Thanksgiving was fun. More than even I anticipated. I might note that even though half the family is in a strict religion, at least they�re not uptight ones. They�re not the holier than thou types, which I despise.
Good thing because our family talks about a lot of things every time we get together: farts, butts, boobs, and making babies. Thanksgiving is no exception:
The usual jokes are: �What�s that smell?� asked innocently, of course, when someone thought they smelled, say, pumpkin pie or turkey.
�I farted..� that would be my Uncle Nat. I think he�s obsessed with bodily functions as is my daughter Jackie.
Those kind of jokes are rampant at every family gathering.
Later, my Aunt Lori asked Uncle Nat to fix my Santa on my tree. He was crooked because I�m too short to fit him up there nicely. Uncle Nat made Santa�s hat point straight up, and Aunt Lori commented that it looked like a �(rhymes with election)�!
I was mortified. Grandma�s mouth just sort of dropped open on that one.
Nicole, my cuz/sis showed me her beautiful ruby/diamond engagement ring. I�m so glad she�s marrying Corey, who�s an old-fashioned, card carrying Southern Baptist, who�s the opposite of Nicole�s father Darwin. Darwin was the abusive pig-man uncle that I lived with for 8 years. Corey is so protective and sweet about Nicole, and she deserves someone who treats her well.
I�m glad to see that she didn�t think all men had to be the way her father is.
Nicole brought her mongrel Chow Chow dog, which, this time, did not sit on my Mums. I told �Grace� the dog that if she messed up my flowers she�d be earmuffs.
She complied. I guess she remembers how upset I was when she sat on my mum and killed it the last time she visited.
Well, Jackie had a field day. She had men to climb over all day, and she got lots of attention, which she promptly gobbled up. She did flips off of Uncle Nat, and treated Uncle Dan and Corey to smelling her feet. She found that hilarious. It seemed for a while she had an little entourage going, with my cousin Jeff, cousin Tommy, Uncle Nat and Uncle Dan following her while she ran around with their football. She thought they were chasing her to play with her, when they really wanted the football.
Typical men.
I also gave my speech, and of course I cried a little. My little cousin Dani naturally made a joke out of it, and I glared at her. I couldn�t help it; I don�t think you should make fun of genuine love and gratitude. She�s a bratty skater kid, but I love her, and she apologized profusely for doing that to me. All is forgiven.
My family seems to be uncomfortable with tears, so they always make fun. It�s just how they are.
Example: you should�ve seen everybody, including me, snickering and laughing at the Funeral Home when Grandpa died. Well, I sort of can�t blame them. Grandpa was a damn dirty ole mean ape. The funeral was sort of a necessary evil to us all. I would�ve just as soon seen him put in a pine box and dropped in the Mississippi River before I�d have went to all the trouble to book a Funeral Home. You see, he was a mean old SOB. You had to be there, I guess, for all the hell he put us kids through when we were growing up. We don�t really miss him too much. It�s a terrible thing to say, but so true. Every family has one I guess: someone so toxic and mean that people are glad that they don�t have to deal with them anymore when they die.
Anyway, during my Thanksgiving speech, I told my family that within the year from hell I�ve learned a lot of lessons about being happy with what you�ve got and loving those who love you. Love is a lot more than an emotion; it�s an act, a process. Loving someone sometimes takes a bit of effort because people like me are hard to love sometimes.
Damn bipolar makes my now passed Grandpa ineligible for a love �break�. Some things I just can�t forgive.
So, I told them that I thought we deserve a break from routine this year and I presented them with �Christmas on Thanksgiving!� Presents are good. Presents are nice. (This year for Christmas, I want a booty call.) FYI.
Well, I feel like everyone appreciated the nice little gourmet treats, specialty coffees and spa gifts that I picked out. I only saw one trade, and it really doesn�t offend me. I�m always off by one person anyway.
As far as my little crying scene: I hate it when I get misty, because I feel like some people are very uncomfortable with a person who cries like I do. But I had nothing but �thank yous� for a beautiful Thanksgiving, and I got hugs 3-4 times from everybody.
I try to make everyone feel at home, I just hope I succeeded.
I still can�t believe I had 18 people in my house and we had enough food for everybody. I�m glad Uncle Nat had his video camera..even though I probably look like Buddha on film. Oh well..we captured it on tape, and that�s all that matters.
Mr. Sweatpants and I are in a hot debate: to Kansas or not, this weekend. We�d better go. That butthole.
Pros: Well, for one, I really want to go see my brother Michael that I have yet to meet. He�s 19 and supposedly my twin. We are a lot alike, I�ve heard. My hot hillbilly brother Ronnie and his wife will be there with the new baby. Oh, and my cousin Angie wants to take my prude ass out to get me drunk at some redneck Leavenworth Bar. Sounds like fun to me since it only takes me two drinks to get honked!
Mr. Sweatpants would like to visit with his momma and family too. I don�t understand why he wouldn�t take the opportunity to go visit them when he�s got a chance and someone will share the driving.
Crab.
Cons: On the other hand, having Thanksgiving at my place was exhausting, (but fun), and I could very well lie around on my butt like the Queen of Sheba this weekend and still be happy.
Mr. Sweatpants wants to run another marathon. He just got back from Philadelphia last weekend and now he wants to do the Alton marathon on Saturday.
�Rene�, please take a break from running. We need to go visit our family. Give it a rest already.�
�Okay Missy, I�ll think about it.�
Fun weekend in Kansas, or boring in STL?
Hey, my right eye won�t stop watering. It may be because when I walked into my work this morning, I was greeted with the pleasant smell of, can you believe it, old sewer slime. Yuck. My petite sinuses clogged up and my eye has leaked for 3 and a half hours now. Thank God this place is huge; I can�t smell the funk now. But what happens when I want to go outside and smoke again?
You know, we weren�t supposed to work today. At our weekly meeting last week, our boss said that us contractors would probably be off today. Instead, we never got a notice that we would be off. So here I sit, listening to Seal, but otherwise bored to tears. ZZZZZZ.
13:35 - Friday, Nov. 28, 2003
Recent entries:
What you missed - January 16, 2012
%%older_entries%%From hell - October 19, 2010
%%older_entries%%a rant from a few weeks ago - August 17, 2010
%%older_entries%%Tired - June 20, 2010
%%older_entries%%A beautiful lie - March 11, 2010
%%older_entries%%
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