in memoriam of memorial day weekend.

Ahhh… what a lovely three-day weekend I’ve had.

Friday.
Went out with the illustrious IndyGirl and my wonderful friend E to celebrate Lori’s birthday. Got tanked.

Saturday.
Felt like ass in the morning. Things got much better, though, after my vegan mashed potatoes and iced mocha. Yum, yum, yum. Went out later for Greek food with Manny and three of his old buddies (I mean old as in longevity, not age). Then I went home by myself while they stayed out. I ate ice cream and finished off the first eight episodes of the first season of The L Word. Hung out into the wee hours of the morning with Manny and listened to music from the nineties. Remarked on how much we both appreciate early Everclear. Decided that “Santa Monica” will be my new karaoke song.

Sunday.
Slept in. Stayed in. It was hot as hell outside. Made Manny a Chef Boyardee pizza for his birthday. Gave him a Christian birthday card and got him a giant bakery cookie with the word “Splunge” written on it. Watched Dr. Strangelove. Then hung around in bed watching Braveheart. During a commercial break, we had the following conversation:

Gigi: (rubs ass on Manny) Yeah, I know what you like. Know what you like?

Manny: Yeah. (flips to TV to history channel) Ships.

Monday.
Woke up relatively early. Went running in park. Washed car. Parents came to town. Hung out with parents at the mall. Dinner at Olive Garden with parents. Hell yeah.

And that, friends, was my weekend.

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i’m a big sister!

Well, okay, that shouldn’t be news. I’ve been a big sister for exactly nineteen years now. I have one younger sister, Lisa, and two younger brothers – Mark and Stuart. They are all very lovely young people, and I like to think that I had something to do with that.

At any rate, I first became a big sister on this day, May 26, in 1987. I was three and a half. I was hanging out with my grandma, as I did back in those days. I remember going to the hospital and being made to scrub my hands very thoroughly. I also had to wear a little hospital gown that was yellow and covered with trains. I got to hold my “baby brother Marky,” who looked very much to me like a strange, bald, wrinkled, tiny old man. The nurses at the hospital gave me a little metal pin that said “I’M A BIG SISTER!” This all seemed very fun to me, I’m sure. And then they brought him home.

Obviously my parents had been prepping me with the whole “you’re going to have to be a big girl and help Mommy and Daddy out with the baby” bit, but I had no idea what I was in for. Over the next 18 years, Mark would simultaneously be my best friend and my biggest nemesis, a walking disaster and a brilliant genius, a Boy Scout and a Spice Girl. As a baby, he was jaundiced and accident-prone. He didn’t speak comprehendable English until he was about five, and he was potty-trained around the same time. He was horribly uncoordinated and goofy. And while I was capable of being a good big sister most of the time, I had times where I was just a big bully. I won’t go into the specifics of those times, but trust me – they happened.

Despite the fact that I was mean to him, despite the fact that it took him damn near a year to learn how to ride a bike, despite the fact that he used to actually allow my friends and I to dress him up like a girl, Mark has turned out to be one of the most intelligent, amazing, kind, and wonderful people I’ve ever known. It takes a truly exceptional person – a teenager at that – to spend their spare time volunteering at nursing homes and helping old people figure out how to use a computer. He’s a talented pianist (yeah, he’s even better than me), he speaks fluent German, he cares about politics and current events (now that is my influence), he’s always up for a road trip or adventure, and he’s one of my favorite people.

Marky, I just want you to know how so very proud of you I am. I’m proud to know you, but I’m even prouder to be able to say I’m your sister. You never cease to amaze me, and I love you so much.

Frohe Geburtstag, kleiner Bruder.

uh oh.

Something strange is happening. Yesterday, I found myself amazed by the selection Sam’s Club has to offer. I went for the first time and was pretty much in awe the whole time.

Then, this morning, I found myself engrossed in a CNN.com story about American Idol. I was even reading the “where are they now?” galleries.

I am also misspelling words more frequently.

Someone please help me.

eggstraction.

Tonight, Kitten and I were going to make scrambled eggs. I got the bowl out and showed her how to break an egg. I handed her one and said, “Okay, do you know what to do?”

“Uh huh,” she replied.

“Okay, break that egg.”

She cupped the egg in both her hands and looked at it. She then stared at it with a look of fierce determination. She shook it violently in her cupped hands, and in a low voice, she growled to the egg, “Get… out… get… OUT!”

my blog is becoming a home for lists and random thoughts.

A late-in-the-day post. I’ve had a headache all day. It’s originating from my teeth. I should have gotten more than three hours of sleep. Despite this, I’ve been able to function exceptionally well. I should take a vitamin. I’m afraid I’d choke on it, though. I need a gel-cap vitamin. I’m actually a little sad that I have finished Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim already. I just bought it Saturday. I love David Sedaris. Love, love, love. I joined Netflix today. I don’t know why. It probably just has to do with the fact that I’m too lazy to actually stop at the movie store. Well, combine that with the fact that I owe probably every movie store in town late fees. The fact that Netflix offered me a two-week free trial didn’t hurt, either. I have the first season of The L Word in my queue, followed by Born Into Brothels, The Eyes of Tammy Faye, and The Dead Poets Society. I think that’s an eclectic combination. I am looking forward to the day when I can be called an “eccentric” old lady. If I’m going to be an old lady, you can bet your ass I will be as eccentric as possible. I’m looking forward to watching the Yankees vs. the Red Sox tonight. Mostly because I’ll get to hang out with Manny. It’s been a boring day. I’m ready to go home.

practically writes itself.

These are all police reports from a town in which I no longer reside:

  • Suspicious activity involving two males dressed in “Gothic” clothing
  • Suspicious activity involving a woman going door-to-door asking to live with residents for a contest
  • Criminal mischief involving a male subject stuffing clothing down his pants and urinating on them
  • Medical problem involving an intoxicated female drinking mouthwash
  • Information from a neighbor concerned about another neighbor with ducks and chickens
  • Family fight involving a 14-year-old male who put his mother in a headlock
  • Disorderly conduct involving neighbors playing loud music and chopping wood
  • Family fight involving a male subject mad because his wife wouldn’t go to a concert. The female said the male pushed her out of a rocking chair.
  • Family fight involving a female subject hitting a male subject on the head with a skillet. The man told police he was bleeding profusely.
  • Juvenile problem involving a female with ratty hair refusing to go to school
  • Family fight at funeral home
  • Battery involving a juvenile tattooed by an adult
  • Theft of unknown items, Dollar General Store