Hey Everybody,
Please go visit my mom over at Wendy From Encore and wish her a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! She's about a million now. Juuuust kidding.
YAAAAAAAY!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMY!
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Posts
16 years ago
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, December 08, 2008
Spoons is very serious business
My father's side of the family has a long and painful tradition of playing Spoons. Never played Spoons? Here's a quick list of rules from familyfun.com:
HOW TO PLAY:
1. The object is to collect four cards of one kind (four twos, four kings and so on) and not to be the person left without a spoon. To begin, place the spoons (one fewer than the number of players) in the center of the table within grabbing reach of all players. Each player is dealt four cards. The dealer keeps the deck.
2. The dealer picks a card from the deck and then discards one card from his hand, sliding it facedown to the player to his left. That player takes it, then picks one card from his hand and passes it to his left.
3. Each player in turn does the same, as quickly as possible. Each person should have four cards in his hand at all times. The player to the right of the dealer places discarded cards in a pile to his left to be used by the dealer when the original deck is used up.
4. Play continues until one player has four of a kind, at which time he takes a spoon from the pile. He may steal the spoon surreptitiously, continuing to pass cards until someone else notices. Or he may grab his spoon, creating a mad rush for spoons at the table.
5. The player left without a spoon has lost the round. If you like to keep score, that player is given an S. As players spell S-P-O-O-N, they are out. The player left at the end is the winner.
----------------------------------------
We play with two decks of cards, but other than that it's the same. Do you have a general idea of how the game works now? Excellent.
My family gets very very serious about it. When I was eleven years old I witnessed my aunt and uncle wrestle each other to the ground over a spoon. A week and a half after their wedding.
Seth and I went up to visit some of my family up in Boston this past weekend and because it was absolutely FREEZING outside, I suggested we all play on Saturday night. Seth had never played with my family before, so I thought it would be a good learning experience. It was also the first time that the baby of the family was allowed to play with the adults.
A list of injuries:
-A small chunk of my right index knuckle is probably still somewhere on their kitchen table.
-My uncle ended up with quite a bit of table under his fingernails.
-I lost the feeling in my pinkie for about an hour after pulling a spoon out of my uncle's hand.
-Baby cousin (who was also the first to get S-P-O-O-N), kept getting her fingers smashed.
-A bruise on my shin because I accidentally hooked my leg around my chair.
-Etc.
Who knew a card game could involve so much pain?
Also? I love my family. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Spoons Card Game
Few cards serve up the kind of excitement that are part of every game of Spoons. | WHAT YOU NEED: | |
 | Deck of cards |
| Spoons (one less than # of players) |
HOW TO PLAY:
1. The object is to collect four cards of one kind (four twos, four kings and so on) and not to be the person left without a spoon. To begin, place the spoons (one fewer than the number of players) in the center of the table within grabbing reach of all players. Each player is dealt four cards. The dealer keeps the deck.
2. The dealer picks a card from the deck and then discards one card from his hand, sliding it facedown to the player to his left. That player takes it, then picks one card from his hand and passes it to his left.
3. Each player in turn does the same, as quickly as possible. Each person should have four cards in his hand at all times. The player to the right of the dealer places discarded cards in a pile to his left to be used by the dealer when the original deck is used up.
4. Play continues until one player has four of a kind, at which time he takes a spoon from the pile. He may steal the spoon surreptitiously, continuing to pass cards until someone else notices. Or he may grab his spoon, creating a mad rush for spoons at the table.
5. The player left without a spoon has lost the round. If you like to keep score, that player is given an S. As players spell S-P-O-O-N, they are out. The player left at the end is the winner.
----------------------------------------
We play with two decks of cards, but other than that it's the same. Do you have a general idea of how the game works now? Excellent.
My family gets very very serious about it. When I was eleven years old I witnessed my aunt and uncle wrestle each other to the ground over a spoon. A week and a half after their wedding.
Seth and I went up to visit some of my family up in Boston this past weekend and because it was absolutely FREEZING outside, I suggested we all play on Saturday night. Seth had never played with my family before, so I thought it would be a good learning experience. It was also the first time that the baby of the family was allowed to play with the adults.
A list of injuries:
-A small chunk of my right index knuckle is probably still somewhere on their kitchen table.
-My uncle ended up with quite a bit of table under his fingernails.
-I lost the feeling in my pinkie for about an hour after pulling a spoon out of my uncle's hand.
-Baby cousin (who was also the first to get S-P-O-O-N), kept getting her fingers smashed.
-A bruise on my shin because I accidentally hooked my leg around my chair.
-Etc.
Who knew a card game could involve so much pain?
Also? I love my family. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Relatively Easy
Seth has a crazy painting deadline this week, so he asked me if I would come over and help him out with some stuff and I agreed. One of these helpful things includes cooking, so last night I made Martha's Casserole, a staple of my childhood. (It's also handy because there are lots of leftovers and you don't have to worry about cooking for a while.)
I don't know why the damn thing is so tasty. It's incredibly white-trash and simple, but people love it. And it's really really cheap.
Here's the recipe (in my mother's words):
Martha's Casserole
Boil 8 ounces of wide egg noodles. Cook a pound of hamburger until it's brown. Mix in two 8 ounce cans of tomato sauce. (Drain the hamburger first, otherwise things get a little greasy.) Mix 8 ounces of cottage cheese, 8 ounces of soft cream cheese, and about a quarter cup of sour cream, then mix in one bunch of chopped green onions (use part of the green, too, and trim off the tops and the first layer of skin). Put half the noodles in a casserole (the size I usually use, whatever the hell that is), then put the cream cheese mixture on top. Put the rest of the noodles on top of that, and then the meat mixture on top of THAT. Melt a quarter stick of butter and pour it over the top, then stick it in a 350 oven (don't forget to preheat) for 20 minutes.
Note: I learned last night that any size casserole dish will do. I got all worried because Seth didn't have the size I normally use and I was convinced that the whole thing would be screwed up. I was wrong. I also accidentally used 16 ounces of noodles rather than eight. It's still tasty. I'm eating the leftovers now. Apparently this dish allows a lot of room for error.
(I just reread the recipe and realized that the wording is a little wonky. If anyone wants a better worded version, let me know) ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
I don't know why the damn thing is so tasty. It's incredibly white-trash and simple, but people love it. And it's really really cheap.
Here's the recipe (in my mother's words):
Martha's Casserole
Boil 8 ounces of wide egg noodles. Cook a pound of hamburger until it's brown. Mix in two 8 ounce cans of tomato sauce. (Drain the hamburger first, otherwise things get a little greasy.) Mix 8 ounces of cottage cheese, 8 ounces of soft cream cheese, and about a quarter cup of sour cream, then mix in one bunch of chopped green onions (use part of the green, too, and trim off the tops and the first layer of skin). Put half the noodles in a casserole (the size I usually use, whatever the hell that is), then put the cream cheese mixture on top. Put the rest of the noodles on top of that, and then the meat mixture on top of THAT. Melt a quarter stick of butter and pour it over the top, then stick it in a 350 oven (don't forget to preheat) for 20 minutes.
Note: I learned last night that any size casserole dish will do. I got all worried because Seth didn't have the size I normally use and I was convinced that the whole thing would be screwed up. I was wrong. I also accidentally used 16 ounces of noodles rather than eight. It's still tasty. I'm eating the leftovers now. Apparently this dish allows a lot of room for error.
(I just reread the recipe and realized that the wording is a little wonky. If anyone wants a better worded version, let me know) ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
When I was fifteen or sixteen years old my high school held a voluntary trip up to SUNY Oswego so we could "experience college life." Girls thought, "Oh my God! College Guys!" And guys thought, "Sweet! College girls!" And a lot of us also thought, "Hooray beer!" This trip was to take place on a Thursday and Friday, so on top of everything else we would be missing two days of school. Almost the entire grade convinced their parents to let them go on this trip. "We want to see what college classes are like and learn about the application process! We really, truelym desperately want to talk to people who have been where we are now! Our attendance on this trip has nothing to do whatsoever with our desire to attack attractive and older people, nor does it have anything to do with our desire to drink illegally!" We all batted our eyelashes very well.
During the one night we stayed up there very few of us slept, two guys got so stoned they were falling into things, and we drank a lot of beer. (Well, a lot then. I think a guy named Jimmy topped out at three beers and threw up. We were fifteen! Maybe sixteen! Give us a break!) Other NYC public high schools (the private school sect tends to shy away from public universities) were also invited on this excursion, so our pool of potentially attractive people shot up remarkably. A bunch of us were sitting in a dorm room talking when one of the girls, from one of these other schools, while slightly drunk, decided to address the group with a serious inquiry.
"Do you want to go to a urban school or a woo woo school?" Confused glances were exchanged between myself and the other people she was addressing.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Do you want to go to an urban school or a woo woo school?"
"I..." I paused. "A what?"
"Woo woo! Woo woo! I can't say it right!" She looked upset with herself.
Someone else finally ventured a guess. "Do you mean rural?"
"Yes! Woo woo! That's what I meant!" At which point we all dissolved into giggles. Poor girl.
I got home the next day, absolutely exhausted and damning myself for making plans to go to a rave that night. But I was a raver, and a lot of people I knew were going to be at the party, so I got dressed up in a very silly outfit, far too much plastic jewelry, and about a pound of glitter. (I spent most of my time from the ages of 12-16 absolutely fucking COVERED in glitter. ::barf::) I got to the party at about ten and by eleven thirty I was all tuckered out. So instead of going home like I should have, I simply found a nice corner and went to sleep. At a rave. With music so loud most people were wearing earplugs. But oh no, I just went, "Well this looks nice! I think I'll just curl up...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"
I bring all this up because last night my friend Matty and his roommate Jim threw a movie watching extravaganza on their roof. We watched an episode of The Real Ghostbusters cartoon, followed by Ghostbusters, followed by Ghostbusters II. It was really really awesome. I announced to Matty and Jim early on in the evening that I was crashing on their couch because while I only live a ten minute walk away, it is not a ten minute walk I should be taking at one in the morning. Because eek! Scary! So halfway through Ghostbusters II I excused myself to pass out on the couch. I woke up at seven this morning to Matty going, "Sarah! It's seven am, my alarm didn't go off!" (Dude has to be at work ridiculously early.) I gathered my things while he got ready and he goes, "Dude, Sarah. You were OUT last night. We had like twenty people in the apartment and you didn't wake up at all. I kept saying, 'guys, there's a girl asleep on the couch!' and they kept saying, 'She's not awake.'" Because I can sleep through anything.
The reason for this is because when I was growing up, and my parents were invited to a party, babysitters were expensive. So rather than get one, they would simply drag me along for the ride. When I got tired I would go up to one of them and tug on their shirt and say, "I'm tired!" At which point they would direct me to a corner, give me their coat to sleep on and let me sleep. Which I would, quite happily. I have vague memories of being carried out of parties (as a child, people! Come on!) and waking up to say things like, "Oh, are we leaving?" And then waking up in my own bed in the morning. I was actually trained by my parents to be able to sleep through anything. Which might explain my inability to work with alarm clocks. I hear them, but it's just so much easier to keep sleeping. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
During the one night we stayed up there very few of us slept, two guys got so stoned they were falling into things, and we drank a lot of beer. (Well, a lot then. I think a guy named Jimmy topped out at three beers and threw up. We were fifteen! Maybe sixteen! Give us a break!) Other NYC public high schools (the private school sect tends to shy away from public universities) were also invited on this excursion, so our pool of potentially attractive people shot up remarkably. A bunch of us were sitting in a dorm room talking when one of the girls, from one of these other schools, while slightly drunk, decided to address the group with a serious inquiry.
"Do you want to go to a urban school or a woo woo school?" Confused glances were exchanged between myself and the other people she was addressing.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Do you want to go to an urban school or a woo woo school?"
"I..." I paused. "A what?"
"Woo woo! Woo woo! I can't say it right!" She looked upset with herself.
Someone else finally ventured a guess. "Do you mean rural?"
"Yes! Woo woo! That's what I meant!" At which point we all dissolved into giggles. Poor girl.
I got home the next day, absolutely exhausted and damning myself for making plans to go to a rave that night. But I was a raver, and a lot of people I knew were going to be at the party, so I got dressed up in a very silly outfit, far too much plastic jewelry, and about a pound of glitter. (I spent most of my time from the ages of 12-16 absolutely fucking COVERED in glitter. ::barf::) I got to the party at about ten and by eleven thirty I was all tuckered out. So instead of going home like I should have, I simply found a nice corner and went to sleep. At a rave. With music so loud most people were wearing earplugs. But oh no, I just went, "Well this looks nice! I think I'll just curl up...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"
I bring all this up because last night my friend Matty and his roommate Jim threw a movie watching extravaganza on their roof. We watched an episode of The Real Ghostbusters cartoon, followed by Ghostbusters, followed by Ghostbusters II. It was really really awesome. I announced to Matty and Jim early on in the evening that I was crashing on their couch because while I only live a ten minute walk away, it is not a ten minute walk I should be taking at one in the morning. Because eek! Scary! So halfway through Ghostbusters II I excused myself to pass out on the couch. I woke up at seven this morning to Matty going, "Sarah! It's seven am, my alarm didn't go off!" (Dude has to be at work ridiculously early.) I gathered my things while he got ready and he goes, "Dude, Sarah. You were OUT last night. We had like twenty people in the apartment and you didn't wake up at all. I kept saying, 'guys, there's a girl asleep on the couch!' and they kept saying, 'She's not awake.'" Because I can sleep through anything.
The reason for this is because when I was growing up, and my parents were invited to a party, babysitters were expensive. So rather than get one, they would simply drag me along for the ride. When I got tired I would go up to one of them and tug on their shirt and say, "I'm tired!" At which point they would direct me to a corner, give me their coat to sleep on and let me sleep. Which I would, quite happily. I have vague memories of being carried out of parties (as a child, people! Come on!) and waking up to say things like, "Oh, are we leaving?" And then waking up in my own bed in the morning. I was actually trained by my parents to be able to sleep through anything. Which might explain my inability to work with alarm clocks. I hear them, but it's just so much easier to keep sleeping. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Thursday, April 03, 2008
An update of sorts
I do want to update. I'm sitting at the computer thinking "What the hell am I going to write?" And only one thing has occurred to me, so here it is:
I recently discovered that two of my uncles and one of my aunts are on Facebook. I am not friends with them, and neither are their children. My aunt has one friend and the uncles each have a handful including Seth. (Which I think is funny because, awww, Seth likes my family and vice-versa! Yay!) I don't think I am going to become Facebook friends with them because there are far too many pictures of me on there doing, um, let's say "unladylike" things. (These things include but are not limited to: playing a drinking game in my bra, my first experience with a beer bong, grabbing my own boobs, and drunkenly kissing two of my best friends. Did I mention being drunk? Because...yeah.) Needless to say, these are not things my uncles and/or aunt need to see.
But the real question for me is: Why are they on there in the first place? We are talking people in their 40s and 50s here. Are they networking? Trying to keep up with youth culture? Spying on their children? Bored? I am honestly curious. I do not understand. Hell, I don't even understand why I'm on Facebook half the time. (Actually, that isn't true. I am on Facebook so I can find people I went to elementary school with and say things like, "I knew she would be a lesbian!" or "YOU GOT SO FAT. HA HA HA!" Because I'm a bitch like that.)
So can anyone explain to me why they are there? Does anyone else have older family members on Facebook? Is up down and left right? I need answers! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
I recently discovered that two of my uncles and one of my aunts are on Facebook. I am not friends with them, and neither are their children. My aunt has one friend and the uncles each have a handful including Seth. (Which I think is funny because, awww, Seth likes my family and vice-versa! Yay!) I don't think I am going to become Facebook friends with them because there are far too many pictures of me on there doing, um, let's say "unladylike" things. (These things include but are not limited to: playing a drinking game in my bra, my first experience with a beer bong, grabbing my own boobs, and drunkenly kissing two of my best friends. Did I mention being drunk? Because...yeah.) Needless to say, these are not things my uncles and/or aunt need to see.
But the real question for me is: Why are they on there in the first place? We are talking people in their 40s and 50s here. Are they networking? Trying to keep up with youth culture? Spying on their children? Bored? I am honestly curious. I do not understand. Hell, I don't even understand why I'm on Facebook half the time. (Actually, that isn't true. I am on Facebook so I can find people I went to elementary school with and say things like, "I knew she would be a lesbian!" or "YOU GOT SO FAT. HA HA HA!" Because I'm a bitch like that.)
So can anyone explain to me why they are there? Does anyone else have older family members on Facebook? Is up down and left right? I need answers! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Monday, March 31, 2008
A Weekend Away and Various Other things
If, like me, you are too broke to fly or take the train to major cities on the East coast, then you have to rely on buses. I would love to take the Train absolutely everywhere, but train tickets tend to start around the $100 mark, while buses start at about ten. So there we are.
I have now taken the Chinatown bus to Philly, to Boston and to Washington, DC. Here is a rundown:
The Boston <---> NYC Chinatown bus is lovely. It's cheaper than Greyhound, gets you there faster, and I have never once had to share a seat with a woman and her child who have been on the bus since somewhere in California. On top of everything else, it now drops you off exactly where the Greyhound does. It's a win win situation.
The Philadelphia <---> NYC Chinatown bus is kind of...meh. It's relatively quick (after all Philly is only about 2 hours away), but the smell. Holy GOD the smell. The bathroom reeks, people bring on all different kinds of stinky food and it smells awful. Other than that, no complaints.
But holy shit. The DC <---> NYC Chinatown bus is mindblowingly terrible. This is a trip that should take 5 hours at most. But noooo...both going down and coming back up this weekend I was on a bus for well over six hours. Man that sucks. The particular company I was using, Tony, seems to do everything in their power to get their buses full. So on the NYC side there are three stops to pick people up, and on the DC side there are at least two, plus a stop in Baltimore, plus pulling over to pick a random person up on the side of the road. I am not joking. So while I plan on going back to DC in the not too distant future, I do not plan on using that bus company ever again. Ever. Holy God. Oh, and it was the only bus out of the three that made me actually fear for my life. I thought on more than one occasion that we were going to roll over and die. Effing awful.
Other than the horrible bus rides, my weekend was spectacular. I got closer to my family. Confirmed my fears about a thirteen year old girl, and got free sushi. Pretty sweet, huh? Crap she's tall. And redheaded. And such a teenager. Sc-a-ry.
In other news it was the first time in a long long time that more than half of the eleven grandchildren were together in one place. So that's...something. Right?
In other other news: I got my first anonymous comment! And it's MEAN. Which means that strangers (or perhaps just people who hate me) are reading the blog. Yay! Please see my last post (Guess what! I still hate clogs. and Crocs) to view the comment. Aren't people just the nicest?
So thank you, anonymous poster. Please feel free to stop by anytime. Kisses! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
I have now taken the Chinatown bus to Philly, to Boston and to Washington, DC. Here is a rundown:
The Boston <---> NYC Chinatown bus is lovely. It's cheaper than Greyhound, gets you there faster, and I have never once had to share a seat with a woman and her child who have been on the bus since somewhere in California. On top of everything else, it now drops you off exactly where the Greyhound does. It's a win win situation.
The Philadelphia <---> NYC Chinatown bus is kind of...meh. It's relatively quick (after all Philly is only about 2 hours away), but the smell. Holy GOD the smell. The bathroom reeks, people bring on all different kinds of stinky food and it smells awful. Other than that, no complaints.
But holy shit. The DC <---> NYC Chinatown bus is mindblowingly terrible. This is a trip that should take 5 hours at most. But noooo...both going down and coming back up this weekend I was on a bus for well over six hours. Man that sucks. The particular company I was using, Tony, seems to do everything in their power to get their buses full. So on the NYC side there are three stops to pick people up, and on the DC side there are at least two, plus a stop in Baltimore, plus pulling over to pick a random person up on the side of the road. I am not joking. So while I plan on going back to DC in the not too distant future, I do not plan on using that bus company ever again. Ever. Holy God. Oh, and it was the only bus out of the three that made me actually fear for my life. I thought on more than one occasion that we were going to roll over and die. Effing awful.
Other than the horrible bus rides, my weekend was spectacular. I got closer to my family. Confirmed my fears about a thirteen year old girl, and got free sushi. Pretty sweet, huh? Crap she's tall. And redheaded. And such a teenager. Sc-a-ry.
In other news it was the first time in a long long time that more than half of the eleven grandchildren were together in one place. So that's...something. Right?
In other other news: I got my first anonymous comment! And it's MEAN. Which means that strangers (or perhaps just people who hate me) are reading the blog. Yay! Please see my last post (Guess what! I still hate clogs. and Crocs) to view the comment. Aren't people just the nicest?
So thank you, anonymous poster. Please feel free to stop by anytime. Kisses! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Saturday, March 22, 2008
On being afraid of a thirteen year old girl
If for some reason you didn't know: I have a large, weird family.
I'm not very close with my mother's side of the family, because she was an only child and no one (except for her first cousin who lives with her and drives her nuts) lives near New York. But my father was one of five. And everyone had children. So I have (bum bum bum baaaaaaaah....) ten first cousins. Not to mention the fact that everyone is cousin, whether they are second or fourth or seventy-seventh. Freakishly huge family. Seriously.
ANYWAY...
I am the oldest of my generation (all eleven of us)*. By almost exactly six years. My parents had me and then no one else got around to having children for another six years. After those six years, people kept popping out boys, so it was not until July 14th 1994 that I finally got a girl cousin. I am going to see this girl cousin for the first time since she was eleven in a few weeks and I am scared. Absolutely fucking terrified. And it is for quite possibly the stupidest reason in the world: My itty bitty baby girl cousin is now taller than I am.
I have finally gotten used to the boys being taller than me, I have even accepted the fact that they are teenagers. (When they aren't being dicks about it.) But baby girl cousin? Who was a child approximately ten minutes ago? Hold up. No no no no no. I think it plays on the fears I mentioned in this post, namely that HOLY SHIT I'M GETTING OLD. And also - Gah! I was the biggest and the strongest for so many years. I am used to being smaller than everyone, but not everyone that I spent so much time being bigger than! Blah.
My aunt apparently shares (or at least understands) my fear about these people getting taller. A couple of months ago she wrote me this in an e-mail (about her three children):
Bill** is taller than me, by at least 2", which has the strange affect of changing our relationship. If he says no to me about something I simply comply because otherwise he could hurt me. Quite simple, law of the land and all. Brawn trumps brain. Tots** too is springing forth, disturbingly. Emerald** remains shorter than you.
My grandmother, on the other hand, continues her unwavering sunny outlook on the subject:
You'll just have to remember that you have age, wisdom, and experience on your
side, and all your younger cousins look up to you mentally, even if they are looking down physically..
I suppose it's a pretty good way of looking at things.
But seriously? I really ENJOYED being the biggest!
*On my branch of the family. My grandmother was one of four and all of THEM had children, which is where I get second cousins.
**names have been changed. (Well DUH. No one names a kid Tots)
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I'm not very close with my mother's side of the family, because she was an only child and no one (except for her first cousin who lives with her and drives her nuts) lives near New York. But my father was one of five. And everyone had children. So I have (bum bum bum baaaaaaaah....) ten first cousins. Not to mention the fact that everyone is cousin, whether they are second or fourth or seventy-seventh. Freakishly huge family. Seriously.
ANYWAY...
I am the oldest of my generation (all eleven of us)*. By almost exactly six years. My parents had me and then no one else got around to having children for another six years. After those six years, people kept popping out boys, so it was not until July 14th 1994 that I finally got a girl cousin. I am going to see this girl cousin for the first time since she was eleven in a few weeks and I am scared. Absolutely fucking terrified. And it is for quite possibly the stupidest reason in the world: My itty bitty baby girl cousin is now taller than I am.
I have finally gotten used to the boys being taller than me, I have even accepted the fact that they are teenagers. (When they aren't being dicks about it.) But baby girl cousin? Who was a child approximately ten minutes ago? Hold up. No no no no no. I think it plays on the fears I mentioned in this post, namely that HOLY SHIT I'M GETTING OLD. And also - Gah! I was the biggest and the strongest for so many years. I am used to being smaller than everyone, but not everyone that I spent so much time being bigger than! Blah.
My aunt apparently shares (or at least understands) my fear about these people getting taller. A couple of months ago she wrote me this in an e-mail (about her three children):
Bill** is taller than me, by at least 2", which has the strange affect of changing our relationship. If he says no to me about something I simply comply because otherwise he could hurt me. Quite simple, law of the land and all. Brawn trumps brain. Tots** too is springing forth, disturbingly. Emerald** remains shorter than you.
My grandmother, on the other hand, continues her unwavering sunny outlook on the subject:
You'll just have to remember that you have age, wisdom, and experience on your
side, and all your younger cousins look up to you mentally, even if they are looking down physically..
I suppose it's a pretty good way of looking at things.
But seriously? I really ENJOYED being the biggest!
*On my branch of the family. My grandmother was one of four and all of THEM had children, which is where I get second cousins.
**names have been changed. (Well DUH. No one names a kid Tots)
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Thursday, March 13, 2008
Buffkaboo
When I was in the 4th grade I wrote a story called "Buffkaboo the Magic One". I do not remember what this story was about, but I remember that I wrote it and that I was pretty damn proud of it at the time. A couple of days ago I got an e-mail from my grandmother:
Dear Sarah,
So my grandmother is sending me my fourth grade masterpiece. I completely convinced myself that when I got home today it would be in my mail box. And then it wasn't. And I was sad, because my original plan was to post the story in its entirety in this entry, instead of just being all, "woo, yeah! Fourth grade me RULED!"
Basically, sometime in the next few days I will be posting Buffkaboo and it will be wonderful.
Okay? Okay! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Dear Sarah,
I was rummaging through some old files, searching for something for
Paddy, when I came across a remarkable piece of literature: a short
story written by you in 4th grade (dated March 23, 1994) titled
"Buffkaboo, The Magic One." It is hilarious, and I think it should be
kept safely in your possession, perhaps waiting for inclusion in your
first volume of Collected Works.
Paddy, when I came across a remarkable piece of literature: a short
story written by you in 4th grade (dated March 23, 1994) titled
"Buffkaboo, The Magic One." It is hilarious, and I think it should be
kept safely in your possession, perhaps waiting for inclusion in your
first volume of Collected Works.
So my grandmother is sending me my fourth grade masterpiece. I completely convinced myself that when I got home today it would be in my mail box. And then it wasn't. And I was sad, because my original plan was to post the story in its entirety in this entry, instead of just being all, "woo, yeah! Fourth grade me RULED!"
Basically, sometime in the next few days I will be posting Buffkaboo and it will be wonderful.
Okay? Okay! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Friday, February 29, 2008
20 Years Ago Today
Happy Leap Day! You know, that weird extra day we get every four years? (There are various rules about this, 2000 wasn't a Leap Year because it's a century marker and divisible by four. Or something.) Right. It's today. And it was on this day twenty years ago that my parents decided "Oh what the hell! We have a three and a half year old, let's get hitched!" Actually, as the story goes it was all my grandmother's idea, but that's another story entirely.
My parents decided to have a cheapie wedding because in 1988 we didn't have a lot of money. So they invited friends and family and everyone else who wanted to come along, dragged them all to City Hall, and then dragged them all back to our tiny two room apartment for a party. (I believe the biggest extravagance at the reception was shrimp cocktail that my mother prepared in advance.) I've been to many weddings (I was a flower girl in every family wedding including my parents and I have a huge family and my friends keep getting married) but my parent's always holds a special place in my heart. For starters, it is always referred to as "Our Wedding" because I stood in between them as they exchanged their vows. And also because it was more about celebrating their union than showing off. They didn't do anything fancy and the entertainment came in the form of my father, uncles, and cousin playing guitar, harmonica and singing. It was no frills and everyone had a great time. And, on top of everything else, because they got married on Leap Day at City Hall, it was covered by the news. When they asked my parents why they decided to get married on Leap Day my father replied, "Because it's cheaper! You only have to do something every four years!" Classy.
He kept his word, though. On my parent's first and second anniversary's they threw huge parties. My mother would make these fancy invitations on the computer and send them out in large envelopes. Most of the people who had been at the original wedding would come back to party all over again. The food would be better because my mother would have more time to prepare and my father would make a spice cake with cream cheese frosting. My parents knew how to throw a really awesome party.
Sorry to blather, but I'm thinking about all this because I got an e-mail from my grandmother today which ended with this:
Today is leap year day. Your parents got married 20 years ago, and
what a memorable event that was! I wonder if your 3-year-old memory
was able to keep any of it.
While I don't remember all of it, I do remember a lot more than I think most three year old children would. And I'm happy about that. But it's a mixed thing. Next month marks the six year anniversary of my father's death. I wonder what my life would be like if things hadn't gone down the way they did. I wonder if my parents would still be together right now. If so, we are missing out on one hell of a party. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
My parents decided to have a cheapie wedding because in 1988 we didn't have a lot of money. So they invited friends and family and everyone else who wanted to come along, dragged them all to City Hall, and then dragged them all back to our tiny two room apartment for a party. (I believe the biggest extravagance at the reception was shrimp cocktail that my mother prepared in advance.) I've been to many weddings (I was a flower girl in every family wedding including my parents and I have a huge family and my friends keep getting married) but my parent's always holds a special place in my heart. For starters, it is always referred to as "Our Wedding" because I stood in between them as they exchanged their vows. And also because it was more about celebrating their union than showing off. They didn't do anything fancy and the entertainment came in the form of my father, uncles, and cousin playing guitar, harmonica and singing. It was no frills and everyone had a great time. And, on top of everything else, because they got married on Leap Day at City Hall, it was covered by the news. When they asked my parents why they decided to get married on Leap Day my father replied, "Because it's cheaper! You only have to do something every four years!" Classy.
He kept his word, though. On my parent's first and second anniversary's they threw huge parties. My mother would make these fancy invitations on the computer and send them out in large envelopes. Most of the people who had been at the original wedding would come back to party all over again. The food would be better because my mother would have more time to prepare and my father would make a spice cake with cream cheese frosting. My parents knew how to throw a really awesome party.
Sorry to blather, but I'm thinking about all this because I got an e-mail from my grandmother today which ended with this:
Today is leap year day. Your parents got married 20 years ago, and
what a memorable event that was! I wonder if your 3-year-old memory
was able to keep any of it.
While I don't remember all of it, I do remember a lot more than I think most three year old children would. And I'm happy about that. But it's a mixed thing. Next month marks the six year anniversary of my father's death. I wonder what my life would be like if things hadn't gone down the way they did. I wonder if my parents would still be together right now. If so, we are missing out on one hell of a party. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Sunday, December 30, 2007
I figured out how to write in Hindi, and Seth's head did not explode.
So I've figured out how to write in Hindi, thought I still have no idea why Blogger might decide that writing in Hindi is something I might need to do.
सी? हिन्दी हिन्दी हिन्दी। आईटी'एस अमजिंग। इ कैन जुस्त दो थिस। होली सहित। ऎंड आईटी ट्रांस्लातेस एवेर्य्थिंग बेक इन्तो इंग्लिश, एक्स्सप्त फॉर आईटी दोएस आईटी फोनेतिकाल्ली। हिलरिऔस्।
Translation:
sii? hindii hindii hindii। aaeetii'yes amajing। i kain just do this। holii sahit। nd aaeetii traanslaatesyeverything bek into inglish, yekssapt phor aaeetii doyes aaeetii phonetikaallii। hilariaus.
AKA
See? Hindi Hindi Hindi. It's amazing! I can just do this. Holy shit. And it translates everything back into English, except for it does it phonetically. Hilarious!
Yeah..so that's fun.
Seth, my mom and I went to Boston. It was A BLAST. I have far too many cousins. I was talking to my cousin Nora, (She's maybe my 3rd cousin or something...3rd cousin once removed? Something.) , who is getting up there in years and I said, "Oh man, we must have like five hundred cousins!" And she responded by saying, "No...wait..." then she paused "Yeah, five hundred seems about right." Basically my family is HUGE.
And I was so proud of Seth. Seriously. We were getting ready in one of the upstairs rooms and he finished before me because he's a boy and they get ready faster.
"I'm going downstairs!" he said.
"Aren't you going to wait for me?"
"No! This is an adventure!"
He jumped in head first. He talked to EVERYONE. He even seemed to have a great time doing it! If I was confronted by his entire family all at once I would sit under a table and cry. I saw cousins I hadn't seen in years! I figured out how people were related to me, which was exciting. My cousin Kate and I walked around going, "We're first cousins once removed!" We were very excited about the whole thing.
And we stayed we stayed with my aunt and uncle and all exchanged Christmas gifts. Their youngest child, an amazing ten year old girl, gave me a teddy bear in a box she made herself out of wood and nails and puffpaint and leather. It's ridiculously cool. When Seth and I went to see them during Thanksgiving weekend she asked me if I had a teddy bear. I told her I did not. She told me that a) everyone needs a teddy bear and b) that she was going to get me one for Christmas. And that's exactly what she did. The box was just an added bonus.
In short: my family RULES. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
सी? हिन्दी हिन्दी हिन्दी। आईटी'एस अमजिंग। इ कैन जुस्त दो थिस। होली सहित। ऎंड आईटी ट्रांस्लातेस एवेर्य्थिंग बेक इन्तो इंग्लिश, एक्स्सप्त फॉर आईटी दोएस आईटी फोनेतिकाल्ली। हिलरिऔस्।
Translation:
sii? hindii hindii hindii। aaeetii'yes amajing। i kain just do this। holii sahit। nd aaeetii traanslaatesyeverything bek into inglish, yekssapt phor aaeetii doyes aaeetii phonetikaallii। hilariaus.
AKA
See? Hindi Hindi Hindi. It's amazing! I can just do this. Holy shit. And it translates everything back into English, except for it does it phonetically. Hilarious!
Yeah..so that's fun.
Seth, my mom and I went to Boston. It was A BLAST. I have far too many cousins. I was talking to my cousin Nora, (She's maybe my 3rd cousin or something...3rd cousin once removed? Something.) , who is getting up there in years and I said, "Oh man, we must have like five hundred cousins!" And she responded by saying, "No...wait..." then she paused "Yeah, five hundred seems about right." Basically my family is HUGE.
And I was so proud of Seth. Seriously. We were getting ready in one of the upstairs rooms and he finished before me because he's a boy and they get ready faster.
"I'm going downstairs!" he said.
"Aren't you going to wait for me?"
"No! This is an adventure!"
He jumped in head first. He talked to EVERYONE. He even seemed to have a great time doing it! If I was confronted by his entire family all at once I would sit under a table and cry. I saw cousins I hadn't seen in years! I figured out how people were related to me, which was exciting. My cousin Kate and I walked around going, "We're first cousins once removed!" We were very excited about the whole thing.
And we stayed we stayed with my aunt and uncle and all exchanged Christmas gifts. Their youngest child, an amazing ten year old girl, gave me a teddy bear in a box she made herself out of wood and nails and puffpaint and leather. It's ridiculously cool. When Seth and I went to see them during Thanksgiving weekend she asked me if I had a teddy bear. I told her I did not. She told me that a) everyone needs a teddy bear and b) that she was going to get me one for Christmas. And that's exactly what she did. The box was just an added bonus.
In short: my family RULES. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Thursday, December 27, 2007
No Bruises
So I did not end up going to ride the mechanical bull. This is probably for the best. I doubt I would have been able to walk today. And my exhaustion ended up getting the better of me today which resulted in me sleeping until almost eleven. I was supposed to be at work at 9:30am. Oops.
This weekend Seth and I are going to Boston for my uncle's 50th birthday party. I'm looking forward to it but am a little worried that Seth's head might explode once confronted with about five gazillion people who have known me since I was born. I hope his head doesn't explode, I'm fond of it.
I realized this weekend how awesome/odd my family Christmas traditions are. I always sort of assumed that everyone had the same sort of Christmas. I was mistaken. Seth had never before witnessed the wonders of lighting a plum pudding on fire and then singing to it. He had also never experienced my mother climbing to the top of our stairs, looking out at the Christmas tree and saying, "Well, I do believe this is the prettiest tree we have ever had." I just learned that this is a tradition passed on by my great-grandmother. I think it's a nice one and I plan on passing it on to my children should I ever have any. I also think it's true. No matter how ridiculous it looks, the current Christmas tree is always the best looking because it's the one that's going to hover over your presents on Christmas morning. Actually, this year it really was true. Our tree was bigger, fuller, and less ridiculous looking than it has been in years. It is a truly magnificent evergreen.
On that note, I am going to go cook some dinner. Oh, and Tigerlily, incase you are wondering: I'm having perogies.
OH - Speaking of cooking! I got a SALAD SPINNER for Christmas and I am so excited that I no longer have to shake off or smush my lettuce with paper towels. I'm embarrassed by how excited the Salad Spinner made me, but I don't care. I'm in love with it. And at least it's not a Salad Shooter.
KBYE
Edit: Okay, so dinner is actually popcorn shrimp from Popeyes and rice and beans from the place on my corner.
I'm tired :( ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
This weekend Seth and I are going to Boston for my uncle's 50th birthday party. I'm looking forward to it but am a little worried that Seth's head might explode once confronted with about five gazillion people who have known me since I was born. I hope his head doesn't explode, I'm fond of it.
I realized this weekend how awesome/odd my family Christmas traditions are. I always sort of assumed that everyone had the same sort of Christmas. I was mistaken. Seth had never before witnessed the wonders of lighting a plum pudding on fire and then singing to it. He had also never experienced my mother climbing to the top of our stairs, looking out at the Christmas tree and saying, "Well, I do believe this is the prettiest tree we have ever had." I just learned that this is a tradition passed on by my great-grandmother. I think it's a nice one and I plan on passing it on to my children should I ever have any. I also think it's true. No matter how ridiculous it looks, the current Christmas tree is always the best looking because it's the one that's going to hover over your presents on Christmas morning. Actually, this year it really was true. Our tree was bigger, fuller, and less ridiculous looking than it has been in years. It is a truly magnificent evergreen.
On that note, I am going to go cook some dinner. Oh, and Tigerlily, incase you are wondering: I'm having perogies.
OH - Speaking of cooking! I got a SALAD SPINNER for Christmas and I am so excited that I no longer have to shake off or smush my lettuce with paper towels. I'm embarrassed by how excited the Salad Spinner made me, but I don't care. I'm in love with it. And at least it's not a Salad Shooter.
KBYE
Edit: Okay, so dinner is actually popcorn shrimp from Popeyes and rice and beans from the place on my corner.
I'm tired :( ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Pooped
I. Am. Exhausted.
Christmas was, as always, absolutely wonderful, but it took a lot out of me. All I want to do is go to bed, but apparently I am supposed to ride a mechanical bull tonight. This can only end in tears. And bruises.
I was amazed by my family and the fact that they did not get me anything completely useless and horrifying. My grandmother made me the most amazing dragon out of pipe cleaners. It is honestly the coolest gift I have ever received. I want to take it with me everywhere, but unfortunately it is fragile.
And Seth spent it with us! And got to spend more time with my grandmother and we played scrabble and it was all around wonderful.
I love Christmas.
I want to go to bed. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
Christmas was, as always, absolutely wonderful, but it took a lot out of me. All I want to do is go to bed, but apparently I am supposed to ride a mechanical bull tonight. This can only end in tears. And bruises.
I was amazed by my family and the fact that they did not get me anything completely useless and horrifying. My grandmother made me the most amazing dragon out of pipe cleaners. It is honestly the coolest gift I have ever received. I want to take it with me everywhere, but unfortunately it is fragile.
And Seth spent it with us! And got to spend more time with my grandmother and we played scrabble and it was all around wonderful.
I love Christmas.
I want to go to bed. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves
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