Lunch

Being italian automatically insinuates that I have an inherent love of food—no denying that. Last week sometime when I spoke with one of my favorite italian men in the entire state of Illinois he suggested that we go to lunch to catch up before I leave for Ohio. I happily accepted since, well... he's Dino and I could not possible say no to the man that deemed me as the other "half-breed." Half the greatest nationality in the entire world and well... half... not. Oops! This is what I love about being italian... No matter the occasion, you eat. Funerals, holidays, made up holidays like St. Joseph's day or just because it's Sunday - that one's my favorite. Food, for us is like the lights on a Christmas tree (oh, yeah, we eat when we decorate the tree, too!)—it just connects everything and everyone together. 

Unfortunately I was not able to have dinner with my favorite dago, but my favorite Irishman, Mr. Lobbsinger, was able to join my good friend Heather and I. 

These awesome people have blessed my work life in so many ways and I am just so thrilled to have met and become such good friends with them. They are just "good people" as Dann refers to us as, and good people as what they are. I would even go as far as to say that they are great people. 

I am having the most bittersweet of feelings right now...