One, Two, Three

Fio is ecstatic. When she went to Target to pick up the copy of Lucifer's first season she had ordered on line the night before, she encountered a young woman from Poland behind the counter who was kind enough to teach her how to say "Hello" in Polish. So, Fio's first joy was Lucifer, and her second joy was czesc. Fio's third joy was outside the store, when she realized the barriers were down on the roads and construction work to the west of Target. Not a single person was on the site so ever-curious Fiorella drove down it, noting the wide boulevard, the curbs, the unearthed rocks that she could sneak back in and pick up later, and--oops--the sudden drop-off just over the drop to the river.

It was the rule of three again.

Always Wondering, Always Pondering

Fiorella's abiding trait is curiosity.  She wants to know about people, about languages, about how the world works, about everything.  That's why she's constantly analyzing relationships.  That's why she's learning Mandarin from her dentist and a helpful RWA chapter mate.  That's why she reads science news and keeps up with current events.  That's why her eyes and ears are always open and receiving.

And she spouts it all out in her romance novels. 

Cringe-worthy

The dumbest thing Fiorella ever did was satisfy her vulgar curiosity about the inside of the neighbors' house, gaining entry by using the key they had given her in case of emergency.  She thought the family was away on vacation so what harm could come of it?  Except that they weren't on the open highway heading toward a fun time for all--they were out getting groceries, and they came home while Fiorella was in the back bedroom.  There was only one thing Fiorella could do: waltz out into the hall, meet them with a big smile on her face, and say, "Oh, I thought you were on vacation and I was making sure everything was okay," hand them back the key, and walk out the front door.

Writing about this mortifying memory is  Fio's attempt at exorcism, but, sad to say, she didn't learn her lesson--she's still unremittingly curious.  Yes, she'll check out the medicine cabinet if she uses your bathroom. 

The Human Question

Why are people born with talents in art and music?  Why are people driven to create stories great and small?  Why are people curious about how the universe works?  Why do people decorate themselves and everything around them?  Why do they kill each other?  Why do they perform heroic deeds of self-sacrifice?

And why does Fiorella ask questions like this rather than chomp on a tasty piece of grass out there in the meadow?