In four minutes I will be 25. Gathering my thoughts...3 minutes.
Isn't it funny how traditions are born? Every year, on the same day we bring out with fanfare our dearest traditions in order to make that moment, day or time of year all the more special. (1 minute left to go.) One such cherished tradition in my immediate family are Brithday Mornings. Whether or not we had school, or my parents only managed several hours sleep, the whole family would traipse into the birthday girl's bedroom to wake us up with a heartfelt rendition of "Happy Birthday" and a treat with a candle perched atop. Even through my obnoxious teenage years, I always remembered to leave my bedroom door unlocked on my birthday eve.
This morning I woke up extra early, not because it's traditionally a day of celebration (for which I am sure there will be none) but because I had a make-up exam to do at 7:30am. So I quietly let myself into the master bathroom and turned on the closet light, so as not to disturb the snoring and surely evil dreams of...Granny.
"What do ju tink ju are doing?" she sleepily roared.
"Getting ready for school."
" At dis time? I haben't taken a chower yet." Crap, I wanted to straighten my hair and forgot she detests others taking a shower before she does. Whatever that's all about.
"Okay, well, no problem go ahead." I did not want a problem at 5:30am (wait... isn't she supposed to be on her way to work already? hahaha).
"What ju doing so early?"
"I have to be at school early today remember?"
"Ju chould hab been taking one las night." Quick Ashley think pacifying...
"You're right, I wasn't thinking." As I headed toward the kitchen, she was still grumbling something. Ungrateful. Inconsiderate. Selfish.
I must've been dreaming when I imagined well-wishes on my Birthday from Granny. And as a matter of fact, last night I did; perhaps because I suppose my subconscience knew I wouldn't get them.
And so today on this day I remember bittersweetly the days of my youth and that sweet tradition that I cling onto for comfort's sake. Whether or not I expect it now, it doesn't matter, because I know that somewhere down the line, I'll be carrying on that time-honored tradition to my own very special children.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
My Agent Forgot To Call
Everyday Granny comes home with the same tale of woe: why must she suffer and endure work in order to be the provider for the family? Well, it depends on who you ask. Granny insists that she alone carries the burden, Red at every turn states that He alone is the man of the house providing for all those under its roof, and Tio doesn't really say much, but is the one who writes out the checks every month.
With all these supposed financial woes and in the terrible economy, everyone has had to tighten their belts and trade foie gras for Kraft singles. But not my family. Well, at least not Red.
Granny returned to Fort Myers this weekend to visit Red while the rest of us stayed behind with legit excuses. Tonight, while making plans for dinner he calls me to get directions to The Capital Grille. You know, the kind of restaurant that you have to reserve a table in advance and a glass of water costs 5.50. So I oblige wondering why in the hell he would even attempt to just show up.
In my family, there is no such thing as direct communication. It is very common to have 4 people on the phone at the same time, like tonight. While I was cradling the phone on my shoulder and looking up directions to The Capital Grille, Red was calling the restaurant, and Granny was talking to Tio about how they had spent the day in Porche and Audi dealerships trying to swindle a deal. If we have no money to buy me a pair of new jeans (the one's I have ripped) with my own check, how the hell are they to pay for a Porche?? HE IS NOT IN THE BIG LEAGUES! But the kicker comes listening to Red's conversation with the restaurant:
"Hello? Yes, hi, I'm comming in from Fort Myers and my agent forgot to call, but I play baseball for ___ and my mom is here to visit. Is there any way you could talk to your manager and get us a table?... Great, and by the way I don't want one of those tiny tables, I need a big one. ...Yes, for two. Great thanks."
Oh vomit. How nice for them. Tio, Papi and myself went across the street to Billy Bob's BBQ where the "white" paint was chiping off the walls and the guy behind us in the bright green tank top looks like Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon.
At the end of Red's meal he called to inform Tio that yes, he met the restaurant manager. And if you were wondering... Yes, he did swindle a discount.
With all these supposed financial woes and in the terrible economy, everyone has had to tighten their belts and trade foie gras for Kraft singles. But not my family. Well, at least not Red.
Granny returned to Fort Myers this weekend to visit Red while the rest of us stayed behind with legit excuses. Tonight, while making plans for dinner he calls me to get directions to The Capital Grille. You know, the kind of restaurant that you have to reserve a table in advance and a glass of water costs 5.50. So I oblige wondering why in the hell he would even attempt to just show up.
In my family, there is no such thing as direct communication. It is very common to have 4 people on the phone at the same time, like tonight. While I was cradling the phone on my shoulder and looking up directions to The Capital Grille, Red was calling the restaurant, and Granny was talking to Tio about how they had spent the day in Porche and Audi dealerships trying to swindle a deal. If we have no money to buy me a pair of new jeans (the one's I have ripped) with my own check, how the hell are they to pay for a Porche?? HE IS NOT IN THE BIG LEAGUES! But the kicker comes listening to Red's conversation with the restaurant:
"Hello? Yes, hi, I'm comming in from Fort Myers and my agent forgot to call, but I play baseball for ___ and my mom is here to visit. Is there any way you could talk to your manager and get us a table?... Great, and by the way I don't want one of those tiny tables, I need a big one. ...Yes, for two. Great thanks."
Oh vomit. How nice for them. Tio, Papi and myself went across the street to Billy Bob's BBQ where the "white" paint was chiping off the walls and the guy behind us in the bright green tank top looks like Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon.
At the end of Red's meal he called to inform Tio that yes, he met the restaurant manager. And if you were wondering... Yes, he did swindle a discount.
Friday, March 6, 2009
My Poor Mother....
A shout out to mom:
My mom (saint that she is) is the Mecca of all things Granny. The Alpha and the Omega. She has dealt with more harrassment than anyone else in this family and continues to do so (now mainly because I live here). Chin up oh Being of Patience, everyday we get closer to the finish line.
Love,
The Most Grateful Daughter in the Universe
PS- a special thanks to Lexapro for my sunshiny outlook.
My mom (saint that she is) is the Mecca of all things Granny. The Alpha and the Omega. She has dealt with more harrassment than anyone else in this family and continues to do so (now mainly because I live here). Chin up oh Being of Patience, everyday we get closer to the finish line.
Love,
The Most Grateful Daughter in the Universe
PS- a special thanks to Lexapro for my sunshiny outlook.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Humpty Dumpty...
It started out just like any other day: a 4 year old running around refusing to go to school, a pissed off and impatient uncle chasing the child around the house, an old Cuban lady ranting about something, anything. I desperately huddled under the covers grasping at an extra hour of sleep on my day off- little did I know that the day would come to such a tragic end.
Fitfully I kicked off the covers and gave up on my sleeping endeavor to commence my daily chores and do some homework. Everything ran smoothly Friday and I found myself in the late afternoon with a smush of time to take a nap (YAY!) so I laid down on the couch with a book and dozed off. I was woken quite suddenly by my grandfather telling me that my grandmother had been in an accident. Of course I jumped up asking for details. She was in the hospital, and no other information was available except that she had been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. I searched for the phonebook to look up the number to the hospital when my grandfather stopped me- don't bother calling the hospital, she's on her cell phone. I did a double take. Excuse me...um, what?
Now, most normal people who are rushed off to the hospital tend to sustain serious accidents like, oh I don't know- heartattacks, strokes, labor, seizures, severing of a limb. When I called her on her cell phone (ahahaha) she was vague about her circumstances:
"Oh, my gooness, ju know, I cannot be talk right now because I am ing de hospital." I'm not a qualified expert, but I am pretty sure that if her condition was so distressing, she probably would not pick up the phone you know- according to simple logic.
So here's what went down: a big cuban lady (hahaha-ok bad joke). She tripped over a telephone wire. Yup. That's right Humpty Dumpty tripped on a telephone wire whilest she was making copies at work and landed (coincidentally) on her previously injured (and repaired) shoulder and knee. So great was her pain that she cried out for an ambulance. Several hours, 4 pain killers ("Oh, ju know I neber taken dos, I neber eben taking an aspirin!"), 2 ice bags and a get out of jail (work) free card and she was back at the house, harrassing. Apparently falling down doesn't stop someone from being a pain in the -.
Now she has been tormenting our household and will continue to do so until the 5th. And somehow in her distraught condition she was able to drive 6 hours roundtrip to visit Red this past weekend, and is going to do it again next weekend. Poor Humpty Dumpty....
Fitfully I kicked off the covers and gave up on my sleeping endeavor to commence my daily chores and do some homework. Everything ran smoothly Friday and I found myself in the late afternoon with a smush of time to take a nap (YAY!) so I laid down on the couch with a book and dozed off. I was woken quite suddenly by my grandfather telling me that my grandmother had been in an accident. Of course I jumped up asking for details. She was in the hospital, and no other information was available except that she had been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. I searched for the phonebook to look up the number to the hospital when my grandfather stopped me- don't bother calling the hospital, she's on her cell phone. I did a double take. Excuse me...um, what?
Now, most normal people who are rushed off to the hospital tend to sustain serious accidents like, oh I don't know- heartattacks, strokes, labor, seizures, severing of a limb. When I called her on her cell phone (ahahaha) she was vague about her circumstances:
"Oh, my gooness, ju know, I cannot be talk right now because I am ing de hospital." I'm not a qualified expert, but I am pretty sure that if her condition was so distressing, she probably would not pick up the phone you know- according to simple logic.
So here's what went down: a big cuban lady (hahaha-ok bad joke). She tripped over a telephone wire. Yup. That's right Humpty Dumpty tripped on a telephone wire whilest she was making copies at work and landed (coincidentally) on her previously injured (and repaired) shoulder and knee. So great was her pain that she cried out for an ambulance. Several hours, 4 pain killers ("Oh, ju know I neber taken dos, I neber eben taking an aspirin!"), 2 ice bags and a get out of jail (work) free card and she was back at the house, harrassing. Apparently falling down doesn't stop someone from being a pain in the -.
Now she has been tormenting our household and will continue to do so until the 5th. And somehow in her distraught condition she was able to drive 6 hours roundtrip to visit Red this past weekend, and is going to do it again next weekend. Poor Humpty Dumpty....
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
I Love Annie Leibovitz!
This has nothing to do with Granny, but I'm loving Leibovitz's Disney Series, giving a little something to the kid in me, or something to that effect. :)
Scarlet Johannson
Rachel Weisz
Jessica Biel
Mikhail Barishnikov as Peter Pan, Gisele Bundchen as Wendy and Tina Fey as Tinkerbell
Scarlet JohannsonRachel WeiszJessica Biel Mikhail Barishnikov as Peter Pan, Gisele Bundchen as Wendy and Tina Fey as Tinkerbell
Monday, February 23, 2009
Lessons in Psychology
I am so excited! For surgery! Now you may ask, why would someone be excited about surgery? Well, I get to observe orthopedic surgeries!
I went to visit my orthopedic surgeon-I'm having surgery on my left shoulder to repair ligaments due to excessive dislocations (that is not so yay). I'm starting the Nursing Program at school in the summer and I told my doctor about it and inquired about perhaps observing his surgeries. He told me that whenever I wanted, he'd be more than happy to have me.
I'm not gonna lie- I miss it. The scrubs, the smell of sterilization, the hustle-and-bustle, and the calm that can be induced (sans drugs) to overly anxious patients and their families.
Dr.___ set me up with his scheduler to arrange observance days (Mondays and Wednesdays-I don't even have class!).
Now, the mission to convince granny commences. I called my mom to tell her the great news, and she gave me the golden nugget of wisdom. Make this situation seem as if it stems from her influence and she'll be on board, otherwise it'll be an uphill battle. So I called her containing my excitement as much as possible (I can't let on that this is super exciting to me, or she'll treaten to take it away at a later date).
I explained to granny that I had gone to see the Dr. (whom she and Red see as well), and that when I told him about the Nursing Program he suggested that I observe his surgeries. And that the only reason that he was allowing me this opportunity was because he knows dear old granny, and what a wonderful family I come from.
"Buell, ob course! He know how I am, an jur uncle too!" of course granny, he's only allowing this because of you and Red. I also slid in that he believes that if I observe him, that it will give me an advantage over the other nursing student applicants.
"Buell den, ju haves to go! If he say he need you to be dere, ju say no proglem, and I take ju."
SCORE! So now I get to spend time in the OR with granny's blessing and *gasp!* encouragement. All due to her goodliness and as mom says her "godliness". She also gave me $$ to go buy scrubs and sneakers. I encouraged her to extract that money from the return check I recieved from my Pell Grant ($200) which was supposed to be used for school purposes- she quickly changed the subject, as did Tio when I suggested it to him. Hmmm, I wonder exactly where is that money. I was told it was going to be set up in a checking account, that was almost 2 months ago....
I went to visit my orthopedic surgeon-I'm having surgery on my left shoulder to repair ligaments due to excessive dislocations (that is not so yay). I'm starting the Nursing Program at school in the summer and I told my doctor about it and inquired about perhaps observing his surgeries. He told me that whenever I wanted, he'd be more than happy to have me.
I'm not gonna lie- I miss it. The scrubs, the smell of sterilization, the hustle-and-bustle, and the calm that can be induced (sans drugs) to overly anxious patients and their families.
Dr.___ set me up with his scheduler to arrange observance days (Mondays and Wednesdays-I don't even have class!).
Now, the mission to convince granny commences. I called my mom to tell her the great news, and she gave me the golden nugget of wisdom. Make this situation seem as if it stems from her influence and she'll be on board, otherwise it'll be an uphill battle. So I called her containing my excitement as much as possible (I can't let on that this is super exciting to me, or she'll treaten to take it away at a later date).
I explained to granny that I had gone to see the Dr. (whom she and Red see as well), and that when I told him about the Nursing Program he suggested that I observe his surgeries. And that the only reason that he was allowing me this opportunity was because he knows dear old granny, and what a wonderful family I come from.
"Buell, ob course! He know how I am, an jur uncle too!" of course granny, he's only allowing this because of you and Red. I also slid in that he believes that if I observe him, that it will give me an advantage over the other nursing student applicants.
"Buell den, ju haves to go! If he say he need you to be dere, ju say no proglem, and I take ju."
SCORE! So now I get to spend time in the OR with granny's blessing and *gasp!* encouragement. All due to her goodliness and as mom says her "godliness". She also gave me $$ to go buy scrubs and sneakers. I encouraged her to extract that money from the return check I recieved from my Pell Grant ($200) which was supposed to be used for school purposes- she quickly changed the subject, as did Tio when I suggested it to him. Hmmm, I wonder exactly where is that money. I was told it was going to be set up in a checking account, that was almost 2 months ago....
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Granny vs. Nanny
My mom and Bill divorced when I was 2. During their separation my stepfather had recently arrived from Cuba after spending 5 years cutting sugar cane as punishment for marrying an American and trying to leave the country. One weekend my mom took me and went down to Miami to spend the weekend with my godmother, and my cousins. During that weekend My mom's knight came galloping in on his white horse to whisk her away. Well, not really. He just knocked on her door and said "Hi! I'm here to spend the rest of my life with you." And it's been true love ever since.
Back to the granny story. I have been ridiculously fortunate to have had an amazing set of paternal grandparents. Although Bill was an absentee father, what he lacked was more than made up for by grandmother and grandfather.
On Bill's dedicated weekends, if he happened to pick me up, he would turn around and drop me off at Nanny and Pop's; otherwise they took the responsibility to pick me up themselves. Obviously, I was extremely close to Nanny and Pop simply because I spent my entire life with both until 2003 and then it's just been me and Nan. Besides every other weekend in their care, my dad willingly sacrificed (ahahahaha) his 2 weekes during the summer to send me off to North Carolina to spend it with my grandparents.
On the other end of the spectrum, my mom and abuela have always had strained relations, including several hiatuses in their relationship. Abuela has the uncanny knack for exuding manipulation and afflicting those around her with severe anxiety.
For these reasons, I have had the good fortune of been closer to the sane grandma than the psychotic one. This relationship however, has been the envy and bane of abuela's existence.
So here's the recent story: Remeber that Red has been searching for an apartment to spend his spring training? (Did I mention that? hmmm....) I have been diligently searching for a 45 day furnished rental under $1300 (during season, sooo difficult). I found one 4 weeks ago. Do you think the initiative was taken to quickly make a decision, stick with it and give a deposit? Ohhh no. Last weekend I spent trapped in a car for 48 hours looking for apartments. And this weekend, 36 hours before he has to be at spring training is when a decision is being made.
Now, Nanny takes several weeks to arrange a trip to visit me and other family here in town. She picks me up and we putz around, have lunch, visit our family, and maybe do a little shopping before returning me to camp. I notified abuela of Nanny's plans 2 weeks ago and she didn't say anything. So when I reminded her on Thursday, WWIII broke out.
"Buell, ju can't jus be leabing here beneber ju want Dis is no how it works. Jur granmoder jus come to picke ju up, an ju bery nice wit her. Den ju coming back here wit de actictue. No buay!! Dis is de Cuban way in dis house, no de American buay! ur nana or noonoo or buateber ju calling her needing her to be call me!!!!"
So abuela said there was no way I could go with Nanny on Friday and that she would have to rearrange her plans because we were going to Fort Myers Friday afternoon to leave a deposit on Red's apartment. So we came to an agreement, I could go with Nanny but I had to return by 4pm. So I left early in the morning and we raced back to the house to make sure we were on time and to avoid being reprimanded.
Now. Do you think that we actually went to Fort Myers? I'll give ya two guesses....that's correct! No. And do you think that she dragged me off this morning to go with her? No. She is in love with inventing whatever excuse she can to pull me away from Nanny. This is becoming increasingly frustrating as I have realized that she is a tad jealous. So I try and kill her with love, but it's hard to love a thorny bush. Not only is she attempting to pull me away, she tries to feed me poison by saying that Nanny doesn't love me because she doesn't send her Social Security checks to me to help pay for my expenses. I would debate this point with her, but it's no use.
Did I tell you her latest threat? She has threatened to buy pot, to plant it on me, then call the cops, and have me thrown in jail. Oh! And she's threatned to beat herself up, call the cops and tell them my grandfather (her estranged husband) who lives with us, is beating her up. Now,does anyone doubt her psychosis?! I didn't think so.
Back to the granny story. I have been ridiculously fortunate to have had an amazing set of paternal grandparents. Although Bill was an absentee father, what he lacked was more than made up for by grandmother and grandfather.
On Bill's dedicated weekends, if he happened to pick me up, he would turn around and drop me off at Nanny and Pop's; otherwise they took the responsibility to pick me up themselves. Obviously, I was extremely close to Nanny and Pop simply because I spent my entire life with both until 2003 and then it's just been me and Nan. Besides every other weekend in their care, my dad willingly sacrificed (ahahahaha) his 2 weekes during the summer to send me off to North Carolina to spend it with my grandparents.
On the other end of the spectrum, my mom and abuela have always had strained relations, including several hiatuses in their relationship. Abuela has the uncanny knack for exuding manipulation and afflicting those around her with severe anxiety.
For these reasons, I have had the good fortune of been closer to the sane grandma than the psychotic one. This relationship however, has been the envy and bane of abuela's existence.
So here's the recent story: Remeber that Red has been searching for an apartment to spend his spring training? (Did I mention that? hmmm....) I have been diligently searching for a 45 day furnished rental under $1300 (during season, sooo difficult). I found one 4 weeks ago. Do you think the initiative was taken to quickly make a decision, stick with it and give a deposit? Ohhh no. Last weekend I spent trapped in a car for 48 hours looking for apartments. And this weekend, 36 hours before he has to be at spring training is when a decision is being made.
Now, Nanny takes several weeks to arrange a trip to visit me and other family here in town. She picks me up and we putz around, have lunch, visit our family, and maybe do a little shopping before returning me to camp. I notified abuela of Nanny's plans 2 weeks ago and she didn't say anything. So when I reminded her on Thursday, WWIII broke out.
"Buell, ju can't jus be leabing here beneber ju want Dis is no how it works. Jur granmoder jus come to picke ju up, an ju bery nice wit her. Den ju coming back here wit de actictue. No buay!! Dis is de Cuban way in dis house, no de American buay! ur nana or noonoo or buateber ju calling her needing her to be call me!!!!"
So abuela said there was no way I could go with Nanny on Friday and that she would have to rearrange her plans because we were going to Fort Myers Friday afternoon to leave a deposit on Red's apartment. So we came to an agreement, I could go with Nanny but I had to return by 4pm. So I left early in the morning and we raced back to the house to make sure we were on time and to avoid being reprimanded.
Now. Do you think that we actually went to Fort Myers? I'll give ya two guesses....that's correct! No. And do you think that she dragged me off this morning to go with her? No. She is in love with inventing whatever excuse she can to pull me away from Nanny. This is becoming increasingly frustrating as I have realized that she is a tad jealous. So I try and kill her with love, but it's hard to love a thorny bush. Not only is she attempting to pull me away, she tries to feed me poison by saying that Nanny doesn't love me because she doesn't send her Social Security checks to me to help pay for my expenses. I would debate this point with her, but it's no use.
Did I tell you her latest threat? She has threatened to buy pot, to plant it on me, then call the cops, and have me thrown in jail. Oh! And she's threatned to beat herself up, call the cops and tell them my grandfather (her estranged husband) who lives with us, is beating her up. Now,does anyone doubt her psychosis?! I didn't think so.
Rules
I read an article today on psychology.com that said that those who blog out of anger or frustration are doing themselves more harm than good. Really?!? Cause I'm pretty sure that at then end of this entry, I will feel loads better.
Right now she is yelling at me. To clean up after everyone is done eating. Why am I not eating you may ask? Because I am sick to my stomach. My probation officer (we'll talk about that at a later date) just left my house at 7:30pm. She has been here since 6:45pm. Talking to me? No. Talking to the Tribunal. Why? Because I smoke.
In this house it's all about rules right? Wrong. It's about convenience. When you need them use them, by all means fire away! When you don't enforce them and someone breaks the rules- put it in your back pocket as ammo for a later date.
Red is spending his Spring Training down in the same city my parents live in. So naturally he called my mom to ask if it was okay to stay there for about 6 weeks. Mom said she didn't have a problem as long as it was okay with dad. So dad called the next day and told Red that he was more than welcome to stay as long as he obeyed the following RULES
They are as follows:
1)No ungodly hours
2)No alcohol (there are 2 minors living in the house)
3) No parties/strange people roaming about
4) Your girlfriend has to stay in a hotel
5)My mom doesn't cook, so DIY- take-out or cook
These are very simplistic basic courtesies you would observe wherever you go. However, these "rules" are a problem for him. Not because he can't obey them, but because they were imposed on him to begin with. So he has resigned himself to looking for temporary housing (that's another post in and of itself). So Red feels he is above the "rules" of my mother's house and has made it into a big production.
Everything here is a big production. Which is why they called my probation officer. To see if perhaps she could test my urine for nicotene? Seriously?? (I'm trying very hard to take deep calming breaths right now). She asked if my Probation Officer would violate my probation for her if I broke one of her house rules. Mainly-smoking. I'm just wondering if maybe she could keep a chart or list of her rules and the times it is okay to break them and the times it is not.
Excuse me while I go hide in the hall closet and scream into a pillow.
Right now she is yelling at me. To clean up after everyone is done eating. Why am I not eating you may ask? Because I am sick to my stomach. My probation officer (we'll talk about that at a later date) just left my house at 7:30pm. She has been here since 6:45pm. Talking to me? No. Talking to the Tribunal. Why? Because I smoke.
In this house it's all about rules right? Wrong. It's about convenience. When you need them use them, by all means fire away! When you don't enforce them and someone breaks the rules- put it in your back pocket as ammo for a later date.
Red is spending his Spring Training down in the same city my parents live in. So naturally he called my mom to ask if it was okay to stay there for about 6 weeks. Mom said she didn't have a problem as long as it was okay with dad. So dad called the next day and told Red that he was more than welcome to stay as long as he obeyed the following RULES
They are as follows:
1)No ungodly hours
2)No alcohol (there are 2 minors living in the house)
3) No parties/strange people roaming about
4) Your girlfriend has to stay in a hotel
5)My mom doesn't cook, so DIY- take-out or cook
These are very simplistic basic courtesies you would observe wherever you go. However, these "rules" are a problem for him. Not because he can't obey them, but because they were imposed on him to begin with. So he has resigned himself to looking for temporary housing (that's another post in and of itself). So Red feels he is above the "rules" of my mother's house and has made it into a big production.
Everything here is a big production. Which is why they called my probation officer. To see if perhaps she could test my urine for nicotene? Seriously?? (I'm trying very hard to take deep calming breaths right now). She asked if my Probation Officer would violate my probation for her if I broke one of her house rules. Mainly-smoking. I'm just wondering if maybe she could keep a chart or list of her rules and the times it is okay to break them and the times it is not.
Excuse me while I go hide in the hall closet and scream into a pillow.
My Family's Dinner Etiquette
I am going to preface this entry with a little bit of character background concerning Red. Red plays baseball for a major league team, although he's not in the majors (just AAA), he would like to inform everyone he encounters that he-plays baseball. If you didn't already know it, he plays baseball. And in case everyone else on the face of the Earth doesn't know it-he plays baseball. The guard at my parents gate to their neighborhood 2.5 hrs from our home, who has met Red maybe a collective 4 times- knows he plays baseball. So yea, he plays baseball. Just so you're aware that he, plays baseball. Get it? Good.
Have you ever had food thrown at you from another guest seated in the restaurant? We have. There is a reason I dread family outings to dine. There is a reason I dread family outings period. They find every loophole possible to score something for free or a discount. So naturally the only way to score such a bargain is to, drumroll please, complain. Nothing is EVER good enough.
Take P.F. Chang's white rice for example, everyone else in the restaurant's white rice is just fine. The table next to us, no problem. G's rice, perfect. Everyone except Red. His white rice is a tad on the sticky side. Well, it might as well be the worst rice on the face of the planet! After all, what do the Chinese know about cooking rice?...Exactly. So of course, as soon as he instigates any minor fault, Tio and Abuela jump right on the Complain Train. And it's not as if they call the server over and discreetly ask for a different serving or maybe an exchange for fried rice. Oh no! That would be the , GASP!, courteous thing to do.
"Do you not know anything about this rice?!" Red demands of the server. " I want to speak to your manager right now!" As we all wait for the manager to arrive, the Complain Train keeps chugging away throwing insults regarding the incompetence of the restaurant/server/cooks amongst themselves. At this point the volume of their voices has reached the Louder volume (ref. last blog's volume chart), and everyone else in our party sinks down a little bit lower into our seats, trying our hardest to somehow melt into our surroundings. The people at other tables are beginning to stare and shake their heads in disapproval at my family's obscene behavior.
"I sincerely apologize if there has been an inconvenience, what can I do for you?" The manager dutifully inquires.
Here's the egomaniac comment!: "You know what? I play baseball for the _________ and I've traveled everywhere, and when I was in L.A. 's P.F. Chang's, I never encountered this problem!"
"Yea, he's never had this problem before, and I'm really disappointed that we're having this situation." Pipes up Tio. Having had no experience at a P.F. Chang's let alone anything Los Angeles.
"Ju know," begins Abuela, "My son play basebol, an he neber has dis proglem before. I reely can't belief that dis is hapen to us right now." Of course the manager profusely apologizes and arranges to have our bill not only discounted, but at the insistence of the Egomaniac, bring us a *free* dessert.
After the meal has ended and the bill has been dropped off. Red assures the manager that he is doubtful that we will return (the man was probably relieved). They pay the remainder of the bill, and before we make our exit the table full of ladies next to ours throws bread at our table. Yes, they threw food. Granted they had been sharing some cocktails, but who are we kidding here, I'd probably throw food if another guest was killing my buzz too. Especially because as I'm sure many of you know, liquor isn't cheap. If only I could've joined them...
Have you ever had food thrown at you from another guest seated in the restaurant? We have. There is a reason I dread family outings to dine. There is a reason I dread family outings period. They find every loophole possible to score something for free or a discount. So naturally the only way to score such a bargain is to, drumroll please, complain. Nothing is EVER good enough.
Take P.F. Chang's white rice for example, everyone else in the restaurant's white rice is just fine. The table next to us, no problem. G's rice, perfect. Everyone except Red. His white rice is a tad on the sticky side. Well, it might as well be the worst rice on the face of the planet! After all, what do the Chinese know about cooking rice?...Exactly. So of course, as soon as he instigates any minor fault, Tio and Abuela jump right on the Complain Train. And it's not as if they call the server over and discreetly ask for a different serving or maybe an exchange for fried rice. Oh no! That would be the , GASP!, courteous thing to do.
"Do you not know anything about this rice?!" Red demands of the server. " I want to speak to your manager right now!" As we all wait for the manager to arrive, the Complain Train keeps chugging away throwing insults regarding the incompetence of the restaurant/server/cooks amongst themselves. At this point the volume of their voices has reached the Louder volume (ref. last blog's volume chart), and everyone else in our party sinks down a little bit lower into our seats, trying our hardest to somehow melt into our surroundings. The people at other tables are beginning to stare and shake their heads in disapproval at my family's obscene behavior.
"I sincerely apologize if there has been an inconvenience, what can I do for you?" The manager dutifully inquires.
Here's the egomaniac comment!: "You know what? I play baseball for the _________ and I've traveled everywhere, and when I was in L.A. 's P.F. Chang's, I never encountered this problem!"
"Yea, he's never had this problem before, and I'm really disappointed that we're having this situation." Pipes up Tio. Having had no experience at a P.F. Chang's let alone anything Los Angeles.
"Ju know," begins Abuela, "My son play basebol, an he neber has dis proglem before. I reely can't belief that dis is hapen to us right now." Of course the manager profusely apologizes and arranges to have our bill not only discounted, but at the insistence of the Egomaniac, bring us a *free* dessert.
After the meal has ended and the bill has been dropped off. Red assures the manager that he is doubtful that we will return (the man was probably relieved). They pay the remainder of the bill, and before we make our exit the table full of ladies next to ours throws bread at our table. Yes, they threw food. Granted they had been sharing some cocktails, but who are we kidding here, I'd probably throw food if another guest was killing my buzz too. Especially because as I'm sure many of you know, liquor isn't cheap. If only I could've joined them...
And So We Begin...
Allow me to begin by introducing myself. I am really no one overly special, even though we're all different in some unique way. I go to college in a small town in the S.E. U.S., and I'm almost 25 (I refer to this years birthday as Doom's Day- but we'll get to that later). I have started this blog because I go to college full time and as I recount tales of my home life to my friends, I always get one of two reactions: 1) Pee your pants funny or 2) Complete and utter astonishment. So, I decided to start this blog as not only a way to find the humor in things and de-stress, but I'm also maybe a little input or suggestions from others.
Everyone has a different family situation. Some lucky, some unfortunate. I have had the privilege of being raised in the former, however I find myself currently submerged in the latter. Great. The events leading up to where I am at now, are my fault, and mine alone. On the same token, I was lured here under not so much false pretenses as...not quite knowing what I was getting myself into. About 8 months ago I found myself in a bit of a sticky situation. My former roommate's home was being foreclosed on. Subsequently I had to find somewhere to live, but since I had no job (thanks to the economy), I found myself in quite a quandary (I love that word!). My parents have a very strict rule- once you move out, there's no coming back. The rule sucks, but that's the way the ball bounces. If I would've realized how good I had it, I never would've left.
But I digress, I called my grandmother (mom's mom) and asked her what she thought. She enthusiastically offered me a place in her home. I was relieved. However to sweeten the deal she also informed me that if I lived with her, I was required to go to school full time and I was not allowed to work. Well, that was obviously a no brain er. If only I had known... So I now live with my Grandmother, Grandfather, both uncles and Cousin 1 and 2 most of the time (but more on that later).
Before I begin my first chronicle, as a convenience to you, I will provide a list of characters (obviously the names will be changed).
I'm Cuban-American, so there will be some spanish names...
Grandmother, Uncle #1, Uncle #2 = The Tribunal/ CIA
Grandmother (aka the Martyr/Chief)- Abuela/Granny
Grandfather (aka the Ally)- Papi
Uncle #1 (aka Brainwashed/Cronie #1)- Tio
Aunt (aka the Volcano)- G
Cousin #1 (aka the Messiah)- Bebe
Cousin #2 (aka the baby)- X
Uncle #2 (aka the Egomaniac/Snake/The Informant)- Red
Uncle #2's Girlfriend (aka the Unsuspecting)- Az.
Mom (aka The Woman Who Get's Blamed for Everything)- Mom
Dad (step dad aka The One Who Doesn't Love Me- although he really does)- Dad
Sister #1 (aka The Party Girl)- M
Sister #2 (aka Mischief)-C
Bill (aka my biological father)- Bill
Nanny (aka My Sanity)- Nan
So there is a brief overview. As we progress, I will not leave you confused or in the dark, as I bring in new characters I will repost/revise my list with that entry.
As I close down this entry I will leave you with my latest Chronicle to help give you a taste of what this blog will be like. Ready?
Here we go...
Monday: I arrived home from classes to discover that in the closet I share with Abuela an entire rack had fallen down. The mess seemed endless and I called Red into the room to help decide on a course of action. He decided that a trip to Lowe's was in order.
I stayed behind in order to reorganize the things that had fallen, and saw this as a golden opportunity to purge the overcrowded closet of items that hadn't been worn since 1988 (including my raincoat from preschool..). When Abuela returned from work that evening I showed her what had happened and asked her what she thought of allowing me to reorganize our things (for future reference, everything has to be her idea, otherwise the answer is no). The martyrdom kicks in.
"Well ju know! I leeb dis house at 5am (more like 7) and don get home unteel 8 at nighbt!(more like 5:30) How can ju espet me to come home from werk an I ang eshausted !" Don't you think a simple " A, I think it's a great idea, but let's save it for the weekend." or "No, I'm really tired." ?
So I sat on the floor of the bathroom refolding more things that had fallen, and I remembered that I had been promising Abuela for months that I would reorganize our bathroom cabinets. With a burst of energy I got to work. I threw away things like surgical gloves (???), lotions that had turned yellow with age, cremes and medications that had expired in 1992, just to name a few. By the time I was done with half the bathroom I had two trashbags FULL of junk. Oh yeah, plus over 350 bars of hotel soap, and lipsticks she had worn in over 15 years.
Throughout my endeavor G was in the bathroom giving the kids a bath, marvelling at my organization of the cabinets and in agreement with every item I had thrown away. An hour later and I was almost done (I'm a quick worker). Abuela and Red came into the bathroom, not to inspect my work and show gratitude, but to tell me that they had gone through some of the things I had thrown away and told me that I had no right to throw away 15 year old lipsticks (what if she decided to one day put on makeup??) or 10 year old Preparation H (who would seriously still put that in their butt???).
So of course Abuela started yelling (because maybe she's going deaf? Not. She has only three volumes- loud, louder and piercingly shrill). "You habe no righ to trow abuay my tings!! Atrevida!!(brazen) Who are ju to jus trow tings away?!? Anser me!"
I have learned however, to do one of three things 1) Apologize for the error of my ways 2) Agree with everything ("Yes, you're right, I am ungrateful") 3) Play dumb. I went with the latter. After she stormed off, I decided it was time to retire from my expedition for the evening, and take up my cause at a later date.
Tuesday: I woke up for class (6:30 am- not my favorite...) and I went to the bathroom to see if Granny was done taking a shower- after all she goes to work at 5:30 in the morning right? Hahahahaha. I found her in her underwear frantically searching the bathroom for a needle and thread from a little sewing kit that she had (about 4 of those, that I threw away). I had never in all my 24 years seen that woman sew a button. She started crying. Not kidding. She began pulling out all the drawers in the bathroom. "Ju jus trow my tings abuay! I migh as well no eben esist! I don't eben wan to comming home to by own home tonigh! I can beliebe ju! Atrevida!"
She stormed out of the bathroom (that's her favorite behavior) and was running all over the house crying and repeating her previous words. So Tio in his I-need-Xanax-in-the-worst-way (at least that's what I think) came out of his room freaking out. "MOM?!? What's wrong?!? What happened?!? Are we being bombed?!?" (haha just kidding, I added the last one for emphasis...)
"Ob coorse! CHE trew EBERYTING! She is ungbeliebable! How can che?!? Che igs shangeless an brazan!" Which you will soon learn, that in my household feminism does not exist. They are very -Me Tarzan, You Jane.
"I know Mom, she has no right to do that to you. We'll handle it later."
She finally left for work- but not before taking the hairbrush with her.
I left for school that morning with my ritualistic coffee and sucked down 3 cigarettes before my classes began. Another touchy subject- I've already been cracked across the face for that discovery- but I keep smoking, the Lexapro just isn't enough to control my anxiety.
Everyone has a different family situation. Some lucky, some unfortunate. I have had the privilege of being raised in the former, however I find myself currently submerged in the latter. Great. The events leading up to where I am at now, are my fault, and mine alone. On the same token, I was lured here under not so much false pretenses as...not quite knowing what I was getting myself into. About 8 months ago I found myself in a bit of a sticky situation. My former roommate's home was being foreclosed on. Subsequently I had to find somewhere to live, but since I had no job (thanks to the economy), I found myself in quite a quandary (I love that word!). My parents have a very strict rule- once you move out, there's no coming back. The rule sucks, but that's the way the ball bounces. If I would've realized how good I had it, I never would've left.
But I digress, I called my grandmother (mom's mom) and asked her what she thought. She enthusiastically offered me a place in her home. I was relieved. However to sweeten the deal she also informed me that if I lived with her, I was required to go to school full time and I was not allowed to work. Well, that was obviously a no brain er. If only I had known... So I now live with my Grandmother, Grandfather, both uncles and Cousin 1 and 2 most of the time (but more on that later).
Before I begin my first chronicle, as a convenience to you, I will provide a list of characters (obviously the names will be changed).
I'm Cuban-American, so there will be some spanish names...
Grandmother, Uncle #1, Uncle #2 = The Tribunal/ CIA
Grandmother (aka the Martyr/Chief)- Abuela/Granny
Grandfather (aka the Ally)- Papi
Uncle #1 (aka Brainwashed/Cronie #1)- Tio
Aunt (aka the Volcano)- G
Cousin #1 (aka the Messiah)- Bebe
Cousin #2 (aka the baby)- X
Uncle #2 (aka the Egomaniac/Snake/The Informant)- Red
Uncle #2's Girlfriend (aka the Unsuspecting)- Az.
Mom (aka The Woman Who Get's Blamed for Everything)- Mom
Dad (step dad aka The One Who Doesn't Love Me- although he really does)- Dad
Sister #1 (aka The Party Girl)- M
Sister #2 (aka Mischief)-C
Bill (aka my biological father)- Bill
Nanny (aka My Sanity)- Nan
So there is a brief overview. As we progress, I will not leave you confused or in the dark, as I bring in new characters I will repost/revise my list with that entry.
As I close down this entry I will leave you with my latest Chronicle to help give you a taste of what this blog will be like. Ready?
Here we go...
Monday: I arrived home from classes to discover that in the closet I share with Abuela an entire rack had fallen down. The mess seemed endless and I called Red into the room to help decide on a course of action. He decided that a trip to Lowe's was in order.
I stayed behind in order to reorganize the things that had fallen, and saw this as a golden opportunity to purge the overcrowded closet of items that hadn't been worn since 1988 (including my raincoat from preschool..). When Abuela returned from work that evening I showed her what had happened and asked her what she thought of allowing me to reorganize our things (for future reference, everything has to be her idea, otherwise the answer is no). The martyrdom kicks in.
"Well ju know! I leeb dis house at 5am (more like 7) and don get home unteel 8 at nighbt!(more like 5:30) How can ju espet me to come home from werk an I ang eshausted !" Don't you think a simple " A, I think it's a great idea, but let's save it for the weekend." or "No, I'm really tired." ?
So I sat on the floor of the bathroom refolding more things that had fallen, and I remembered that I had been promising Abuela for months that I would reorganize our bathroom cabinets. With a burst of energy I got to work. I threw away things like surgical gloves (???), lotions that had turned yellow with age, cremes and medications that had expired in 1992, just to name a few. By the time I was done with half the bathroom I had two trashbags FULL of junk. Oh yeah, plus over 350 bars of hotel soap, and lipsticks she had worn in over 15 years.
Throughout my endeavor G was in the bathroom giving the kids a bath, marvelling at my organization of the cabinets and in agreement with every item I had thrown away. An hour later and I was almost done (I'm a quick worker). Abuela and Red came into the bathroom, not to inspect my work and show gratitude, but to tell me that they had gone through some of the things I had thrown away and told me that I had no right to throw away 15 year old lipsticks (what if she decided to one day put on makeup??) or 10 year old Preparation H (who would seriously still put that in their butt???).
So of course Abuela started yelling (because maybe she's going deaf? Not. She has only three volumes- loud, louder and piercingly shrill). "You habe no righ to trow abuay my tings!! Atrevida!!(brazen) Who are ju to jus trow tings away?!? Anser me!"
I have learned however, to do one of three things 1) Apologize for the error of my ways 2) Agree with everything ("Yes, you're right, I am ungrateful") 3) Play dumb. I went with the latter. After she stormed off, I decided it was time to retire from my expedition for the evening, and take up my cause at a later date.
Tuesday: I woke up for class (6:30 am- not my favorite...) and I went to the bathroom to see if Granny was done taking a shower- after all she goes to work at 5:30 in the morning right? Hahahahaha. I found her in her underwear frantically searching the bathroom for a needle and thread from a little sewing kit that she had (about 4 of those, that I threw away). I had never in all my 24 years seen that woman sew a button. She started crying. Not kidding. She began pulling out all the drawers in the bathroom. "Ju jus trow my tings abuay! I migh as well no eben esist! I don't eben wan to comming home to by own home tonigh! I can beliebe ju! Atrevida!"
She stormed out of the bathroom (that's her favorite behavior) and was running all over the house crying and repeating her previous words. So Tio in his I-need-Xanax-in-the-worst-way (at least that's what I think) came out of his room freaking out. "MOM?!? What's wrong?!? What happened?!? Are we being bombed?!?" (haha just kidding, I added the last one for emphasis...)
"Ob coorse! CHE trew EBERYTING! She is ungbeliebable! How can che?!? Che igs shangeless an brazan!" Which you will soon learn, that in my household feminism does not exist. They are very -Me Tarzan, You Jane.
"I know Mom, she has no right to do that to you. We'll handle it later."
She finally left for work- but not before taking the hairbrush with her.
I left for school that morning with my ritualistic coffee and sucked down 3 cigarettes before my classes began. Another touchy subject- I've already been cracked across the face for that discovery- but I keep smoking, the Lexapro just isn't enough to control my anxiety.
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