An open letter to my dear Snooki, from one Italian girl to another on Yom Kippur

Dear Snooki:

I never thought I'd say this but you said something in an interview this week that reminded me of, ahem, me.
Before you get defensive, read here on how I feel about you and your fellow Jersey Shore folk.  I actually like you. I really do.

What you said was that you want to marry someone whose last name ends in a vowel.  HA!!  I love it!  I used to say the exact same thing.  I'm 100% Italian American and I always assumed I would marry another Italian.

And, I did what you do when you're snookin for love.  I dated my fair share of Italian men.  But, if the way to make G0d laugh is to have a plan, then G0d's cheeks must hurt over this one.

As it turns out, love doesn't know the difference between a consonant and a vowel.  And, it also doesn't know religion.

Today, I am grateful ~

1/ For compromise.  I can't make gravy today because H is fasting and that would just be cruel.  So, I'll go shopping instead.

2/ For pizza bagels.  A perfect pairing.  Right up their with chocolate and peanut butter.

3/ That, as H sometimes reminds me, I wasn't so far off in my grand plan.  Y is sometimes a vowel.

From our wedding video ~
Follow me and my yearlong project, Stop and Blog the Roses, on Twitter @fernronay.

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