Giving Thanks
I went home for an extended Thanksgiving break last week. A week ago exactly, I just arrived back home and got in my favorite chair and began the week-long relaxation process. Of course, I brought work to do, just like everyone else does. And, just like everyone else, I did absolutely none of it. I did, however, manage to compile a list of the things that happened during the weekend. In the third installment, here's what went down on the CT farm: (no, I don't live on a farm, but compared to Boston, it's quite... rustic.)
The day after I got home, I went out to dinner with my mom and sister. I locked the front door, and when I got in the car, my mom yelled at me. "Don't! If there's a problem with the garage, we won't be able to get in." "Ugh," said my sister, "why'd you lock it? Go back." "Go back," repeated my mother. Only in my family. Am I nuts, or do most people have house keys? Isn't that a pretty standard item? A key to your front door? I don't even want to put this in here, because I'm not proud of it. To avoid issues with my mother and sister, I did go back and unlock the door. And I wasn't happy about it. I don't care that we live in Pleasantville; forget safety - it's just too insane that we don't have a key to our own front door. That's so messed up, I don't even know that there's a proper joke to be made.
Along the same lines, I was watching Oprah that day and I saw Betty Broderick's son appear on the show. Betty Broderick is a woman who went nuts after her husband divorced her (admittedly probably having an affair at the time with his secretary) and then killed him and his new wife (the one he had the affair with.) Anyway, her son was on the show, prompting a family member - who, for the member's own dignity, will remain nameles - to say "Betty Broderick doesn't deserve all this punishment. Okay, maybe she shouldn't have killed the wife, but him? He deserved it. She's okay, Betty Broderick." I got nothing, only that it's not good when you suddenly get the scary-chills when you're sitting in your favorite chair in your (unlocked because your family HAS NO KEY!) house.
My sister brought up the best question she's ever asked me. We were watching TV (a common theme throughout the week) when she said, "You know, I've been wanting to ask you. How come you made me wash out that glass at mom's party?" See, when my mom had her birthday party, this whacko woman was the only one who couldn't drink out of a plastic cup. She made us get her a wine glass. So my sister got one, and I kept telling her to wash it out, just in case there was dust or anything. I was adamant. Anyway, her question is great. "I have absolutely no idea," I told her. "Excellent question though. Excellent question." I still have no idea. You don't give a crack addict crack. You don't give a whacko what she wants - and then go out of your way to be nice about it! What was wrong with me? I don't know. I remember being like, "Wow, what a rude freak," and I do remember telling my sister to wash out the glass. I hope she didn't follow my request, at the very least. I'm glad she brought it up, even though it was a few weeks later. It's good to know she keeps tabs on things like this, so they don't happen in the future. Ever.
Okay, this has been coming for a while: what the fuck is up with Atoosa, the editor of Miss Seventeen? First of all, how can someone named Atoosa get anywhere in life? Can you take that name seriously? I call her Tooty. Anyway, there's this show where all these girls live together and do various tasks trying to become the cover girl for Seventeen magazine and earn an internship. It's the most annoying show on TV, mainly because of two of the characters: Tooty and Jen. I'll get to Tooty in a second, but Jen is absolutely the whiniest crybaby ever to be on TV. I wish she were on Making the Band. Those girls would eat her alive, and Diddy would spit her out. All she does is cry. About everything. Every time something good happens, she cries. God forbid anybody give her any criticism - waterworks. Seriously, I was trying to make the joke, "Okay, Jen, cry now," after Atoosa said something like, "Jen, you did a nice job but you picked out the wrong shade of pillows." The joke died because guess what? She DID cry. Every time I think, "Okay, it would be absolutely ridiculous for her to cry right now..." she cries! Horrible. Atoosa is just as bad, if not worse. Who runs a successful teen magazine like this? She is horrible on TV, awkward as hell. These girls worship her, and all these awkward, "Atoosa is like Jesus to me," (I SWEAR this was a line) are all over the place during the show. Puke. Also, she has them do demeaning tasks like decorate a cute boy's dorm room. So glad we're teaching the girls of America - Seventeen's audience - to be independent and strong and capable. Nice touch.
Josh Beckett's coming to the Red Sox!!! He's got the guts of a burglar!!!
Just a note: I'm still not over a few things in life. One, when I was in third grade, I had to go have some educational testing done and the lady said she'd play Jenga with me when we were done. We never played Jenga, and I never forgave her for it. Years later, my brother had to go for the same thing and guess what? He played Jenga all the freaking time. I don't care. This woman is a liar to me. I still have issues with Jenga. Second, I worked my ass off in my chemistry class freshman year. I mean the works - doing every homework problem, outlining every chapter, never taking any shortcut. I ended up with a B+ for the year, even though it could easily have gone the other way to an A-. Kills me, every time I think about it.
They ended the Rev Run show, Run's House. Easily the best six episodes of any reality show. I'd put Newlyweds in there too, but it's to depressing right now. Nick and Jessica... noooooooooo!!
Randomly, in the middle of dinner at the Chinese restaurant, this guy yelled out, "Holy Crap!" three times. Nobody even looked in his direction, except me, my mom, and my sister. Meanwhile, my mom was talking kinda loudly during dinner and then when we would get into a little debate, we'd all talk a little loudly. Of course, everyone stared US down. Forget the "Holy crap!" Tourette's guy.
Every time we get Chinese food, we read the fortune cookies. (Who doesn't, when you think about it.) On the back, there's often a word in Chinese that my sister and I read to each other and give a clue about what it means. I don't know why we do this, but it's definitely not the strangest tradition. Anyway, I said to my sister, "Si-yue showers bring May flowers." My sister says, "spring?" Jesus.
We went to my brother's school show after our dinner. This guy comes over, stands behind the seats for a minute and says, "Hannah?" None of us respond. "Hannah? Hannah?" He's leaning right towards my sister now. Finally, he's right behind her face, really. "HANNAH?" My sister turns aroud. "Oh, you're not Hannah." Ladies and gentlemen, we have a genius. If you're about two inches away from someone, practically shouting their name, don't you think they'd turn around? Just an idea. This actually reminds me of my single favorite Warren memory. I was in the dining hall with my friend Liz, having lunch. A few feet behind Liz, this guy started saying, "Liz?" but she couldn't quite hear him. He kept going. "Liz? Liz? Liz? Liz? LIZ?" Finally, I tell her to turn around, I think someone's trying to get her attention. She does, and he nods and says, "Hey." And then he walked away. I still do this to her, when I see her, two years later. "Liz? Liz? Liz? LIZ! LIZ! .... hey." Gets me, every single time. Hannah? Hannah? HANNAH?!?!
Random joke from my brother: What's the difference between Michael Jackson and the moon?
The moon is round, and Michael Jackson molests little kids.
He followed it up with: Why'd the guy drop his lollipop while crossing the street?
He got hit by a truck.
My brother's sense of humor is ridiculous.
I was watching "True Life" on MTV. It was True Life: Jersey Shore. This girl met this guy in a club and in the worst exchange in cable history, this took place:
Girl: Do you believe in love at first sight?
Guy: Now I do. You know I'm coming home with you, right?
Cue the happily-ever-after-with-three-kids-and-a-trailer-and-a-summer-share-in-Jersey-credits.
My brother and I had this conversation on Wednesday. I had a lint-roller at the counter from my fleece (it's one of those rolly things that you roll on your clothes to delint them). I told him I was upset with him because he hadn't given my momthis CD I made for her, even though I told him to do it and he said okay. Apparently, he still needed clarification as to why I was angry, because he kept asking me why I was mad. This is actually what he said to me, taking the lint roller and holding it up like a lethal blunt object:
"Tell me or I'll lint your face!"
"It's delint, moron."
"Tell me!"
"You already know why I'm mad."
"Okay, forgive me! Or I'll lint your face!"
You gotta give him that he understands a few key concepts here.
A few minutes later, I successfully made my brother scream like a little girl when I stood outside the bathroom and waited for him to come out and shout, "Boo!" Yup, we had some time on our hands.
Another gem from the brother: "Did you know England, France, Zimbabwe, Australia, New Zealand, France... all don't celebrate Thanksgiving? Do you think they even have a nice turkey dinner?" Probably not, Mike. Probably not.
And more: As we drove into this shopping plaza, my brother said to me, "That's where we're taking you, Elana... Animal City." He didn't even crack a smile.
Oh, wait, more: At dinner that night, the waitress only asked my dad if he wanted some wine. Didn't even look my way to offer. "It's your bangs," explained my brother. Oh. Of course.
"They should put me in charge of the world," said my dad later that night.
"Hey, I think the same thing about me," I told him.
There was a pause for a moment.
"Well, we should be. We have the judgment."
Oh man, hold up. The crowning comedic moment happened later that evening. This moment will be one of the all-time funny moments in my family history. My sister came home from shopping with her friends, and with her, she had this jacket. She put it on, and I remember thinking, "Wow, that looks snug, even on my skinny sister." Without prompting, she said, "I even got it cheap, because I got it from the kids' store." Hmm. "What size is it?" I asked her. She hesitated. She didn't want to say. She finally said, "No, you'll make fun of me." "No I won't," I said. (Well, I went back on that. It was worth it though. Ten times out of ten, after hearing what she said next, I'd go back on it. No question.) "Fine," she said. "It's a kids' medium." I couldn't help it - I went through the roof. I don't even have the time or space to go through all the jokes we made:
"Hmm, that reminds me, there was this cute infant onesie I liked for myself I meant to pick up."
"Did you steal that from a child?"
"Hey, maybe Saturday, we can go to Gymboree. I hear they're having a sale."
"What is wrong with your friends who were like, 'Yeah, get a jacket that's made for a six year old?' "
"You do realize, you are wearing an item that was intended for someone half your age. Double your IQ, but half your age."
"I don't care that I said I wouldn't make fun of you. How could I fathom something this good?"
"This is easily the stupidest thing you have ever, ever done."
"The kids at the school you tutor at giving you fashion tips again, I see."
"Wait a minute, it's way past your bedtime!"
Even twenty four hours later, my brother yelled at my sister when she wasn't cooperating, "You do this or there's no trip to Gap kids for you!"
God, I cry just thinking about it.
My sister and I were later teasing my brother and torturing him by pretending to cut his hair. He got all riled up. "You haircut cunt!" We stopped after that. (As a side note, I apologize if anybody is offended by the word cunt. You'd have to hear my brother say it though. That's what gets him mad - even when he's angry, he says stuff with such diction and tone that you have to laugh. When we were kids, he'd beat us up, and we'd be laughing at the determination in his face as he did it. This made him even angrier. Same thing with cunt. He says it, and his tone is mad, but you know he's not meaning it in the way that would truly offend people. I swear, the kid is a comedic genius.)
Later, my sister asked my brother to change her away message to say "Happy Thanksgiving." This was the second dumbest thing my sister did this weekend. If you know my brother, you never ask him to change your away message. Anyway, she kept saying, "It better say Happy Thanksgiving, or you're gonna die." I had my laptop, so I checked he message. "Toilet attack... Happy Thanksgiving." Leave it to Michael.
My sister's friend Anaar came over after Thanksgiving to have dessert.
"Hartford ranks seventh on the list of cities with a lot to do," she told us. We kept telling her she must have read this wrong - like clicked on the "worst cities" list instead and got mixed up, but she was (idiotically) adamant.
"Anaar," I told her, "I love you, you're wrong."
"Anaar," my brother said right after that, "I don't love you, you're wrong."
This was creepy: A Thanksgiving guest said this of his crazy mother (who is crazy, I admit): "There is only one way to act around my mother without bloodshed, and that's agree with everything." In my three interactions with this woman, I've disagreed with everything she's said and been openly rude to her. I'm seeing some bloodshed in my future.
Seriously, who buy's a kid's medium?
I know! A second grader!
Oh, this was scaring. On Friday, my dad, sister and I wanted to go see a movie but we had to call the theater to get the movie times because that's what the paper said to do. So I called the theater to see when a few movies were playing, and we were in a restaurant at the time having breakfast. I called up, and it was busy, busy... then finally, I got through. I thought I heard something about "one screen... X rated adult films," but I was like, "God, this restaurant is loud, I think they just said something about pornos." Then, this creepy guy voice continues, "Today's showing is, "Drill her in the ass." I hung up and got all skeeved out.
"What's wrong?" my father asked from across the table.
"I... I.... "
"You called the wrong movie theater, didn't you?"
Once we got to the correct movie theater, my sister went out to get a drink. The girl is the skinniest thing ever, and all she does is eat. Anyway, she took $20 from my dad and returned with a small drink and some chocolate covered almonds. My dad held up the change. "$12.25 left. For what? A soda and some candy!"
"I thought you'd want these," my sister said, pointing to the candy. The thing was, we'd just had brunch. Only my sister can eat continuously like this.
"No," he said.
"Do you want me to return them?"
"No."
"I can return them."
"How much were they?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
She shrugged.
"You don't know? You have no idea how much you paid for this?"
"I got them for you!"
"You're not going to eat them?"
"I'll have a few."
"How much did you pay for them?"
"I'll go return them."
"Hold on, let me see how much they give you for... for what? We don't even know."
"I'm returning them."
"Well, if you'll eat them, fine."
"They're for you."
"I'm not going to eat them."
"I'm going to return them." She left to return them.
"Can you believe that?" he asked me. My sister returned with $3.50.
"That soda was $4.25?!?"
"It must have been," I said.
"That's impossible. You want to make a bet?"
"Sure. What are we betting?"
"The price of the soda."
"Okay." He got up to go check the prices.
"You owe me $4.25," he said when he got back. "She got charged the wrong price."
"What?" asked my sister.
"You got charged for the medium, when you got a small. You have to watch these things, Stephanie. You have to pay attention. Do you just not check to make sure you're getting the right change?"
At this point, the lights started to dim so my dad sat down. All of a sudden we hear these two clangs as the quarters fall out of my dad's pocket. This made all three of us laugh, and after the movie, my father spent a good two minutes scouring the floor for his 50 cents. I'm not sure my sister will ever get any concessions at a movie again.
My mom can be a pretty negative person, which kills me. We were watching "Spanglish" on TV later that night when she was like, "I hate this movie." On the movie "Shall We Dance," which I switched to because I figured she'd like that better, she again said, "I hate this movie." Then, on the news, her negativity roll hit an all-time high when she said, "I hate how they have to switch lines, every second." We put her on a negativity probation for five minutes. She couldn't say anything negative from 11:23 PM EST to 11:28 PM EST. She made it to approximately 11:24:03 PM EST before commenting on hating Jennifer Lopez. For the record, I'm not a fan either, but that's besides the point. Plus, she was already getting some serious lee-way for nasty faces.
And finally, some highlights from my brother, continued, to wrap it up:
"Some kid's gonna have to donate hair to you instead of locks for love because you're not gonna have any hair!" Nobody makes threats quite like him.
He announced that our neighbor was the "bravest woman ever." "Remember the time she killed all the bees in the tree?" Right. Forget Rosa Parks, Joan of Arc, Amelia Earhart.. think of any brave woman. None of them mean anything to my brother. Maybe someone who kills birds. She'd beat out my neighbor, but that's it.
"Cheese is a risky object for Jews."
Between him and my sister:
Michael: Turn around.
Stephanie: Why?
Michael: Turn around, I want to kick your ass.
Stephanie: No.
Michael: Come on, just once.
So there it is A week at home. What can I say, it really was a trip.
The day after I got home, I went out to dinner with my mom and sister. I locked the front door, and when I got in the car, my mom yelled at me. "Don't! If there's a problem with the garage, we won't be able to get in." "Ugh," said my sister, "why'd you lock it? Go back." "Go back," repeated my mother. Only in my family. Am I nuts, or do most people have house keys? Isn't that a pretty standard item? A key to your front door? I don't even want to put this in here, because I'm not proud of it. To avoid issues with my mother and sister, I did go back and unlock the door. And I wasn't happy about it. I don't care that we live in Pleasantville; forget safety - it's just too insane that we don't have a key to our own front door. That's so messed up, I don't even know that there's a proper joke to be made.
Along the same lines, I was watching Oprah that day and I saw Betty Broderick's son appear on the show. Betty Broderick is a woman who went nuts after her husband divorced her (admittedly probably having an affair at the time with his secretary) and then killed him and his new wife (the one he had the affair with.) Anyway, her son was on the show, prompting a family member - who, for the member's own dignity, will remain nameles - to say "Betty Broderick doesn't deserve all this punishment. Okay, maybe she shouldn't have killed the wife, but him? He deserved it. She's okay, Betty Broderick." I got nothing, only that it's not good when you suddenly get the scary-chills when you're sitting in your favorite chair in your (unlocked because your family HAS NO KEY!) house.
My sister brought up the best question she's ever asked me. We were watching TV (a common theme throughout the week) when she said, "You know, I've been wanting to ask you. How come you made me wash out that glass at mom's party?" See, when my mom had her birthday party, this whacko woman was the only one who couldn't drink out of a plastic cup. She made us get her a wine glass. So my sister got one, and I kept telling her to wash it out, just in case there was dust or anything. I was adamant. Anyway, her question is great. "I have absolutely no idea," I told her. "Excellent question though. Excellent question." I still have no idea. You don't give a crack addict crack. You don't give a whacko what she wants - and then go out of your way to be nice about it! What was wrong with me? I don't know. I remember being like, "Wow, what a rude freak," and I do remember telling my sister to wash out the glass. I hope she didn't follow my request, at the very least. I'm glad she brought it up, even though it was a few weeks later. It's good to know she keeps tabs on things like this, so they don't happen in the future. Ever.
Okay, this has been coming for a while: what the fuck is up with Atoosa, the editor of Miss Seventeen? First of all, how can someone named Atoosa get anywhere in life? Can you take that name seriously? I call her Tooty. Anyway, there's this show where all these girls live together and do various tasks trying to become the cover girl for Seventeen magazine and earn an internship. It's the most annoying show on TV, mainly because of two of the characters: Tooty and Jen. I'll get to Tooty in a second, but Jen is absolutely the whiniest crybaby ever to be on TV. I wish she were on Making the Band. Those girls would eat her alive, and Diddy would spit her out. All she does is cry. About everything. Every time something good happens, she cries. God forbid anybody give her any criticism - waterworks. Seriously, I was trying to make the joke, "Okay, Jen, cry now," after Atoosa said something like, "Jen, you did a nice job but you picked out the wrong shade of pillows." The joke died because guess what? She DID cry. Every time I think, "Okay, it would be absolutely ridiculous for her to cry right now..." she cries! Horrible. Atoosa is just as bad, if not worse. Who runs a successful teen magazine like this? She is horrible on TV, awkward as hell. These girls worship her, and all these awkward, "Atoosa is like Jesus to me," (I SWEAR this was a line) are all over the place during the show. Puke. Also, she has them do demeaning tasks like decorate a cute boy's dorm room. So glad we're teaching the girls of America - Seventeen's audience - to be independent and strong and capable. Nice touch.
Josh Beckett's coming to the Red Sox!!! He's got the guts of a burglar!!!
Just a note: I'm still not over a few things in life. One, when I was in third grade, I had to go have some educational testing done and the lady said she'd play Jenga with me when we were done. We never played Jenga, and I never forgave her for it. Years later, my brother had to go for the same thing and guess what? He played Jenga all the freaking time. I don't care. This woman is a liar to me. I still have issues with Jenga. Second, I worked my ass off in my chemistry class freshman year. I mean the works - doing every homework problem, outlining every chapter, never taking any shortcut. I ended up with a B+ for the year, even though it could easily have gone the other way to an A-. Kills me, every time I think about it.
They ended the Rev Run show, Run's House. Easily the best six episodes of any reality show. I'd put Newlyweds in there too, but it's to depressing right now. Nick and Jessica... noooooooooo!!
Randomly, in the middle of dinner at the Chinese restaurant, this guy yelled out, "Holy Crap!" three times. Nobody even looked in his direction, except me, my mom, and my sister. Meanwhile, my mom was talking kinda loudly during dinner and then when we would get into a little debate, we'd all talk a little loudly. Of course, everyone stared US down. Forget the "Holy crap!" Tourette's guy.
Every time we get Chinese food, we read the fortune cookies. (Who doesn't, when you think about it.) On the back, there's often a word in Chinese that my sister and I read to each other and give a clue about what it means. I don't know why we do this, but it's definitely not the strangest tradition. Anyway, I said to my sister, "Si-yue showers bring May flowers." My sister says, "spring?" Jesus.
We went to my brother's school show after our dinner. This guy comes over, stands behind the seats for a minute and says, "Hannah?" None of us respond. "Hannah? Hannah?" He's leaning right towards my sister now. Finally, he's right behind her face, really. "HANNAH?" My sister turns aroud. "Oh, you're not Hannah." Ladies and gentlemen, we have a genius. If you're about two inches away from someone, practically shouting their name, don't you think they'd turn around? Just an idea. This actually reminds me of my single favorite Warren memory. I was in the dining hall with my friend Liz, having lunch. A few feet behind Liz, this guy started saying, "Liz?" but she couldn't quite hear him. He kept going. "Liz? Liz? Liz? Liz? LIZ?" Finally, I tell her to turn around, I think someone's trying to get her attention. She does, and he nods and says, "Hey." And then he walked away. I still do this to her, when I see her, two years later. "Liz? Liz? Liz? LIZ! LIZ! .... hey." Gets me, every single time. Hannah? Hannah? HANNAH?!?!
Random joke from my brother: What's the difference between Michael Jackson and the moon?
The moon is round, and Michael Jackson molests little kids.
He followed it up with: Why'd the guy drop his lollipop while crossing the street?
He got hit by a truck.
My brother's sense of humor is ridiculous.
I was watching "True Life" on MTV. It was True Life: Jersey Shore. This girl met this guy in a club and in the worst exchange in cable history, this took place:
Girl: Do you believe in love at first sight?
Guy: Now I do. You know I'm coming home with you, right?
Cue the happily-ever-after-with-three-kids-and-a-trailer-and-a-summer-share-in-Jersey-credits.
My brother and I had this conversation on Wednesday. I had a lint-roller at the counter from my fleece (it's one of those rolly things that you roll on your clothes to delint them). I told him I was upset with him because he hadn't given my momthis CD I made for her, even though I told him to do it and he said okay. Apparently, he still needed clarification as to why I was angry, because he kept asking me why I was mad. This is actually what he said to me, taking the lint roller and holding it up like a lethal blunt object:
"Tell me or I'll lint your face!"
"It's delint, moron."
"Tell me!"
"You already know why I'm mad."
"Okay, forgive me! Or I'll lint your face!"
You gotta give him that he understands a few key concepts here.
A few minutes later, I successfully made my brother scream like a little girl when I stood outside the bathroom and waited for him to come out and shout, "Boo!" Yup, we had some time on our hands.
Another gem from the brother: "Did you know England, France, Zimbabwe, Australia, New Zealand, France... all don't celebrate Thanksgiving? Do you think they even have a nice turkey dinner?" Probably not, Mike. Probably not.
And more: As we drove into this shopping plaza, my brother said to me, "That's where we're taking you, Elana... Animal City." He didn't even crack a smile.
Oh, wait, more: At dinner that night, the waitress only asked my dad if he wanted some wine. Didn't even look my way to offer. "It's your bangs," explained my brother. Oh. Of course.
"They should put me in charge of the world," said my dad later that night.
"Hey, I think the same thing about me," I told him.
There was a pause for a moment.
"Well, we should be. We have the judgment."
Oh man, hold up. The crowning comedic moment happened later that evening. This moment will be one of the all-time funny moments in my family history. My sister came home from shopping with her friends, and with her, she had this jacket. She put it on, and I remember thinking, "Wow, that looks snug, even on my skinny sister." Without prompting, she said, "I even got it cheap, because I got it from the kids' store." Hmm. "What size is it?" I asked her. She hesitated. She didn't want to say. She finally said, "No, you'll make fun of me." "No I won't," I said. (Well, I went back on that. It was worth it though. Ten times out of ten, after hearing what she said next, I'd go back on it. No question.) "Fine," she said. "It's a kids' medium." I couldn't help it - I went through the roof. I don't even have the time or space to go through all the jokes we made:
"Hmm, that reminds me, there was this cute infant onesie I liked for myself I meant to pick up."
"Did you steal that from a child?"
"Hey, maybe Saturday, we can go to Gymboree. I hear they're having a sale."
"What is wrong with your friends who were like, 'Yeah, get a jacket that's made for a six year old?' "
"You do realize, you are wearing an item that was intended for someone half your age. Double your IQ, but half your age."
"I don't care that I said I wouldn't make fun of you. How could I fathom something this good?"
"This is easily the stupidest thing you have ever, ever done."
"The kids at the school you tutor at giving you fashion tips again, I see."
"Wait a minute, it's way past your bedtime!"
Even twenty four hours later, my brother yelled at my sister when she wasn't cooperating, "You do this or there's no trip to Gap kids for you!"
God, I cry just thinking about it.
My sister and I were later teasing my brother and torturing him by pretending to cut his hair. He got all riled up. "You haircut cunt!" We stopped after that. (As a side note, I apologize if anybody is offended by the word cunt. You'd have to hear my brother say it though. That's what gets him mad - even when he's angry, he says stuff with such diction and tone that you have to laugh. When we were kids, he'd beat us up, and we'd be laughing at the determination in his face as he did it. This made him even angrier. Same thing with cunt. He says it, and his tone is mad, but you know he's not meaning it in the way that would truly offend people. I swear, the kid is a comedic genius.)
Later, my sister asked my brother to change her away message to say "Happy Thanksgiving." This was the second dumbest thing my sister did this weekend. If you know my brother, you never ask him to change your away message. Anyway, she kept saying, "It better say Happy Thanksgiving, or you're gonna die." I had my laptop, so I checked he message. "Toilet attack... Happy Thanksgiving." Leave it to Michael.
My sister's friend Anaar came over after Thanksgiving to have dessert.
"Hartford ranks seventh on the list of cities with a lot to do," she told us. We kept telling her she must have read this wrong - like clicked on the "worst cities" list instead and got mixed up, but she was (idiotically) adamant.
"Anaar," I told her, "I love you, you're wrong."
"Anaar," my brother said right after that, "I don't love you, you're wrong."
This was creepy: A Thanksgiving guest said this of his crazy mother (who is crazy, I admit): "There is only one way to act around my mother without bloodshed, and that's agree with everything." In my three interactions with this woman, I've disagreed with everything she's said and been openly rude to her. I'm seeing some bloodshed in my future.
Seriously, who buy's a kid's medium?
I know! A second grader!
Oh, this was scaring. On Friday, my dad, sister and I wanted to go see a movie but we had to call the theater to get the movie times because that's what the paper said to do. So I called the theater to see when a few movies were playing, and we were in a restaurant at the time having breakfast. I called up, and it was busy, busy... then finally, I got through. I thought I heard something about "one screen... X rated adult films," but I was like, "God, this restaurant is loud, I think they just said something about pornos." Then, this creepy guy voice continues, "Today's showing is, "Drill her in the ass." I hung up and got all skeeved out.
"What's wrong?" my father asked from across the table.
"I... I.... "
"You called the wrong movie theater, didn't you?"
Once we got to the correct movie theater, my sister went out to get a drink. The girl is the skinniest thing ever, and all she does is eat. Anyway, she took $20 from my dad and returned with a small drink and some chocolate covered almonds. My dad held up the change. "$12.25 left. For what? A soda and some candy!"
"I thought you'd want these," my sister said, pointing to the candy. The thing was, we'd just had brunch. Only my sister can eat continuously like this.
"No," he said.
"Do you want me to return them?"
"No."
"I can return them."
"How much were they?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
She shrugged.
"You don't know? You have no idea how much you paid for this?"
"I got them for you!"
"You're not going to eat them?"
"I'll have a few."
"How much did you pay for them?"
"I'll go return them."
"Hold on, let me see how much they give you for... for what? We don't even know."
"I'm returning them."
"Well, if you'll eat them, fine."
"They're for you."
"I'm not going to eat them."
"I'm going to return them." She left to return them.
"Can you believe that?" he asked me. My sister returned with $3.50.
"That soda was $4.25?!?"
"It must have been," I said.
"That's impossible. You want to make a bet?"
"Sure. What are we betting?"
"The price of the soda."
"Okay." He got up to go check the prices.
"You owe me $4.25," he said when he got back. "She got charged the wrong price."
"What?" asked my sister.
"You got charged for the medium, when you got a small. You have to watch these things, Stephanie. You have to pay attention. Do you just not check to make sure you're getting the right change?"
At this point, the lights started to dim so my dad sat down. All of a sudden we hear these two clangs as the quarters fall out of my dad's pocket. This made all three of us laugh, and after the movie, my father spent a good two minutes scouring the floor for his 50 cents. I'm not sure my sister will ever get any concessions at a movie again.
My mom can be a pretty negative person, which kills me. We were watching "Spanglish" on TV later that night when she was like, "I hate this movie." On the movie "Shall We Dance," which I switched to because I figured she'd like that better, she again said, "I hate this movie." Then, on the news, her negativity roll hit an all-time high when she said, "I hate how they have to switch lines, every second." We put her on a negativity probation for five minutes. She couldn't say anything negative from 11:23 PM EST to 11:28 PM EST. She made it to approximately 11:24:03 PM EST before commenting on hating Jennifer Lopez. For the record, I'm not a fan either, but that's besides the point. Plus, she was already getting some serious lee-way for nasty faces.
And finally, some highlights from my brother, continued, to wrap it up:
"Some kid's gonna have to donate hair to you instead of locks for love because you're not gonna have any hair!" Nobody makes threats quite like him.
He announced that our neighbor was the "bravest woman ever." "Remember the time she killed all the bees in the tree?" Right. Forget Rosa Parks, Joan of Arc, Amelia Earhart.. think of any brave woman. None of them mean anything to my brother. Maybe someone who kills birds. She'd beat out my neighbor, but that's it.
"Cheese is a risky object for Jews."
Between him and my sister:
Michael: Turn around.
Stephanie: Why?
Michael: Turn around, I want to kick your ass.
Stephanie: No.
Michael: Come on, just once.
So there it is A week at home. What can I say, it really was a trip.
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