“I got dizzy! Wanted to throw up. Good thing I brought medicine; I took some very fast. I think Daddy felt sick too. I think the movie was good, but I’m not sure. FBI, too much action, got dizzy. I guess we have to sit in the middle next time. And at first we were the only two people in the theater. I thought what if someone comes in and robs us? But luckily more people came in later, a young couple. Maybe the 7:25 showing had more people later. The Shaw’s Market next to it was very nice, though. But parking was $11, and senior tickets $10 each.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going home.”
“And what we do then?”
“Well, we can play cars, if you like.”
“I love you!”
“What?”
“I love you!”
“Wow…that’s great….well, I love you too, what do you think about that?”
“Well, I love Spider-man, too.”
(His mother later explained, “He must really like you, because he really, really loves Spider-Man.” She paused to consider this. “Also the Transformers.”)
I mentioned I was dating again to my sisters, separately. Their reactions:
Sister 1 (in hopeful tone): Does this one read?
Sister 2 (in a resigned voice): Is he non-Asian?
Me: Yes, he’s half-Jewish.
Sister 2: What!?
Me: And half French.
Sister 2: Oh, he speaks French?
Me: Yes.
Sister 2: Oh, that’s OK then.
- Women who get on exercise bikes and apparently become so involved with what they’re reading that their legs barely move and the women don’t even break a sweat or look like they’re exerting themselves at all. It’s a GYM, not a library. And believe me, I’ve been to both enough times to know the difference.
- Women who are busy fiddling around with their iPods or texting on a phone or talking on the phone while they sit on a machine without actually using it. Meanwhile, I’m hovering around you like a stalker because I’m waiting for that particular machine. If your iPod requires so much attention, get off the machine and take care of it.
- Women and men who show up in jeans or khakis to work out. Why? Just…why? Buy a pair of sweatpants if you don’t feel comfortable in shorts. I’ve got like 20 sweatsuits at home; I’ll run home and get you a loaner. I just don’t want to see you in spinning class in your Dockers.
- People who don’t use deodorant. I don’t care whether you use it in your personal life, because I can choose to not stand near you or not date you. But at a gym…please use it. Because sometimes I have no choice about standing near you, and my nose hates you.
“Hey, have you seen my Tupperware container of dog chicken? I wanted to give the dogs a treat,” I said, peering into my parents’ fridge.
“No,” said my father, his standard response to all questions.
“Tupperware? No,” said my mother, who actually listens to questions.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly a Tupperware container…but one of those glass containers with a blue plastic lid on it?”
“Glass?” my mother said. “You mean the chicken bone?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t see it,” I said, moving things around in the fridge. “Chris cooked it for the dogs and gave it to me, and I put underneath the canned dog food, but it’s not here anymore.”
My mother turned on my father. “You said that was left over from yesterday!”
My father turned on my mother. “How was I supposed to know!”
My mother: “You should have told me that was dog chicken!”
My father: “But I didn’t know!”
My mother: “I knew we didn’t have leftovers! I asked you why there was a bone!”
My father: “I thought you left it!”
“Hey!” I yelled. “It’s no one’s fault; I didn’t tell anyone it was dog chicken. But where is it now?”
My mother turned glumly to the pot she was stirring. She opened the lid. The three of us stared inside the pot.
“I put it in the soup,” she said.
“You tell Chris he’ll never find anyone so good again,” my mother said.
“Why would I tell him that?” I asked. “Anyway, he can; it’s easy to get married to anyone these days.”
“No, I’m not talking about you, I mean me. He’ll never find another mother-in-law as good as me!”
My old standard: “Does he burp?”
My new standard: “OK, does he at least turn his head away when he burps?”
My mother’s old standard: “What kind of job does he have?”
My mother’s new standard: “Does he have a job?”
A bit premature, but here we go:
New Year (Death Cab For Cutie)
I received my latest phone bill today from AT&T. Two double-sided pages of charges and taxes, and then a third page that started:
Go Green and Make a Difference! Sign up for paperless billing and join AT&T in its efforts to be more earth-friendly and environmentally aware…
A few more sentences about how great it is to be green and go paperless, and then the rest of the page was blank, as well as the other side. Thanks, AT&T, for showing me the way!
Thursday morning: Slept in.
Thursday afternoon: Baked cake. Cleaned apartment in anticipation of meeting Cousin #1’s boyfriend who would be staying with Cousin #1 and #2 at my apartment. Boyfriend did not end up coming. Clean apartment possibly appreciated by cousins, but information unverified. Forgot to eat lunch.
Thursday night: Helped parents heat up various foods. Ate cake, red bean bun, and bowl of noodles prior to relatives arriving. Relatives arrived. Ate Thanksgiving dinner, including more cake and noodles. Watched cousins fall asleep on couch at 9pm.
Friday morning/afternoon: Cousins and I got up late. Ate breakfast, followed immediately by lunch. Went out to buy ingredients for cheesecake cupcakes. Baked cheesecake cupcakes, ate two each, then left house to meet other relatives for all-you-can-eat buffet.
Friday night: Dying from buffet. Played long game of Monopoly, during which we discovered no one knows the actual rules of Monopoly, accompanied by more snacks and cheesecake cupcakes.
Saturday morning: Got up late. Found out Cousin #2 had used my towel the previous day when she showered. Grossed out. In unrelated note, went to meet relatives for dim sum.
Saturday afternoon: Relatives went home, can finally skip a meal and take a nap instead.
Saturday night: Eating a salad. Oh, blessed greenery. Hmm, maybe I’ll have some cake after…
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