Tag Archives: Thanksgiving

Ho hum, time is flying

I absolutely cannot believe that it is November. In just two more short months it will be 2011, which is officially +2 from the year I graduated from college. This is nothing short of depressing and mind blowing and awesome and totally weird at the same time.Things are happening faster than I can say ohmigahd, and before we know it, elections will be over (thank GOD…SO tired of trashy commercials on tv), Thanksgiving will be over, Black Friday will have been endured, and the world will be inundated with the most amazing Christmas gift deals ever. Not to mention the birth of our Lord, my best friend’s 24th birthday (!!), and the ringing in of a new year. Apologies in advance, as I can feel a rambling post coming on. The passing of time has got me all hot and bothered.

This past weekend was Halloween, in case you were hiding in a tomb somewhere and missed a bunch of slutty girls walking around the urban watering holes near you. Even the little girls dress slutty now it seems. And I am proud to say I was one of them! Just kidding. This year my costume was super lame, as I slacked majorly in multiple ways, and I ventured out into the streets of San Francisco as an adorable little bumble bee. It is super easy to make bumble bee antennae out of pipe cleaners (which are now apparently called “fuzzy sticks”…weird) and a headband I already own. Thank you yellow t-shirt and black jeans which I also already own. I even put a sunflower in my hair. I feel like sunflower in hair <> slutty. Anyway. San Fran was awesome, and we encountered many-a-character, some of which could have been confused with the local talent. Quality. Though I believe that this is the case everywhere, as to my knowledge Blacksburg never had a very extensive force of working girls, and on this particular night some people might never know it’s a wholesome little southern town. Pretty much let’s put the word “sexy” in front of any noun and make it a costume. Seriously think about it. I could have foregone pants and donned little black booty shorts and been a “sexy bumble bee.” Cute. Or like the cute chicks we saw on the Bart who were the “sexy three bears.” I mean really. Good idea, but wearing a piece of fabric plus a hat with bear ears is not that creative.

Anyway.  House parties are just as fun as a grown-up as they are in college, if not more fun because the house is not a pile of crap that students have been living in / trashing for the past 20 years. Loads of fun had by all, and even one guy who wasn’t dressed up at all.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, who is super excited for me to be back on the east coast?? Oh oh! Pick me! I am! I must admit, while living on the west coast and enjoying much of what the East Bay and San Fran have to offer, I am missing me some country home. Home cooking and a rotisserie turkey will be SO amazing. I think I am more excited this year than past years. It will be great. Plus being at the Outer Banks with friends and family while eating a lot and doing zero work will be so nice. Minus doing zero work, as I will undoubtedly be working a lot given an inopportune project deadline. But no matter. Doing work on the porch is far superior a situation that sitting in my gray soft-walled box, much as I love it. Sarcasm alert. It will be awesome to feel some real seasons as well. Seasons here seem to be a bit indecisive, as the high tomorrow is 79. Perhaps I’ll have an afternoon by the pool.

You know what else I miss? The Coastal Wind. It seems the winds have died down recently, and I’m thinking that it’s time for them to pick back up again, seeing as it’s fall now and I associate fall with more wind. I think right about now Mr. Smart Pants is saying something like this: “blah blah I’m busy blah yadda yadda, so busy.” Well too bad. We want more winds, coastal style.

Last night I finished watching Inglorious Basterds. It was nothing short of an amazing and awesome film. All characters were funny and well developed. The story line was mind blowing, gratifying, hilarous, sad. Brad Pitt, once again, was awesome and so attractive despite aging and funny 40s style hair. He was a surprisingly convincing country man from the mountains of Tennessee, and I laughed a bunch whenever he was on screen. Shoshanna / Emmanuelle was without a doubt the best character. She kicked ass. Totally loved it.

THE GIANTS ARE WORLD CHAMPIONS!!! It is funny that I’m so excited about this since I’m such a recent fan convert, but the energy here after this awesome series win is pretty contagious. I’ve gone from an eh fan to a huge fan. Winning does that I suppose. Driving through the dub-C last night was like driving through Blacksburg after a huge win. People dancing in the streets, yelling, spilling beer on each other. So awesome. GO GIANTS. Don’t tell Grandad.

I am finally visiting Alcatraz this weekend. Super stoked to see THE ROCK which I feel should always be written in caps like that. To me it implies Sean Connery’s funny voice saying it.

Like I said, rambling post. Happy Tuesday, chickens. Keep up the sass, and make yo mama’s proud.

Karaoke, Family, and Meat Loaf…the singer.

Intrigued by the title? Thought so. Want the story on how my quiet and charming parents decided to throw raging parties every night of the Thanksgiving holiday? I know you do.

This year we decided to venture to the exotic Outer Banks of North Caroline with some of my parents closest friends who also have family out of the area.  By Wednesday evening, there was Miss Sassy, a toddler, 6 couples (friends of my parents who are mostly “empty nesters” like my parents except sike I still live at home…womp), and one karaoke machine.  The karaoke machine’s mention will make sense soon. So that night, we had a delicious Italian feast prepared by Momma and Poppa, more bottles of wine than should ordinarily be necessary, and yummy desserts. I suppose I should mention that most everyone (except the toddler) had been drinking since probably noon, so by the time dinner and dessert was finished, that karaoke machine was looking like everyone’s ticket to the big stage.  So someone breaks out the mics and gives it a test run.  I can safely attest that the thing works. Very well.  Poppa Pants volunteers to go first, takes the mic and lets loose on Garth Brooks and all his friends in low places.  Let me tell you, and I say this in the most affectionate way possible since I love Poppa Pants dearly, man canNOT sing.  But he loves singing Jim Croce, Jimmy Buffett, and most of all Meat Loaf (yes, truth).  And he dominates that mic like it’s his new job and he is paid well for it.  But again, we’d all been drinking since noon so he’s always a crowd favorite. Momma Sassy also took her turn up on the stage that is our big living room (complete with balloon patterned couches and seashells on every shelf), and turned herself into Patsy Cline, The Judds, and Bette Midler – and she did it well.  Some wondered aloud why she wasn’t a professional or famous! Meanwhile I sit in the back of the room wondering when the torture would cease.

What happened to my dad, the man who hates boys, loves rules, hummed quietly in church, and never used swear words in front of his precious little princess? (That’s me, in case you were confused) What happened to my quiet Sicilian mother, who drank a glass of wine with dinner, loves order, and sang Disney tunes?  As I sat in the back, watching the hilarity as everyone but me (and the toddler – bedtime for little ones comes before 2am unfortunately) shakes their tushes, and belts out Cher and “I will survive!”, I realized something.  These are real people.  I am but a spectator on my parents life.  Think about when you were little and your parents are SO MEAN and they NEVER let you do ANYTHING and it’s just AWFUL!  Now I think, if we weren’t such brats to our parents, I believe we’d have discovered this “coolness” -if you will – a lot sooner! It’s not that I went away and suddenly they’re having parties and raging all night with friends and wine.  It was there all the time, I just needed to grow up and see it.  How lucky I am to have such fun parents, who manage to be my friends but still forcefully discretely cram down my throat slip in some parenting every 5 seconds every now and then.  So as I sat, enjoying my dear tone-deaf father’s rendition of Paradise by the Dashboard Light (longest song in the history of the world PS), I smiled.  Because even though Meat Loaf is a much better singer (albeit scary and weird), Poppa Pants was enjoying himself and it warmed my heart to see him squinch up his face and close his eyes and really get into it. So now I won’t hide my face in embarrassment and miss having fun with them while they’re young and able.  You never know how much time you have folks!  And while you will probably never catch me singing solos in front of my parents friends (or anyone for that matter – I require lots of booze,  ridiculous anomalies of confidence, or bribery), I will refuse to run and hide from the outrageous antics which occur more and more frequently, pretending I don’t know them.  I will take a million videos and pictures to use as blackmail later so their future grandchildren can see what fun fools they are.  I will laugh until I cry when Poppa Pants loses his voice belting out Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown.  I will hold Momma Sassy’s third glass of scotch while she hams it up for anyone who’s watching, and shows that she has missed her calling as another Patsy Cline.  And I will continue to drink bourbon slushies (delish) quietly and remember that one day, I will do the same to my kids.  Proudly.

Kids: don’t let your parents scare you away with embarrassing antics, and don’t forget that your parents are allowed to let their sass out, too.  Parents: we love you and enjoy watching you get funky, but we will continue laugh at you and shake our heads.  Just remember it’s all out of love.