Ciao! Io Non Sono La Violincellista. Io Sono Sempre La Chitarrista!

Hello! I am not a cellist. I am always a guitarist! Truly a musician, magician….

Now that I have lived in “a real home” where I can explore things beyond the “newness of fascination” and child-like wonder, I am faced with a choice. The choices are always for my heart to make. Its been a year since I decided to explore the cello. I always tried to play guitar sounds from it. Its been fun, but Lucien (my cello) will  be parting ways.

My guitar, Lucifer, shown in the first video has been something whose fate had been undetermined. She was missing-in-action until recently when my friend finally stated that the guitar was in fact sold to pay bills.
I breathed a sigh of acceptance for my first and most beautiful guitar’s fate. My newer guitar, Isis, never really felt the same and I was always wanting the old guitar; wanting the original guitar.

You really cannot play George Lynch or Warren Di Martini on a cello. I tried. Goddess Mother have I tried. They are completely unwillingly capable of producing harmonics like an electric guitar.

So I have a clean slate. My heart is free from want, expectation.
Musical life is new!

It means I will have to sell my cello, but that’s ok.
Any guitar could be my guitar now.




Photos & Shoes: Try them on for size

Greetings readers of tales from the rants of an Atypical Italian Woman!

Shoes are something we get to try on for “size”; we get to see briefly as they are viewed in a mirror.

Photos too can be something we can glance at and see how things are viewable from an outside point of view. Polaroids are the traditional medium for a shot of a model, or scene, that can give immediate feedback from a printed viewable medium.

Lately I’ve been gushing of things of the heart, staring at photos of me and her, posting them on social media sites or so. Its almost similar to those touristy places where the faces are cut out where tourists can stick their head through the hole and snap a shot. I can like what I see, or simply dismiss it as something that was a “snapshot in time” at the moment it was taken.

(Too often people get lost in the images & messages that a picture can send rather than placing value in the person, or at the very least not to get swept away in the notion of possibilities….)

Time is the truest test to the measure a picture-a snapshot of possibility.
Honestly, I like what I see but more importantly, I like how I feel in this “new pair of shoes.”

Perhaps we should go around with a stopwatch rather than a camera?


Anything can happen

“Anything can happen” does not implicitly indicate that Anything will happen.

(What’s this rant about?)

On any given day, there are many possibilities within the available set of circumstances.


Typically that course leads down a narrow scope, away from the most extreme possibilities.

(Yes, also true. But weren’t you making a point?)

So we can rule out the most extreme possibilities on any given day. Examples being Global Nuclear War, Virgin Birth, etc.

(So this blog is about you suggesting everything covered in the “et. cetera” then is it?)

Yes, it is.

(Why so “cloak and dagger?”)

I start each day filled with hope. I dream big. I dream in technicolor and black & white. I dream Everything is Closer to Happening. Life doesn’t mean a short thrill seeking ride anymore. Substance breeds greater and more mature possibilities.

(So you’re going to act your age now?)

Not entirely. Plus I don’t think that’s ever going to be possible from how old I am and how young I am at the same time.

(*raises glass*)

Here’s to whatever happens from here on forward. Anything might happen!


Sometimes it stops raining

Sometimes in life, it stops raining.
The air gets clear.
You can momentarily breathe.
Your head is out of the fog.
You may even feel your heart lighter.

Enjoy the moment the rain stops, you never know when it might storm.


City Life


I will say this about living in a city:
Its dirty,
people are hateful,
riding the bus is rarely a pleasure,
my room is tiny and expensive


I can walk home from work.

I can leisurely walk in the rain,

while listening to Por una Cabeza and arrive home to my tiny room from the store with microwaved grilled eggplant parmesan with sour dough bread dripped in Sicilian extra virgine olive oil, a bottle of Malbec from Argentina by candlelight with my window open just listening to the most beautiful part of living in a city.

In this I feel a tiny notion of love.

Its not much but,

I will savor it.


Top 5 Misconceptions about San Francisco

Misconceptions about San Francisco:

1. That boys frequently dress as girls.
Its not that kind of town. I have lived other places, even in the south, where gay boys frequently dressed up whether they were performing or not. Professional drag performances here are just another aspect of entertainment night life. Transgender is NOT equal to a gay boy in a dress.

(hint: it NEVER has been.)

2. It is a Trans-friendly town.
In my experience, if you are riding in an automobile, then you are free of groups of people yelling or harassing you with what they “perceive” about you. But wait? That is also true about any other state if you are trans, even in the south. Riding in a car keeps interaction to a minimum in any state and so North Carolina is just as “trans-friendly” in that sense. Job wise, there are more opportunities because of California state laws. Much progress in trans-legislature is a result of the Transgender Law Center

3. The Tenderloin is a great destination for European tourists.
I really lost count of shootings and altercations published about tourists from Europe having problems. Apparently there is some kind of advertisement abroad about why The Tenderloin area is such a great cheap place to stay. The Tenderloin is a festering ghetto, filled with methadone clinics, crack-heads, meth-heads, homeless…the list could go on…
Its also a stupid web rumor that it is the most “trans-friendly” area of town. Wrong! Try North Beach instead. Try North Beach if you are a European tourist also.
But I will say that there are some really rare great places to eat there, especially if you like Thai or Vietnamese or even Indian. Word of caution: do not go by yourself and stay in well lit places while traveling in numbers.

4. Housing is affordable.
Housing is far above the 30% of your income balance that the basic national rates hover near. Sure life in big cities can be expensive but property owners here have no problem extorting a large sum simply because “they can.” Plan on having roommates or living in an SRO. Plan on getting turned away based on judgement rather than income and a clean police record.

5. Haight-Ashbury is all about Peace, Hope and Love.
Jerry, Janice, Jim and Jimi are all dead and gone away for quite some time. If they had a spirit, it does not live here. This area of town has the most aggressive panhandlers and its a really stinky part of town. There is no love when you are getting yelled at simply because you are walking. Lots of people who haven’t bathed in like a decade laying in along the street and laying around in the adjacent parks. The streets that run parallel to either side of Haight (Paige & Waller) are pretty free of bums in the doorways. This is also the largest trust fund hybrid driving Hipster population and their pretentious ideals live, eat, play.
There are some great eats to be found at restaurants along Haight but like the clothing shops dotted along the street-higher prices only reflect higher rent and not necessarily “more for your value.”

The facts are simply that in the 2 1/2 years I have been here and traveled around the city, its not what the common rumor has painted it to be. Arriving here as a place to live, you had better plan to physically carve out your life to establish one. If you are from one of the Dot-com industries, you people can just bite my ass for causing all the rent to rise-and the neighborhoods loosing their cultural flavor through gentrification

Will I continue to live here? For a while. Though Muni feels horrendous when you ride it, this city has one of the largest network of public transit. The local Veterans Administration has great medical service to its community of those who served. There is my favorite tattoo shop here, Tattoo Boogaloo, that affords me to get some really sweet ink. North Beach isn’t Italy, but there are places all around there that make my Italiana Cuore sing with delight and feel a little better in my City by the Bay.


Le mie frasi preferite italiane. / Favorite Italian Phrases

Io non sono finocchio o uomo o Femminiello. Io sono una nuova donna, te chiamo transessuale. Capito?

I am a new woman, transsexual. I’m not a gay man, man or femminelilo. Got it?

(You  can see why this one is important)

Io sono la principessa di uove e pancetta affumicata!

I am the princess of eggs and bacon.

Neanche tu fossi l’ultima persona in Nord Spiaggia!

Not if you were the last person in North Beach!

Neanche tu fossi l’ultima persona in il mondo!

… the world!

Che succedi, vecchio/vecchia?

What’s up (how are things), old man/old woman?

Cazzo mia vita!




Vorrei il conto, per favore?

Check please!

Mi chiedono della mia assicurazione auto!

Ask me about my car insurance?

Mi piace fragole.

I like strawberries.

Vorrei una birra e cannoli. Peroni, per favore? Grazie.

I would like a Peroni and a cannoli please? Thanks.
(This phrase came out of the fact that for desert I wanted to have tiramisu and a Peroni but they  only had cannoli. Its my signature dessert “Cannoli and Peroni!”

Che cosa significa en inglese?

What does this mean in English?

Quanto costa?

How much (does this ) cost?

Ti piace il mio tatuaggio?

Do you like my tattoo?

Dami un bacio?

Give me a kiss?

Restiamo amici, per sempre.

Let’s stay friends, forever.

Tu sei simpatico.

You are funny.

Mi amo tu!

I love you!

Tutto e possibile per la bellissima cigni.

Everything is possible for beautiful swans.

Ciao! A piu tarde. A piu domani.