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Italian memories

When I first moved to Chicago, my then-boyfriend and I went to dinner at Sal's home. Sal was an Oregon State football player in college, as was my boyfriend - that was the connection.



Sal's parents were from Italy and spoke very little or no English. We sat down and a nice roasted chicken appeared. I thought that was our meal, so I ate a fair amount. Silly me!!!!!! About ten courses later (pretty much served one at a time), I was dying ... and, as Sandra well knows, there apparently is no Italian word for "enough ... no more!"



Bill and I saw Vantage Point last night and really enjoyed it. Quite the adrenaline rush throughout the full 70 or so minutes.



Ooooops, I better get to my work. Love to all ...

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