More Random Stuff

April 11, 2008 at 11:58 am (Dating, Family, Fauna Files)

1) Just now, from my private balcony at my office, I saw a TURKEY strutting its way through the woods. Wildlife audit at Nearby Women’s College so far: chipmunks, squirrels, sparrows, bluejays, cardinals, robins, a hawk, several deer (fawns, too!), a skunk, a racoon, and now a turkey. Will the donkey be far behind?

2) I have a date next week with a man from the internets. Will he bathe? Does he have all his teeth? Does he carry a hipflask of antibacterial gel? Stay tuned.

3) A certain small sister has finally updated her blog. Check ca.

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Last Sunday and the Small Sister, Aouf!

January 17, 2008 at 1:27 pm (Family)

La Belle Helene is a married lady now!  I can hardly believe it!  Also unbelievable is the almost complete absence of family drama, goat mouth, or evil, neither Greater nor Lesser.

La Belle Helene was not a Bridezilla at all.  The booze was free-flowing.  The kids were adorable.  Everyone danced up a storm, especially Brother Ephraim (flashbacks to Basement Flashlight Disco Inferno!).  TenFeet and Cory hustled like the best big-haired Brooklyn hoofers from Saturday Night Fever.  It was AWESOME.

You should have been there, if only to see me in a big blue dress.

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From the Old Maid of Honor

January 9, 2008 at 11:11 am (Family)

For La Belle Helene: The Cavalcade of Bad Bridal Fashion.

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Tanta Claus Give Me a Baby Doll

December 21, 2007 at 10:57 am (Family)

Married To The Sea
marriedtothesea.com

One Christmas, many, many years ago, our relatives in Trinidad sent us an audiocassette of their Boxing Day celebrations.  I was a small child at the time, La Belle Helene did not exist, SuperFudge was a newborn,  and her older sister, SuSu, was probably around 2 years old.

After proudly declaring “Tanta Claus give me a baby doll,” SuSu rocked out her rendition of the traditional Spanish Christmas Carol:

“Police never glad, Police never glad, Police never glad.  I want to wish you a Merry Christmas from my bottom and my heart.”

Merry Christmas from my bottom and my heart, everyone.

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It Just Occurred to Me

December 20, 2007 at 12:02 pm (Family)

La Belle Helene has stolen my house!  How’d that happen?  And my mother stole La Belle Helene’s house and is fleeing the state with the proceeds.

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Balthazar Primero, Melchior, Caspar

December 18, 2007 at 2:38 pm (Family)

Today is my father’s birthday.  It was a tradition in my family, since my father was born a week before Christmas (hence his childhood nickname of Joy), to put up the tree on his birthday.  My mother would spend the time making pastelles while we hung ornaments and listened to parang records. As kids, we would bounce back and forth between the living room and the dining room, offering help to each team until we got bored. (Pastelles require a sweatshop, really. And the sad thing is that we never got to eat them the day we made them. We always had half the batch on Christmas and froze the other half for New Year’s).

Since my dad died, the tradition has changed somewhat. For the past two years, we’ve had a real tree thanks to the influence of Basie. Technically, I don’t even live there anymore; so I doubt I’ll be making a contribution to the Christmas preparations. (Bonus, I will be treated as a guest when I visit, which means I can sit on the furniture!) My mother’s been in Florida for the past 2 weeks and I don’t think she’ll be up for Pastelles Sweatshop after her flight this evening.

Today is also Basie’s birthday. So, he and La Belle Helene can start implementing a new Christmas tradition. I suspect it will involve many cookies.

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Thanksgiving for One

November 23, 2007 at 11:09 am (Family)

For the first time in my life, I celebrated Thanksgiving toute seule.  When the prospect of a singular Thanksgiving first occurred to me, weeks ago, I thought it would be incredibly lonely.  I tried to organize a dinner party for my friends who would be stuck in the city, but, as it turned out, all of my friends were traveling home to be with their families.

TragicCrusade and I had made tentative plans, but even before the break-up I’d convinced him that it was not a good idea for me to become known to his family as “that woman who kept their son away from them on Thanksgiving,” especially since Thanksgiving was something of a high holy day to them.

In fact, it was not lonely at all.  That TragicCrusade and I have reached some kind of understanding definitely contributed, otherwise I would have been crying and drunk-dialing everyone in my phonebook.  It was nice to wake up whenever I wanted to, to eat/cook whatever I wanted, to watch whatever I wanted, and to clean up (or not) whenever I wanted.

I did manage to have some traditional foods: hot italian turkey sausage and roasted sweet potatoes.  I was supposed to have had salad as well, but I discovered that, in my emotional confusion over the past few days, I’d put the mixed greens in the freezer, not the crisper.   Alas, there was no pie, because I’d eaten the leftover pie I stole from the company luncheon the day before for lunch and dinner.  Don’t judge me.  Some people use wine; I use pie.  Party Cake ice cream comes in close second.

So, this was the first Thanksgiving where I didn’t have to wake up early and help chop vegetables.  The first in which my mother didn’t browbeat me into watching the parade.  The first where we didn’t get into an argument over the serving platters.  The first where I didn’t have to be surrounded for hours by the smell of food, finally to sit down and ravenously attack a plate of tasty victuals.  The first where I didn’t have to roll my spare tires down the basement steps to play Playstation away from the tedious grownups.  (If any of you suggests that I have become a tedious grown-up, I might get violent.  See gun entry below).

I woke up late.  I watched movies (Sherrybaby and Dial M for Murder).  I ate peanut butter and banana sandwiches for lunch and breakfast.  I napped.  I wrote in my journal.  I napped.  I spent most of the day in my nightgown.  I asked my drunken neighbors across the hall not to stand in front of my door to smoke and talk loudly about their wives’ episiostomies, since both the smoke and the conversation go straight into my apartment.  I went online and researched a fun new thing I discovered my body can do.  I napped some more.  I talked to my mother on the phone.  I did not watch one second of football.

It was a very happy thansksgiving.

Tonight I fly out to meet my family and my sister’s soon-to-be in-laws.   I don’t relish flying during Thanksgiving weekend, but I will do anything for La Belle Helene.  Besides, her fiance’s family is nice, and his mom is a fantastic cook.  I hope they saved me some pansit and coconut rice.

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In Other News

November 7, 2007 at 3:03 pm (Family)

I received a very elaborately constructed, tastefully colored, artfully printed, skillfully glued, multipart invitation in the mail on Tuesday.   Looks like my little sister really, really is getting married–in 66 days, according to her wedding website!

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Peaceful

September 25, 2007 at 1:24 pm (Family)

Granny died this morning in her sleep.  She was 93 years old.  It was peaceful.

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Facing the Dark Lord

July 19, 2007 at 4:20 pm (Family)

Inspired by MamaAss’s response to my comment, I am writing about my own Dark Lord what I must needs face this weekend: I-95.

Yes, fans, I will be hitting the highway, all the way to sunny Florida.  The prospect of driving for 18 hours is exciting, but it also fills me with dread.  Longtime readers should recall my predilection for crashing my car.  I think, however, if I manage to get out of NYC, I’ll be all right.  All of my accidents (okay, there were only two, but each resulted in substantial damage) have been in the Bronx.  I have to remind myself that I’ve driven to Philly twice, once to Boston, once to DC, and once from Birmingham to Tuscaloosa, all without incident.

Many people have asked me why I am not flying to Florida.  First of all, it’s expensive.  SuperFudge and I can drive down and stay at a hotel for less than the cost of two flights.  But, I also feel that this trip is a rite of passage of sorts.   This is a trip my father regularly made.  In fact, he became so proficient at it that he would drive those 1100 miles straight, without overnighting in the Carolinas.   I feel most connected to my father when I’m driving, and after his death I took on his role as the family chauffeur.  In doing this trip, I’m becoming an official adult member of my family.

Godsfeet, I’ve become so grown up lately: full time job, car, apartment, date, and now a road trip to Florida.  What’s next, dentures?

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