Italian Siesta_

I think I am cute and smart in a balanced measure and because of that  I totally agree with those who state that to understand a woman's brain, you need a PhD in Psychology.

I started noticing that I am that type of person who, on certain topics, doesn't like to hear the truth.

-Oh, I have lots of wrinkles!
-No, you don't! You are just thirty-five and those you have are fine.
- No, I don't have wrinkles. I just had a bad night. I need to rest!

>>>

-  I think I have some cellulite now! Oh my God, that is awful!
-  It is not cellulite, Claudia. Let me see, where is it?
- What?
- Cellulite?
- No, I just need to do some sport! I don't have cellulite!

>>>

- Do I buy the blue or black Moleskine?
-Why don't you buy the black? You have already the blue one.
-Isn't it so cute? The yellow one?
-So, pick it!
-Ok. Got it. Blue! It matches with my eyes...
- Claudia, your eyes are brown.
-I know. I didn't say they are the same. I said it matched! Why are you so complicated!

For the same reason, I should stop asking questions like: can you tell me something that makes you think of Italians?
As soon as I pronounce that question, I start shaking. I always wonder why those words come out from my mouth with that nice, mellow Italian accent. I feel already sorry for the poor student I am asking to. They are confident, they feel at ease reassured by my smiles and my sentences not too fast, not too slow...they don't know there is only one word I really cannot stand: SIESTA!

The word SIESTA is like a tamper switch to me, the one used in the security system industry to prevent somebody can destroy your alarm system even before the alarm is detected. It bothers me so much that I can actually read my students' lips. As soon as they start with that type of smile which originates the consonant S, I already know. (Smile - Sssss -iesta)

If I asked my Italian friends what the word "siesta" reminds them, I am sure most of them would say Speedy Gonzales. Unless they already migrated to another country, they would never think they are being associated to that hissing word.

Do you remember Speedy? He was not an Italian mouse. He was Mexican! He was wearing a sombrero, not a coppola cap! His friends were playing guitars, not mandolins!

Apparently, it sounds like an Italian, who takes everything easy, after a long lunch doesn't go to work anymore. He goes for a siesta. An Italian day finishes at 2 pm and for that same reason we don't say good afternoon, but we immediately switch from Buongiorno to Buonasera. In the afternoon we are just sleeping!

I know my students, my Canadian friends who say that, don't mean anything bad. And, if I think about it, it is actually interesting to discover how some people can see us.
It doesn't matter if I try to explain that not everybody can have a nap in the afternoon and that, possibly, the people they met were unemployed (struggling with other issues, indeed), retired or 2 years old!
Or even that, when you wake up after a siesta, you have to go back to work where you stay until the end of the day!

Before I tried a couple of times to explain how it worked. Now I smile, I start singing in my mind "Speedy Gonzalez"

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3vo_R1g7VE

and, while rubbing my cellulite lotion, I think how to make a post for my blog out of this weird thought!