Self Defense

Guest n°2

Cesarea (Shay-Zah-Ree-Ah)

Cesarea wasn't really invited to the party, but she came anyway. That was typical of her. I wouldn't say that Mads disliked Cesarea, but there were always moments that Mads found herself unknowingly squeezing her fists in stress/annoyance while speaking to her. It wouldn't be until the pain of her nails slicing into her hands became unbearable that she would realize just how wound up she was getting.

It wasn't because Ceserea was a nasty or cruel person in anyway. She was just overly defensive... About everything. You couldn't have a conversation with her without unexpectantly finding yourself backed into a corner.

Mads had been to her home once before and remembered it being so fitting. It was strangely warm and inviting, but the moment you relaxed and sat down it seemed to wake up and sound the alarms. Her home was a tricky little bastard because on the outside it seemed elegantly bold, yet sweet and passionate...but the moment you let your guard down it was there like a hawk ready to deafen you with its cry.

Elle Decor Italia May 2008

Rèussir son Habitat Aug/Sept 2008

AD Italia Nov 2007


AD Italia July 2008

Mads was thinking desperately of a cordial way to greet Cesarea without pressing any buttons. Fortunately, Cesarea initiated things with a compliment,

"Wow Mads, you have really outdone yourself this time! The place is fabulous! I heard of all of the problems that came up during the reconstruction process...Gosh! You must be so happy its done! Happy and proud! Am I right?"

Compliments...Hmmm, this was going well. Mads breathed a sigh of relief,

"That is so sweet of you to say...And yes I am very happy and quite proud!"

The two exchanged Italian kisses and Mads, feeling quite good about her accomplishment and how the night was going in general, decided to engage in a little chit chat,

"And speaking of proud, you must be as well! We have all heard about your brother Matteo's new job position! Director of the Bentley? It's only the largest, most well known and prestigious hotel in all of Liguria..."

MAds hadn't even let the breath of the last word out when she knew that there was a problem. She could see it in Cesarea's face, and hear it in her suddenly flat voice,

"Why would we be proud? What is so exceptional about the situation that you would assume that we would be brimming with pride?"

Mads began running through the last 30 seconds of conversation, wondering where it had gone all wrong,

"No, I mean, I just think it is wonderful and inspiring that he would be appointed as Director of such an important establishment. He has certainly worked hard to get it"

"And we should be proud and overjoyed because my brother, who has been working in the hotel industry for half his life and who has been praised for his professionalism and ability to create atmospheres and balance budgets better than anyone else...We should be proud that he, the obvious choice in our minds, was finally given the opportunity that he deserves? Is that what you are saying?"

Mads was already beginning to loose sensation in at least 3 of her fingers on her right hand,

"All I am saying is that if I were you I would be very proud of my brother in this situation. I mean, he is blind, and this isn't exactly a normal situation"

"Oh! So my brother isn't normal just because he is blind? So you don't think blind people are capable of working the same as people with sight?!? How dare you assume he will fail before he has even finished signing his contracts! You know its people like you that create this kind of discrimination in the world....!"

"Okay, listen, I'm not sure where this went wrong but I was not judging your brother or predicting his failure. In all honesty, I'm just amazed at how many hurdles he has overcome and how well he has done up until now."

"The only hurdles he has are people like you! He has been doing this job for over 15 years!"

Mads decided to take a chance,

"Well, running a bed and breakfast and a multi million dollar 5 star hotel aren't exactly the same, in all fairness, Cesarea"

"Oh so your saying that because he is blind he wont be able to adjust to the slightly larger scale of operations?"

Understanding that this was going nowhere, but around and around in circles, thus missing any point to be made, Mads concluded what had started as such a nice conversation,

"Okay, you know what, never mind...Congratulations, again. Send my love to your brother and his wife. I hope she has been able to recover from her injuries..."

"What?!? So you think that just because he is blind he wont be able to take care of his wife who has lost the use of her legs and be successful and dedicated to his job? SCREW YOU! AND SCREW PEOPLE LIKE YOU! HOW DARE YOU THINK THAT THE BLIND CANT BE AS STRONG AND AS SUPERHUMAN AS THE REST OF US!

Hands bleeding, Mads gathered herself and walked away.

That Girl

Guest n°1

Sandra.


Sandra opened her email with an anticipation that very rarely graced her life. She hadn't been to a real party in a long time. Back in the day she was the 'It Girl', but recently with work, life, stress and a relationship gone bad, she had slipped into a mundane existence that facilitated her arrival to Saturday morning when she could sleep-in and eat leftover pizza for breakfast.



She spent most of her time at home. Her house was her pride and joy, but I must say, in as much of an objective and non judgmental way as possible, that although quite nice...Well, there was always something just not quite right. The very good idea and attempt gone bad. But you couldn't tell Sandra that. Oh no! Not only had she needed a reality check for quite some time, but she also lavished herself in denial on a daily basis.


Well you be the judge...

AD Italia Jan 2008
AD Italia Jan 2008

AD Italia Jan 2008

...Anyways...

It seemed to have taken forever for the file to download and when the slide-show began she smiled as memories of the event were refreshed. After 3 or 4 photos she began to get impatient. Where was she? You see, she had made a real effort that night. She had found a skirt that she had worn a few years back that had been daunted by others as 'The Killer Skirt That Sandra Got In Rome'. She wore it along with a new top she had bought for the occasion. She had taken a chance because the skirt was a bit shorter than she remembered and a bit tighter. But she was looking to leave an impact. She was looking to be remembered and that skirt was her ticket. And then her thoughts were interrupted by an image that almost stopped her heart. Finally there was a picture of her. But not the one she expected. Instead of looking like a diva dressed in Prada, she looked like a beached whale wrapped in a black plastic. And if the 1st photo stopped her heart, then the next three can be summarized by watching any 5 minutes of a WWE Smackdown highlights clip. Her ass seemed to expand exponentially in each photo. Sandra's palms began to sweat. How could this be possible? She wasn't fat. Fine, most of her clothes were a bit too tight, or too small all together, but that was only because her washer was old. She had bought a new one, and admittedly the problem didn't go away, but that was only because there was an electrical problem with the currents and fuses and whatever else is involved in home wiring. In fact, she already had an appointment scheduled with the electrician for next Tuesday.

And then her mind began to race...Maybe there was a problem with the camera. Or the monitor. Like when the wide screen came out and everyone looked like short fat chipmunks. Of course! It was the format of the photos! She quickly started the slide-show from the beginning to examine how others looked. The first person seemed completely normal, but she was like 20 years old and completely anorexic, so she didn't count. Then others popped up with smiles and decent figures. And then she saw herself again and the vomit creeped up the back of her throat.

Oh My God, She thought. I'm FAT. Its not the dryer or the cut or the fabric or the electricity. Its me! I'm fat and I squeezed my fat ass into a skirt that I should have never worn and I pranced around all night like I was a supermodel not even knowing that the stares weren't out of admiration, but of ridicule.

The embarrassment overwhelmed her.

Oh my God. I'm That Girl.

Overdose and Implications

Zikulman trotted down the stairs and Mads waited until she heard the slam of the iron doors before she proceeded up the stairs.

As she approached her apartment, she realized that her door was slightly opened. Fearing the worst after a string of burglaries in the past few months and being the proud parent of a completely useless dog, Mads dug into her bag for the illegal pepper spay she had bought on Ebay

Being a big fan of any detective/cops reality show, Mads assumed the position of spray out, safety clip released...And gave the front door a kick.




The entrance was normal...









Mads was about to step into her home when Simona crossed her path.



Simona was an old friend of hers meaning she had known her before moving to Italy. They had met during Mads undergraduate studies and shared a room in a co-op that should have been closed down years before.



Simona was an incredibly interesting person, but borderline annoying/insane. She was a modern hippie which meant that reality was not of particular importance to her.



Don't get me wrong, Mads is all for liberal thinking. She graduated from UC Berkeley and went at least 2 years without shaving her legs. But then she needed to get a job and pay the bills. Call her a sell-out, but if shaving her legs, washing her hair and putting on a suit meant that she no longer had a voice, then so be it.



Anyways, Simona comes from money. Ironically her family is in the oil business and while she refuses to accept a job from them, she has no problem accepting a monthly allowance. She justifies it by using the money to lead a cleansed life filled with organic food, herbs vs pharmaceuticals and regular retreats. Her home is also very green and earthy. It embodies the natural elements of the world in a very stylish and contemporary way.

Elle Decor Italia June 2007

Elle Decor Italia June 2007

Elle Decoration Austria Jan 2008

Elle Decor Italia Nov 2007

Elle Decor Italia Nov 2007

Elle Decor Italia June 2007

Elle Decor Italia Nov 2007

While loosing herself in the aura that is Simona's home, Mads was suddenly reminded of the situation at hand.

"Simona, what are you doing here?"

Simona smiled, cocked her head to the side and reached out to give Mads an Italian double kiss. Mads noticed the underarm hair peeking out of Simona's blouse and in an effort to avoid physical contact, took a quick step back and barked,

"Wait! Why was my door open?!?"

"Madonna!, I had to leave it opens. Ferre was a lot of negativity that need escaping. I needed to relax myself. Particularly in my condition"

Mads look of annoyance prompted additional comments from Simona

"I'm being so proud of you!"

"Proud? Why?!?"

"Yes, We Can! Yes, We Can!"

"Uhhhh...Are you referring to Obama?"

"Yes, I Am! Yes, I Am!"

"Okay...Okay...I get it. But what does that have to do with me?"

"Because you and your peoples will electing him and he will make America the better!"

"Me and my people?!?!"

"Yes! Barak peoples! You should all standing together! Just like wif da Martin Luther King!"

"Barak people?....Oh...Ok....I get it. You mean BLACK People. It's B-L-A-C-K. They are two different words, cara mia."

"Oh dear..."

Simona looked up pondering the mistake and mouthed out the spelling while using her index finger to write the two words in the air above her*

Mads, whose patience had completely run out not only with Simona but with the European OBSESSION with Obama, sharply cut into Simona's not so intellectual moment

"So, listen. Can you tell me exactly why you are here, minus the political commentary?

"Yes, I can"

Mads at this point wanting to assassinate Obama herself, let out a sigh of annoyance that obviously got Simona's attention.

"Okay, Bellissima amica mia, you know when you have sending me a Christmas card and you have been wrote that if I ever needed you I could always be counting on your friendship?"

"No, not really"

"Well, that's why I brought it just in case you had been forgetting. See? It's here! Guarda!"

Damn! Mads had stupidly written those words 3 years before.

"Well, now I am needing your help. And I am not BLACK, B-L-A-C-K, but I'm still a friend. So remember what it is meaning to saying Yes, We Can!"

With a long blink and the nod of her head, Mads gave Simona the OK to continue.

"Allora, I'm in pregnant. With Zikulman's baby. He have asked me to marry him, but our new house wont be ready for another in 3 months and the house I'm living now isn't correct for my condition"

Mads was slowly digesting the implications of this. Now it was clear why Moody Mitch was in such a good mood and why Sinthia was spitting fire just minutes before. Everything was starting to make sense and Mads was finding herself in the middle of it all. And then Simona's final request hit like a gong 2 centimeters from her ears...

"Can we come for staying with you? Just until we can be moving onto our place?"

Mads head cleared astonishingly fast. There was silence and the room came back into focus. And with a voice as clear as a pistol firing in the desert she replied,

"No, You Can't!!"

* This event actually took place. I can't make this kinda stuff up...

He's So Cool

He was still at least two floors up, but the smell and smoke from his cigarette was already bitch slapping MAds in the face. She let out a little cough, just to clear her throat. Before she saw a face she heard his voice again,

" You are so pre-dic-table, you know."

Without even being able to get a remark off, Pierre Zikulman swung around the banister with a tilted head and a sly smile. He greeted MAds with a cigarette in hand and a delicate point in her direction, "I sink it was you zat brought zis re-vo-lu-tion of anti-smoke to Europe, wiz your Stupid little cough and Ugly dis-a-pro-val!....Am I bozering you?" The final words punctuated by a long drag on the newly lit fag.

MAds was about to Give The Speech but then decided that rolling her eyes and muttering an effective Whatever would suffice.

You see, Pierre Zikulman was that stereotypical Frenchman that has pretty much ruined it for all French people internationally. He was arrogant, self righteous, a little stinky, and always over eager to insult a person in the most mundane of circumstances. Having said that, he was also a very successful fashion photographer which allowed him to travel extensively and, unfortunately, perpetuate the stereotype on innocent and defenseless nations.

His success also allowed him the pleasure of beautiful residences in the top fashion cities in the world. My favorite is his eclectic flat in Milan. Dark and heavy like the winter fog or the summer heat...But with a punch of creativity and spirit that will always keep him and this city one step ahead of the rest. Combine this over exaggerated French ego-centric arrogant attitude with that level of style and you get this knockout apartment

AD Italia 2007

This room put him on the map. As with his photography your eye is shocked and drawn as if he is whispering in your ear where to look next. Its a maze and in some kind of complicated code you follow and are able to decipher the message and reach the end without any missed turns.

AD Italia 2007

As you can see Zikulman takes every opportunity he gets to showcase his work...and himself.

Elle Decoration Austria 2008

And his inspiration room is right out of left field. He claims the colour and vibrance take him to another level of creativity in the house. The other rooms just hint at what can be possible...He says that this one screams it.

Man, he is so cool.

But why is he back after such a long absence? Who called him and what does he want?...

Spiralling Out of Control

Previously on Cabella Place...

Moody Mitch, ex-husband of Sinthia, warns MAds of drama brewing in Cabella Place. MAds has no idea what to expect when she walks into the building, but figures it may have to do with Sinthia who has the penthouse apartment and is not exactly one to avoid controversy.

It could, however, also involve Madison, who although annoyingly perfect, not immune to skeletons hiding in her closet. But Madison is currently out of town working on her screenplay at her country house while attempting to avoid the watchful and sometimes perverse eyes of Mr & Mrs Franshpipal. Plus, the voices MAds hears are coming from the the top floor. One is definitely that of Sinthia, the other is distinctly familiar, but not recognizable.

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Daniel Schwabe

MAds Looks up the staircase hoping to get a glimpse of something. She is carrying a plastic shopping bag filled with groceries which is crinkling and crunching, making her spy/ninja walk completely useless.

Voices turn to screeches, doors slam and then the sound of footsteps and random mutterings reveal just exactly who is involved...

You'll See

Yesterday evening I saw Moody Mitch kinda skipping down the street. Confused, I took a closer look and noticed that he was not only skipping, but also grinning from ear to ear. As he approached he stopped in front of me, put his hands on his hips and leaned back with a cynical smile. So, you know, I took a photo. I mean, I've never seen the guy smile before and if he does become a famous artist, this could be just the thing I needed to jump start that savings account I keep talking about.

(Flickr Find)

His aura of happiness prompted my inquiry

"What's going on?"

"You'll see." Mitch replied overly satisfied and scooched past me to continue down the street.

I looked up at my gorgeous building to see if I could identify anything out of the ordinary.




Unable to reach a conclusion, and very curious at this point, I walked up to building's main entrance and unlocked the iron doors...




As I entered I heard voices. Voices that I recognized. Voices that spelled trouble.

Spin it

Mitch is a moody man. He calls himself an artist. Whatever. He's moody and he has a chip on his shoulder. He also thinks that a conspiracy lies behind everything. Some say that after 4 years of marriage to Sinthia he has become sullen and bitter. I say he's just a big fat baby who needs to be the center of attention, and when he's not, somehow the world is against him.

Anyway, now that he has got his own apartment, instead of 'Popping' he is the kind of guy that likes to create environments where nothing has more potential than the things or people around him. That way nothing in particular is ever expected of him and if, on the off chance, he does come up with something brilliant to say, it would stand out and chime. I guess that's why this room works so well for him...

(Elle Decor Italia Nov 2007)

Now don't get the impression that I'm anti-dark because I'm not. My good friend Jasmine does the dark thing and her place is great.

(Elle Decor Italia Sept 2007)

I mean, if Mitch weren't so busy being bitter, he could pull something off like this in his place too. Its all a matter of spinning things. In life and in decor.

(Elle Decor Italia Nov 2007)

Plus, don't forget that my inspiration room was way dark, and way inspirational.

The Diva

Sinthia, daughter of Mr and Mrs Franshpipal, has never been discreet. I know this because she lives 2 floors above me and has been known for her wild parties and wilder tantrums. She is loud and extravagant and she always makes it a point to stand out. No matter where she is or who she is with, she always seems to find a way to distinguish herself from others. She has never blended in with the background, but instead always 'Popped'. Yes, I guess you could say she has that 'Pop' factor to her that instantly makes her an interesting person. So interesting, in fact, that even though she can drive you up the wall at times, you still find yourself drawn to her.

Her home is the same. Each element is distinct and stands out from the others while continuing to work well with its surroundings.

(Bijou Kaleidoscope)

(Maison Francaise Sept 2007)

Aside from being a Popper, she has always been the kind of person who has said exactly what was on her mind. She is so hardcore, she doesn't even need to open her mouth to do this. She can just look at you, in that way, and the message is crystal clear. She got this strength from her parents...And that's just about the only thing she got.

Now I'm no geneticist, but I've seen enough episodes of CSI to know that if both of your parents are short, stubby and have heads full of black bushy hair, the likeliness of producing a tall, slender, blond-haired, blue-eyed child is not exactly high. Normally I wouldn't stick my nose into other peoples business, but I heard that when Sinthia was about 6 years old, a distinctive Swedish man came and took her away for an entire summer. Mr and Mrs Franshpipal claim that she had been away at a summer camp for 'gifted children', but I never bought that for a minute. I mean, everyone knows going away to 'gifted kids school' is just code for 'got knocked up and have to hide the baby'. And since she was only 6 years old at the time, Mr and Mrs Franshpipal really need to think about opening another family business because selling all that crack just isn't working anymore...

Built to Last

Across the way from Madison's beautiful country home live an elderly couple originally from France. Their names are Mr and Mrs Franshpipal and although in their mid eighties, both are as strong as mules. They are also guilty of consistently spying on Madison (hence the need to put up that great fabric). I wouldn't say that they were perverts, but I have on more than one occasion caught Mrs Franshpipal staring at a baguette in an uncomfortably disturbing way.



Anyway, Mr and Mrs Franshpipal moved to the Italian countryside just after the Second World War. Rumor has it that they bought the house with bars of pure gold that they had been hiding under their apartment building during the German occupation. Now I'm not one to speculate or gossip, but I heard that they hadn't actually retrieved what was theirs, but had instead stumbled upon the gold while trying to dig out (with their bare hands) a secret passage under their building. You see, from what I could gather, before the war they were as poor as poor could be and that tripping over the gold was no different than the 'Beverly Hillbillies' striking oil. I also heard that they had found no less than 20 bars of pure gold and that the two of them, using only their hands and their brute strength, lugged all those bars of gold in one single trip across the French border and into the Italian village where they still reside today.

I only mention this because now they are quite rich and with that money they have painstakingly restored their manor with all its original features and then some. Now I personally have only been in the front entrance which leads to the ground floor bathroom, and even those areas were no short of impressive.

They were exactly like this...

(Maison Francaise Sept 2007)

This dark and heavy wood and iron really portray Mr and Mrs Franshpipal very well. It is sturdy and planted like the old couple. It has also stood the test of time, something the Mr and Mrs know much about. But most importantly, it is also very secretive and mysterious. Behind all those strong and fortified exteriors you just know that there must be millions of secrets hiding. I mean honestly, how did they really get all that gold across the border on their own...?

In a land far far away...

...there is a really sexy girl...no, Woman...named Madison. She has long legs that never need to be shaved because God gave her the gift of great hair where she wants it and no hair where she doesn't. She is also super intelligent which allows her to have a high powered job that doesn't cause her any stress because she is insanely able to delegate, negotiate, manipulate and obliviate all obstacles. Plus, she is a killer dresser and has such an organized closet that she doesn't even need to plan outfits. She can just wake up 20 minutes before leaving, pull a couple of things out of the wardrobe and with a wash of the face and brush of the teeth she is ready to go. Oh! Silly me forgot to mention that she has such flawless golden skin and naturally rosed glossy lips that make-up is something she has never needed to bother with. And I didn't mention any hair routines because she has natural curls that just bounce bounce bounce.

Anyway, She has also got an amazing country house...No, seaside house...No, no, country house with a covered back porch that looks a lot like this...

(Elle Decor Italia June 2007)

She decided to string this wonderful fabric up for two reasons.

The first was that the windows were exposed to the neighbors who were desperately and constantly trying to get a peep at Madison's perfect body

And the second reason was that they were a reflection of herself. They were crazy and wacky in such a perfect kind of way.

Wow, That Madison sure has got style!