There's a really annoying, extremely cheesy greeting card-esque saying about cousins being childhood playmates who grow up to be "forever friends."
Yeah. Don't say I didn't warn you about the inherent cheesiness.
Anyway. I have a gazillion cousins, about a half-dozen who are right around the same ages as my brother and sister and I, and so growing up we always had built-in choices for slumber parties and birthday parties and zoo trips and museum trips and beach trips and camping trips...it was great. I remember one weekend that stands out from many where my brother and our cousin and I barely left my brother's room because we had built this elaborate, all-encompassing compound for our GI Joes. I mean, there was a landing strip and airfield for the F-14, and the headquarters complete with jail, and a barracks, and a mess hall...seriously. We were...obsessed dedicated.
(I think that was also around the time we would go on long reconnaissance missions through our neighborhood decked out in either dark clothes if it was dark or camo it it was day, our faces smeared with the army greasepaint our uncle had given us.)
But I've always been really thankful that we all got to grow up in such close proximity, and, for the most part, we're all still really close today.
That closeness and tradition has passed on to the next generation. With Kailin and Emily, and Sarah and Elizabeth's little sister, Kate, and their niece, Belyn, and Andrea's niece and nephews, there are seven kids between the ages of three and eight. They are always together at birthday parties and pool days and they've all got zoo and Sea World family passes, so they're frequently there as well.
I'm really glad Kailin and Emily get to experience what we did growing up, and I hope it continues as they get older.
Here's two of my favorite pictures from their zoo trip on Wednesday:
TO: My neighbors
FR: tom
DT: 5th July, 2008
RE: Really cool sounds
Here's an incomplete list of cool sounds:
- rain falling on Lake Tom
- Michelle Branch and Jessica Harp harmonizing about heartbreak
- ocean waves
- a powerful, well-tuned car engine
- a cat purring
- this one alto sax note Marc Russo hits at the end of "Local Hero" by the Yellowjackets
- a Hammond B-3 organ
- Rev Al Green singing anything
- wind through the pines in the Appalachicola National Forest
- a Bell UH-1 "Huey" helicopter
- good whiskey being poured into a glass full of ice
- a golf ball falling into the cup
- a home run swing
- a 98 mph fastball hitting the catcher's mitt
- steak sizzling over an oak fire
- an oak fire even without a steak
- YOUR STUPID CHEAP-ASS FIREWORKS
- YOUR ACCOMPANYING DRUNKEN SHOUTS AND LAUGHTER
t
PS: If any of your aforementioned cheap-ass fireworks were to explode and cause you injury, that--and the ensuing ambulance sounds--would merit special placement on the former list.
Sigh. I don't know how many of you all still use Vox, but I miss you guys. Anyway, I had a fun 4th watching fireworks.
I love fireworks. It rained right after the fireworks ended and I was stranded at a local 7-11 standing around with a bunch of ignorant teenagers talking shit and trying to steal stuff. Lame. Srsly. I hated high school kids when I was in high school, and things haven't changed. /end rant.
Yesterday my Aunt Patsy, mom's only sister, learned she is in Stage 3 Kidney Failure. She's two "points" away from Stage 4. Stage 5 is dialysis. Then one of two things happens. You get a kidney transplant or you die.
Not that this day is a huge deal in my life. I know the day signifies a major milestone for our country but aside from the hubby getting a day off from work and the excitment of fireworks I don't often ponder the meaning of Independence Day like I would Thanksgiving or Christmas or Easter.
This day does bring back memories though. Two years ago I was quite preggers. My due date was still over a week away but with concern over my high blood pressure and trips to the OB every few days I got the impression I'd be in the hospital with a baby before my "official" due date. I was put on bedrest near the end of June and was not able to go to the Rockeis fireworks game with Andy on the 3rd. He went and met some friends there. Unfortunately he did not get to enjoy the and of the game or the fireworks after. I was laying on the couch watching TV and began to see stars. A scary thing that could indicate preeclampsia. So after calling Andy he rushed home to take me down to the hospital. Thankfully everything checked out fine and they sent me home.
After yet another trip to the OB, I was scheduled for an induction. So we went in the Saturday after the 4th that year and Stephan came a little over 24 hours later. When it gets to be this time of year, that is probably the memory that I will most likely think about. The day the perfect little boy came into my life. And to think I so wanted him to be a girl ... maybe next time.
Happy birthday, USA! 232 years and you don't look a day over 200.
As my Quebec friend said: "something's old"
Yes, my poutine-filled friend, old indeed.
you said it slowly
complicated string quartets
warm words in icy breaths
when the smoke cleared it began
the thinking
the thinking
If you could do anything you want tomorrow, what would it be?
Submitted by Becca-Pink.
Sign a full-price-offered contract on our house!
(A girl can dream, eh?)
So I’m pushing my cart through Albertson’s this morning, minding my own business, when a round, jolly-looking woman comes from out of nowhere (I blame a ridiculously overstocked endcap) and runs her cart straight into the side of mine. There was a moment of startled silence before I spoke up.
“Well,” I deadpanned, “I guess we better exchange insurance information.”
At that, the rotund lady began laughing. Hysterically. And then she started to turn red. Then commenced coughing. And sort of shaking a little. I pretty much watched her pleasure turn into predicament in the span of maybe eight seconds. She was coughing so violently that I thought an internal organ might peek out her mouth momentarily. I started to move to her aid – rather instinctively, I now recollect – but she threw her hand up in that gesture that says, “It’s alright. Don’t freak out. I’ll be fine. This happens all the time.”
And sure enough, a few moments later, she was fully upright and breathing normally again. I think the redness probably lasted a while, though. Wiping her eyes, she said, “Lordy, that struck me funny. He he. Made me swallow hard.”
My relief that she was recovering completely overshadowed any pride I might have had in my flawlessly delivered bit of improv.
The moral of this story is if you’re an amateur and you go around trying to be funny all the time, your lack of professional experience is bound to end up causing casualties eventually. The right joke in the wrong hands delivered the right way to the wrong person might just have the power to kill.
Then the meaning of “funny” starts to slowly mutate until you no longer understand the difference between funny-haha and funny-ohgodthepain. Next thing you know, you’re so maniacally obsessed with making everyone understand your new brand of comedy, you’ll do anything to get their attention, including wear ghastly amounts of makeup and blow stuff up.
By the way, have I mentioned yet how excited I am about the impending premiere of The Dark Night, two weeks* from today? Oh, it’s going to be something. Yes, indeedy.
I’m so excited, in fact, that I made you guys this lovely VOX banner. Feel free to use it as you see fit, at least until WB sends a cease and desist. :-P
Now, in the spirit of early preparation, I must go look up where my nearest IMAX theater is...
*three weeks for my friends in the UK.
