Originating during the mid 19th century, the Mafia served as protection for the
large orange and lemon estates surrounding the city of Palermo. From this,
the
Mafia began to spread its roots among the landowners and politicians of
Sicily.
Forming strong links with the government (it is more than likely
that many
politicians were members or collaborators) the Mafia gained
significant power.

According to many Sicilians, the real name of the Mafia is Cosa Nostra, meaning 'our world, tradition, values'. Many have claimed, as did the Mafia turncoat Tommaso Buscetta, that the word mafia was a literary creation. Other Mafia defectors, such as Antonio Calderone and Salvatore Contorno, said the same thing. According to them, the real thing was "cosa nostra". To men of honour belonging to the organisation, there is no need to name it. Mafiosi introduce known members to other known members as belonging to "cosa nostra" (our thing) or "la stessa cosa" (the same thing). Only the outside world needs a name to describe it, hence the capitalized version of the words: Cosa Nostra.

But I didn't go to europe anyway so I didn't go to the house of mafia.

But I went to Pn. Cecilia's house though btw.

Wheeeeeee. That day was supposed to be a special day. When a few of the belian guys were about to shoot open some heads as a gang.

But Pui Yean was there when The Sicilian asked me to help her with her com. Curse my bravado and my good nature. If Pui Yean wasn't there I might have lied till the earth bended again. Tch.

Thanky anyway Yean for helping me with the Nostalgia crap again.

So there I was in her car at 1:40 without having to ride in the booth la.

In the car we had:

1. Pn. Monica(talking)
2. Pn. Cecilia(driving AND talking)
3. Rebecca (Pn. Monica's daughter)(clamming)
4. Me (clamming and sweating)

So after we got Pn. Monica her monitor and sent her home it was time to make the SUPER long trip to USJ home of the sicilian.

On the way there I kept reassuring her that she was doing me a favour by keeping me out of the cyber cafe and that she could help me with moral all the way.

The sicilian likes music.

The sicilian's ancient piece of hardware.
A larger view of her room.
A view of the floor.

Anyway the buissness was her com was bellyaching from the lack of hard drive space.

5 gigs total does not make a hard drive these days. It makes a ipod.

After explaining to her the many many methods of solving her "real estate" problem with analogies of coffe tables houses shelves and desks she understood the situation.

I've gotta ask her soon which did she go for...

Getting a new cupboard.

Getting a larger coffe table.

Or getting another shelf on the cupboard.

Then she drove me back from USJ in the super heavy rain while thanking me and insisting she'd take me to yumcha and discussing sejarah techniques and moral techniques too.

The drive back was pretty scary.

Cause it was raining so hard I wondered how she saw where we were going to begin with.

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There are no photos of any other parts of the house because the gracious host refused to let me take any photos to begin with all the pics were taken when she went to go settle something.