So excited for my first spread that came out in the September issue of Front Row Monthly Magazine. I had so much fun doing this shoot! The threads, the hair, the make-up, the team – it was all so fun and everything turned out AMAZING. I am so happy to have worked with Shaylee Capatolla, Gina Caruso Hussar and their team at FRM. Make up done by Bethany Montecalvo and photos done by Keith Bloom II. Thank you all for such a great FIRST spread, there shall be many more to come.

Check me out on page 10 of Front Row Monthly Magazine. xx

1.  I was born on 9/11 – too good to be true, truly.

2. I am suppose to be a Virgo but if you read the description of a Virgo, I don’t have many characteristics.  Which gives me slight anxiety because I now feel lost in the world of astrology.  Not the feeling I wanted at 25.

3.  For fun, I like to turf my back yard or local golf courses.  I find this destruction amusing and childish.

4.  I either have selective hearing and ADD or I just don’t pay attention to you because you’re boring. And that’s not my fault, but I will blame it on selective hearing to make you feel better.

5.  I’ve said it before and I will say it again, I love corndogs and just because it’s an odd, sexual shape and there are 2 ingredients that should have never been brought together; doesn’t mean it’s not one of the best things ever.  Throw some Heinz on that bish.

6.  It has been said by a valuable source that I am lazy this lifetime because I once lived in the middle ages and I raised 11 kids. Because I bred so many kids and had a huge, gorgeous family, this source told me that I feel I deserve to live in leisure this lifetime. I totally agree with this leisure talk, though I do feel like I was a black man at one point, in some lifetime.

7.   I still pick my nose, I prefer the right index but sometimes use my pinky.  I know each and everyone of you do it too. Don’t lie.

8.  My awards and recognitions are few and far between, but one of them is the biggest bullshitter award in my high school class.  I have yet to show for any of this. I still get in trouble, I still get yelled at and I still take consequences.  This has gotten me no where.

9.  I study the stock market almost every day and I read articles and keep myself updated on the economy, but sometimes everything just doesn’t register. (Does this surprise you?)  When I get into conversation I throw around big words like derivatives and commodity exchanges when I should just stick to words I know; Bull and Bear.

10.  I once beat up a girl while the song, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” was playing.  I now picture myself running up the mountains in the cold tundra with this song in the background. Like Rocky but only different.

11.  Is my favorite number. Know this.

12.  I am sorry if I have ever screamed in your ear or have interrupted you while you were talking.  I think I have hearing problems and to myself, I think what I have to say is more important. We’re not all perfect.

13.  I’m starting to think I am a product of the long-term effects caused by Nitrous.  With all of the cavities I had and the intake of Nitrous used to keep me from going animalistic on the dentist, I think it’s finally causing me side affects.   (See how I used effects in one sentence and affects in another.  Just to save myself some grace)

14.  I maybe the only woman I know who enjoys whiskey on the rocks. It’s a gentlemen’s drink, I take pride in this.

15.  One trip to the Hamptons, I once was asked if I needed to see a doctor because I lost my voice, like it doesn’t already sound like a man – he then proceeded to ask me if I was a transvestite. Coming from the little punk who was working valet.  You’re not paid to talk, you’re paid to park, buddy.

16. I am dying to name an animal of mine Billy the Kid.  Either a turtle or goldfish.

17.  Does anyone else get nervous about washing their face? Is it normal to think there is man behind you going to attack you right when your bending over to wash your face? Is this ok? Should I medicate myself or talk to someone about this?

18.  When I was working at DASH for the show Kourtney and Khloe’ Take Miami, I once told a customer she had a camel-toe.  Apparently, this is not appropriate when talking to customers. I was just being honest, holy cow.  We were on Washington Street in Miami Beach not the Champs Elysees in Paris.

19.  Still to this day, watching my father call P.Diddy a prick to his face was one of the greatest moments of my life.  These are the footsteps I aspire to follow.

20.  Let’s cut the bullshit, I think the I need my own talk show. I truly believe I can entertain everyone on a daily basis and I would be a better person because of that.  Knowing that people are laughing at me and on a special occasion with me, would make me a happy person.  This world could use a few more happier people.

Bob Marley has been an internationally known figure and legend for decades, with fans in all colors, shapes, ages, sizes and classes.  Marley, known to be a revolutionary artist was awarded Jamaica’s Order of Merit, which is the nations’ third highest honor. This goes to show how much of an impact Marley had on  people and culture in itself. He will continue to be a symbolic artist for many generations to come.

With all of this said, being able to meet the very blood relatives whom carry on the legacy of Bob Marley; was an unforgettable experience.  Special thanks to my dear friend (R.E.) who always knows how to hook it up.  The first night we kicked it around the table in Damien’s villa laughing and telling life stories till wee hours in the morning. Stories of his father, Bob, childhood memories and crazy Jamaican nights.  (See, all of the artistically talented people work all night, into the mornings – just how they function.)   It was beyond fascinating.  I just sat there, laughing, smiling and internally taking in the person I am really sitting across from.  This is Bob Marley’s son!  With dreadlocks down to the floor and the face of his fathers’, he was just as down-to-earth as any rasta-mon would be. By the end of our night/normal people’s mornings, we all didn’t want to leave the laughter but I was falling asleep and thankfully, we were invited to the show the next night.

The show was in Ventura, California, which was a nice hour and a half drive up the coast.  We grabbed some tacos at this little town’s local Mexican restaurant – you know, totally movie scenario. After tacos, we arrived at this old, little theater – very historic but a well-built facility where we directly headed towards the entrance.  …Duh, any good backstager knows never to go in the main entrance.   Naturally, Damien recognized my girlfriend and I from the previous night and provided us with backstage passes. When I tell you the whole entire Marley family was backstage, I mean the whole entire Marley family was backstage.  It’s truly amazing how solid their family values are.  It’s not even a family, it’s a freakin herd of Marleys. Clan, Pack, Troops – whatever you want to call it – it’s phenomenal.  I want a pack of Gnazzos just like this, an Italian family who roams in herds.

When both, Stephen and Damien performed on stage it was a magical feeling. Together, they took over the crowd, especially when playing a few of Bob’s tracks.  They sounded almost identical to him and they’re energy on stage was so very powerful.

Cut up time:   there was this WILD chick who looked totally out-of-place at a reggae show standing in the first row.  Unfortunately, she was in eye-sight of me as I looked into the crowd.  She was about 20-something, tight sparkly shirt (go figure) with short blonde hair and earrings that might have been an assault weapon. Boy was she a good one to laugh at; screaming, crying, grabbing herself, grabbing others. Jumping up and down like Jesus Christ was standing in front of her. Legit crazy broad, you would have thought with all of the funk in the air she would have been a little calmer…

The whole weekend was an event I will never forget.  I cherish memories and experiences like these and will continue to do more super cool shit. Not gunna lie.

The MTV Movie Awards were an interesting experience.  First of all, I am very happy I went and was able to see, first-hand, how this operation works but if I am not presenting an award; I probably won’t attend ever again.  It is not only a hassle but a hustle too.  The hassle of trying to get in, the chaotic mess they considered lines and the wild broads releasing they’re inner savage.  I can’t deal with lines and waiting outside of doors and such – I will for a minute but after that, I’m out.  Finally after getting in, we stole some seats towards the back, but after a few commercials; I got super impatient I was missing all action in the front.  Of course, I weaseled my way to the front and ended up seating myself right behind the whole cast of Twilight.  Can I even begin to tell you how much of a Twihard I am?  BUT! I will say, MTV really played out Twilight, a little too much.  The show itself was quite disappointing and disturbingly sexual.  The crotch grabbing by Mila and Justin was just inappropriate as well as many other comments that were definitely “R” rated.   I get humor and I can take dirty of the dirtiest jokes, but a lot of it was just stupid.   Though, I did enjoy the jokes about MTV not being music television anymore and the insults about their awful reality show, “16 and Pregnant.”   I won’t even get myself started on that show but this pretty much sums up my experience. MTV was cool at one point, I have credible memories but next time – I hope it’s the Oscars.

When it’s mandatory to strap on a helmet before going go-karting, you know it is about to get serious.   My friends and I took advantage of such behavior and let loose the inner child in us. We drove ourselves to the valley to participate in veteran style go-karting, we even had to watch a pre-video to prepare us for such a wild ride. Lapping 14 times in the race and I think I ended up 4th.  Which is fine, no other female beat me and that is satisfying in itself.  The snacks were amazing – a whole bag of chips and a Smart Water for $3.00.  So we ended up spending all of our cash on chips and Smart Waters.  Great deal!!!  All in all, I needed that feeling of childhood and go-karting is one of the best ways to re-live that feeling.

I just wanted to let YOU know what the hell is going on around here.  I have decided to take my blog to further levels, well I tried to on my own and as you can see it turned out to be a DISASTER.  Comps 101 did nothing for me.   Thankfully, I am having a team work with me on getting a more professional website up and running.  The address is officially www.jacquignazzo.com.   I will continue to blog regardless of the catastrophe I created. Bare with me.

Ever since I started my blog, I have written about my father, my sister, family, friends, etc…but I never sat down and told anyone how amazing my mother is.  With her birthday (May 30th) is near, I wanted to write something for her to show her how blessed I am to have her and express my gratitude… and hopefully this will exempt me from a present. (Just kidding)

Having children is the most selfless act any woman can do and when my mummy had my sister and I, she gave up her whole life for us.   Starting when we were just little monsters,  she devoted her life to raising us with love, guidance, strength, security and encouragement.   My mother put  her children first no matter what – whether it was minor inconveniences or huge, long-term liabilities. Which I still am debating if I am that long-term liability.  For example, waking up at the crack of dawn to drive us to Starbucks before school or quitting her job at Xerox to raise us hands-on; minus a few Opare girls. It’s the principality, she put us first no matter what.  Well, minus the time she skipped my Conformation for a trip to England <—- I will let that slide.

Some people can sit here an argue that being a house-wife is effortless and insignificant, but when you raise kids and maintain a household like Car did, it’s a full-time job.  Nonetheless, do you know what it was like raising two individuals such as my sister and I? You don’t want to. We were so bad as kids. Put it this way, I was constrained by a leash, yes, I was one of those kids and I wouldn’t go ANYWHERE without my sister. All in public, I would cause temper-tantrums if I wasn’t in eye-sight of my sister at all times, I would throw myself on the ground and scream as loud as I could until I got my way.  Not much has changed.   My poor mother and the feeling of embarrassment to the 10th power  – I could only imagine.

My mom  taught us all the right things in life, how to be strong, how to carry ourselves with grace and class, how to forgive, how to depend on our faith and most of all – how to love.   She has the best influence and guidance any child could ask for in a Mother. She is borderline Mother Theresa, no joke.  My friend’s call her just for advice and to talk about life with ‘Aunt Car.’  She has the answers to everything, the “I told ya sos’ come way to often in our conversations.

Mummy, I want to thank you for raising us the best that you possibly could and still continue to be a solid rock for Lauren and I.  You have now taken on the role of a father and a mother and I am so blessed to have such a saint for a Mom.

I also want to thank you for getting me out of my PSSA testings in highschool, letting me skip 6th grade CCD to be with my friends, endless trips to Starbucks, still dragging me around the kitchen while I sit on your foot, giving me ‘happy day’ presents and not getting mad when I invite the bar over for after-hours.

On a serial note, I hope I am HALF the mother as you are to me… one day. With all my love,  (Insert all and any ridiculous nicknames you have for me here).

before I was on drugs

It’s been one week since I have moved from the Burgh to the city of Lost Angeles. Though I am not completely lost and  roaming around like a total nomad, I literally feel like a baby animal I would watch on the Animal Planet.  You know, one of those documents about infant animals maturing and fleeing from the mothers – yep that’s me.  If your going to use visual method to compare me, I would prefer some sort of good-looking mammal opposed to a bird or reptile.  But, I have had major success with daily LA obsticles….except for that one night.

First, does it surprise anyone that my first place ever would be a Pent House?  I actually have to press the PH button on the elevator – saaaweeeeettt.  ….My first job ever was reality television? I must be doing something right in life.  My roommate, Natalie, is a chick from London I met one wild weekend in Miami through mutual friends.  Weird how stuff works out like that.

The first night I arrived, Maura and I dipped out to Santa Barbara for two nights with a bunch of friends that have a house up there.  That was an excellent kick off to my move, SB is absolutely gorgeous and so very quaint. 

Since I have been back, I have been furnishing my apartment; going to antique stores, the flea market is amazing and random furniture stores on Melrose and La Brea. I never knew I would love French antique furniture and vintage Victorian pieces AND I am obsessed with wooden hangars. I seriously was on a wooden hangar rampage. Mad woman on aisle 6 going crazy over wooden hangars.

But of course it wouldn’t be complete if something tragic didn’t happen.  So Saturday night, Nat and I met up with a few friends of mine who had a table at Roxbury (a newer Hollywood hotness).  A great night happened to get on the downward spiral train after my lips turned white and I started to profusely sweating like I had been in the steam room for hours.  Ugh, there goes my mascara…

Being a Pittsburgh girl I can handle my shit, trust me, I have been in this night life game for a while and can most certainly hang like a big girl.  Though I was completely aware of what was going on, my body was not.  My boys rushed me out of the club with my roommate where I then found myself sitting in my new kitchen drugged up on my new chair in my new apartment.  I couldn’t control my body, lifeless I sat there with lips as pale as the walls, sweat like that of the Niagara falls and my make up looked like a clown. Next thing you know I was surrounded by eight pretty good looking men (from what I recall) asking me questions:  “What’s your name?” they asked and I mumbled, “Jacquelyn Leigh Natalia Gnazzo.” Of course I had to add my Confirmation name?  ”Do you know where you are?”  - “I’m in the penthouse,” I whispered.  Because that was a totally necessary response.?.  … I was sent to the ER to detox and get hydrated under professional supervision because at that point, it was the smartest idea. There it was detected that methamphetamine was in my system, like Meth, like fucking Crystal Meth. I don’t know who dropped it on me, I don’t know when it happened but all I remember it one second I was kosher and then it hit me like a ton of bricks.   Out of the 11 years of partying I have never been drugged nor do I ever want to be again, obviously.  I don’t even know how one could become addicted to such a disgusting habit. I would rather live my life as a garbage man than to be in a state like that.

Thank God Natalie acted fast, fulfilled her duties as good roommate and was on her A game. She was a trooper and an angel that was sent to protect me.      …Lesson learned – everyone is shady. Unfortuantely, you can’t trust too many people around you. A perfect STRANGER drugged me up without hesitation, for what? A good time? Some entertainment? To rape someone? He’s a winner.

But I did run into James Gandolfini last night at the market. He hollered at me- and I am ok with that.

at the hospital at 7 a.m. ugh and there was hot doctors too - and I looked like THIS!

It was the Monday right after my 25th birthday weekend, I had three that month and this was the final round of welcoming myself  to the age of 25. Half way to 50, ughhh.  Though I had an unbelievable weekend of rocking out at Teddy’s, dinners at Katsuya, hills parties and boppin around at my friends’ studios; I had to get home to tend to Cash’s hurt leg.   Which meant I had to wake up at 6 a.m. Tuesday  morning to haul ass to the vet in Ohio – total 180 from being in Hollywood. 

Getting to my story, I had a flight home on the infamous, unreliable, most absurd airline in the history of aviation, USAir. I approached LAX significantly on time which is very unusual for me. I am one of those last-minute, only-have-time to grab a NYTimes, 2 gossip, 1 fashion and some mentos and a cut in line to get on the plane kinda girl.  …Well, USAir decided not to inform me of the 8-hour delay they pulled together last-minute and I was stuck at the airport for hours. …Up until my homegirl (literally, from the 6th grade) picked me up and went to Venice for the day.   Hours went by and I got dropped back off at the airport, went through ‘sakuurty’ and journeyed off onto my plane with no hassle – only to find out they put me on the very, very, VERY last row, right smack in the middle of two, not  too skinny people.  SERIOUSLY USAIR?? On a 5 1/2 hour flight? How kind of you.  Right as misery masked all over my face a lady had offered me her row 14 - aisle seat, in act of true wifemenship in order to sit with her husband.  This lady was my angel, Jesus Crist himself sent her to me, I know it. 

I gather my traveling staples and excitedly moved to row 14, behind me I hear a ‘yo, babygirl you wanna sit in the middle.’  I turned around with the intent to have mad attitude, until I recognize Master P looking down at me.   For those who are not familiar with the old-skool rapper and owner of No Limit Records – he was a true artist of the 90′s.  I then died inside and sat down in the middle seat and proceeded small talk with him.

After a good 10-minutes I couldn’t hold it in anymore, I confessed that I grew up to his 1997 album Ghetto D and his song: was currently the song that would play if I turned my car on.  He looked at me like I was a total joke and asked where I was from?  I replied with the most typical whitegirl response, ‘ummmm like the suburbs of like Pittsburgh called ummm Wexford!”.  Master P, impressed, looked down at me and smiled and said, “damn, boo you must know your shit.”  We chit-chatted off and on throughout the red-eye flight;  until the layover in Charlotte.  Of course I got his contact information, but at this point in my life and career (if that’s what you call it ) I have no reason to get ahold of Master P, or anyone from No Limit Records for that matter.

Why he was sitting in coach I have no idea? No Limit must not be makin the hits anymore, but nonetheless it was a memorable and humourous flight home from LA.