Sit back folks, this one is going to be a long one. Don't worry I'll probably have nothing to say on Monday (cha! as if!)
On Tuesday nights my parents like to go to for 2-for-1 hamburgers at this bar in Mahopac. The waitress there is a chick I went to HS with. Now, I don't think we ever had a class together, but I did remember we did SOAC together--Basketball and Softball. I knew for sure her name was Jessica b/c she was one of the "People you may know" on Facebook,
and she got married since HS and has not listed her maiden name. My father insisted that I played soccer with a Jessica, who lived in Mahopac, and had a Polish last name. I named the only Polish chick I could think of, Briana Sudzinski, who is one of my BFF's and to my knowledge never played soccer with me, which frustrated Frita to no end saying "I know who Briana is!" I called this favorite Pollock to find out Jessica the Waitress' last name to make sure it wasn't Polish, before asking the waitress if she knew another Jessica we might have gone to school with.. (b/c you know you always remember people who had the same name as you.) She didn't. So I had to pull up my HS yearbooks when I got home. (For those of you who went to Lakeland, I'll let you puzzle this one out for a bit to see if you come up with the answer. You are better person than I if you can remember--and no, it's not Jess Fazio, another name I pulled out of the hat that I received THAT'S NOT POLISH! for my dad... hehe...)
and by "classic rock", I mean Garth Brooks.
The yearbook... I didn't get a chance to really dig in. I will say I read the top line of Debina's... and it made me chuckle. Apparently in 97 what my soccer team remembered of me was shockingly not my skillz on the field but my penchant for creating odd cheers that made the team giggle while the coach wanted to ring my neck (which is unfortunate as I was always so close to him sitting on the bench as I so often was) when I read the word "IRRIGATION!" on every page of my book.
I had two friends who were probably BFF given that every year they wrote 2 completely colorful and filled pages of all of our good times together--signing their names with (Bitch 1 and Bitch 2) which was funny at the time I gave them the nick names .. I laughed out loud when I saw it. But the piece de resistance was Janette Fong and her delightful recap of our adventures filled with ad libs, stick figures, the progression of the L.C. to the Champagne Wonder (what I so lovingly called my first car), and the painful yet wildly funny reminder that the one day we decided we were going to throw a big party, anisa abid had decided to throw a party inviting everyone but us--thus accurately wrapping up my high school experience in such a neat lil bow. :) and sadly...
I know! and I haven't even told you about my week yet!
Friday night started a nearly 24 hour QT with my nieces. I may have mentioned my tactics with small children... but I'll recap: First, I indulge every safe request, do everything, get everything, give everything they want. Second, I try to pack as much fun as I can into whatever time I have. Lastly, I try not to yell unless they might actually physically harm themselves. My 24 hours started with "Aunt Carla does this when she's with us.... " to which I said "Do we have to do whatever Aunt Carla does?" We jumped on the trampoline, washed the car (throwing them on the top of the van, getting wet and sudsy in the hot sun), ordered Domino's, made special treats, watched the original Parent Trap with Haley Mills and Anastasia while adorning ourselves with fake nails and other manicure goodness, was woken up at 5:30 am, watched Beverly Hills Chuwawua ( I have no clue how to spell that..) until Jackie got up, then we went to the Diner got Waffles and Ice Cream with Milkshakes washed down with a side of Bacon, went to the park and climbed this super cool spider web thing, checked out the pet store, went grocery shopping (on Bailey's request b/c I must say going shopping with me (a very non adult) is super fun--getting to pick out whatever they wanted--Bail's wanted limes and tomato sauce btw), watched Parent Trap 2, and some more trampoline time... and what did I hear at the close of my 24 hours? "Can we call Aunt Carla to come over?"
So Aunt Carla, I tip my hat to you. You win this round of kids my friend, you win.
Just when you were hoping that I was done! Alas! There is so much more! Take a break, grab a soda-pop, I'll be here when you return.
My friends from college, Julie and Nick, came to visit on Sunday. We decided to go down to the city. I arrived ten minutes late to meet them at Sean's b/c I got distracted by chatting with Mo over coffee (typical), so I was carrying my sneaks in with me and my brother told me that to wear sneakers would make me look like a tourist. Not my bright colors or carrying a map mind you... (Though that Not for tourists Guide is AWESOME Jan-et-te!). Let's just say when we returned my brother and parents had a good ol time mocking the "Tiffany Tour" that included seeing sites, but not participating, and visiting neighborhoods that no one else in their right minds would take people. Plus I ended up with blisters, but at least I didn't look like a tourist! Luckily, I think J&N still love me--and really you can listen to my jibber jabber just as well walking around the financial district as you can hiking or chilling in my living room. Right? At least now they have a reason to say...
See you in June!
I debated whether or not to share this last one... but then hey, I have no shame, and you are my nearest and dearest. My mother politely and rather slyly explained to me why I don't have a boyfriend. She developed the case over an hour period by asking seemingly innocuous questions to which I answered honestly until all of a sudden I was admitting attributes that aren't necessarily flattering, until my mother concluded "Maybe, just maybe you might try being nice to people when you meet them instead of being sarcastic, or mocking, or generally digging into them before you know their name." to which I replied "But I'm only nice to people I don't like!" and she said "right, perhaps not the best strategy in life." Good Lord do I hate the percentage of how often that woman is right. I almost want to ask for a second opinion, but I'm afraid to make confirmation. But seriously? Nice? Me? How incredibly boring!? Even if I wanted to be, even if I was on my best behavior, my "sweet" and "polite" phrases often come off dripping with sarcasm. Son of a B. In summary:
Kids, Thanks for Listening In. Check ya on the flip side!