I don't have to hear the jam session. Occasionally though, I go out there and listen from outside and dance under the stars by myself holding up my lighter. I am the groupie. It makes me laugh and smile to hear them having so much fun playing music and singing. I love his loyalty to his friends. They are like brothers to him and he would do anything for them. He also has a "surf club" with those guys, and they call it JAD (Julius, Andrew, Daniel). Once again, I am so impressed by it's originality. They made T-shirts displaying "JAD".

The newest member of JAD. 

Speaking of music, Ja'Rul does a mean Ray Charles impression. While on piano, he plays the same Ray and Elton songs over and over and over again. He also plays some banjo, mandolin and whips out his harmonica sometimes while playing guitar. We have many a time recorded music together. This typically ends in a fight because I can't stay serious long enough and always end up breaking out in opera-like singing and therefore ruining the recording.

                                                       Karate praising the Lord.

Many things that start off as jokes with us, become our reality. Examples: From the start of our marriage, 6 1/2 years ago, we used to mock couples who would always call each other "babe" after any statement they said to each other. But not just a regular sounding "babe", a fast and peppy way of saying it,  like "beb". The mock became a regular part of our lingo, and for years now we constantly call each other "beb", not even in a jokingly manner. Another joke turned reality is "Boom Boom". Anytime we would see a black, loaded, tinted window, big SUV, like an Escalade, Tahoe, Suburban type, we would always say "Booom Boooom" and do a type of bounce with our bodies. We would do this because this is the bass you would expect to hear coming from the car with some form of rap/R&B playing. Well this also became reality. Julius sold his car that he loved and had the fondest of college memories in, and as of a month and a half ago, I now am the proud owner of a Boom Boom.  After we bought the big, black, loaded, tinted window Suburban, we drove home separately from the dealership. Julius got home before me. When I pulled onto our street, I put on Power 98, turned up the bass on the Bose and creeped down the street so he could hear me coming. This is now my warning I'm almost home so he could  come out and help unload the groceries.

                                 Our final pictures with "Montey" before he went on to a better home.

And just to stop myself for a minute, I just read this over. Please forgive me for talking about myself, as this is supposed to be about my lover. This is his salute and I am a selfish creep and can't keep myself out of this. Moving on.

This man pursues the Lord daily. He keeps Christ the head of our home. He gets his confidence from his Savior. I love watching him evolve more and more into a man of God. He prays with us, and for us. I pray my boys will turn out just like him. I thank God for giving me a man able to put up with me and all my junk. For sticking with me through my times of depression and insanity and never loving me any less. His love for this family is unconditional, and for that, we are BLESSED!

  Julius has Psoriasis. I have Vitiligo. We are a match made on earth.

Happy Birthday Beb! I love you muy muy mucho! Meet me in the bedroom in 5! Raar!

I'm kidding. That was to make any bystanders uncomfortable.

The song I leave with today is one of great meaning to us both. A few months back, we heard the music to "Oh Danny Boy" in church. On the drive home, we sang in opera the song from the Saved by the Bell episode where AC Sladers chameleon, Artie, dies and Jessie Spano sings at his funeral. She sings this song, with the "Oh Danny Boy" tune. Thank you and Enjoy.

 "Oh Artie boy

 the bugs, the bugs are buzzing

               There's gnats and ants, mosquito's and the fly

And they'll be bugs for breakfast, lunch and dinner

In that great chameleon banquet in the sky."

Annie

June 11, 2011 meant for my hubs and I, 6 years of marriage down, 2 little boys to show for it, and a stupid, in a good way, time.

Early in the day we made up a very long song driving in the car where we took turns roasting each other about some times we've spent married;  the hard times and annoying habits. I was crying I was laughing so hard. The chorus was so catchy, Jet was singing it after we got home. If a famous singer were to have written and preformed this song, I would say it sounded like it could have been a Lionel Richie 80's hit.

My In-laws came over at night to babysit while Julius and I went out for Sushi. After we were sat we asked to move tables because we were near a table with children, and when I am away from my kids, I sure as heck don't want to be near anyone elses either. Dinner was nummy nums. My wine got me thinking.

Whenever I am pregnant, all I have is this incredible urge to push, I mean to drink. All I talk about is, "When I am done being knocked up, I am going to drink like a fish!" Let's be honest, after I had Jet until the time I got pregnant with Benjamino, I had one glass of wine. Anniversary night that was going to change.

After we got home, said good-bye to the grandparents, checked on the little ones, we made a decision as a married couple, to get our drink on. JaRulius picked some mint outside for me and I threw it in the simple syrup I was brewing on the stove, then poured it over some ice, vodka and lime juice. It was no mojito but it would do. Julius made his own special drinks. We sat in our front room by the big window, watching it rain and lightning and having the best conversation. I mean deep and philosophical and spiritual, the kind that only alcohol can induce. Julius was talking about something close to his heart and then all of a sudden, mid sentence, he couldn't talk anymore and started tearing up. Uhhhh.... I just sat there not used to seeing him cry. Then all of a sudden, mid tear, he stopped and was like,"I'm not even sad, that reaction was 90%  from the alcohol."  Then we started to laugh. Then we started to take shots. Then things turned goofy. The night went on. As we sat in bed drinking straight from the bottle of Captain Morgans(you might be a redneck), I remember Julius kept saying, "This is the funnest anniversary so far!" And I kept saying, "We need to do this once a month!"

After the festivities were over and Julius was sleeping, I thought it would be a good idea to start a blog about my past PPD. This is all I got:

"klet me break ir down, it is 11:42 PM on June 11th. TodaY Is my 6 year anniversary, and i am drubnk. i probably won't get much written but I need to start somehingI have been putting off. have i wanted to write this? freaking no to the way! I hate reliving this but I would say I have gone thru this in vain if i dont write about it and let antyone else know the thingsi went thru and perhaps heklp another suster anolng the wqay. off tyhe subjecct, tonight wAS A a fun night. lots of sushi and some alcohol back at the hoouse and some suga. now my 3 boys ee passed out and i need to use this drink awake tie to be oprocuctive. I just read tghis ad laifhged, my hNDS are a little numg making it hrad to type. should i erase this and starty over? i'll decidee thqt when i prick this up."

It's funny how when you drink, time slows when you're having fun. Anyway, it's probably a good thing I stopped my writing there. Bottom line is, it was a fun night.  I woke up to an empty bottle of rum at the foot of the bed, dehydrated with a headache. My first thought was, "I am never drinking again". My second thought was, "I need a McGriddle. I need a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit.  I need a hash brown.  I need a scalding hot coffee, stat". I grabbed one of my kids, left the other with their father, and headed straight to the McDonald's drive thru.

Back at the breakfast table, Julius and I just looked at each other thinking, "What did we do last night?"

So what's the moral of the story? I guess it's that it's ok to do something out of the ordinary every once in a while, esp. in a controlled enviroment. Next time I drink like that will probably be at our 20 year anniversary party. It wiped me out for the whole day and I have no desire to do that again anytime soon. Second moral of the story, be responsible. Baby # 3 on the way? Time will tell, but I shall call her Annie, in honor of our anniversary. TMI. Good Bye.
"He drinks a whisky drink
He drinks a vodka drink
He drinks a lager drink
He drinks a cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the good times
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the better times"

Oh Chumbawamba, thank you for your 1997 annoying hit.