My cousin graduated from college this weekend. The majority of my extended family (grad night dinner was 16 people) came down for the celebration. Which should explain why I wasn’t around the past couple days. Damn people, can’t I take a little vacation without you assholes getting on my back? Sheesh.
No sort of coherent story for the weekend is running through my head, here are some bits and pieces:
I hadn’t had more than a single glass of wine with dinner in well over a month. Now, I’ve never been much of a lush, but I can throw ‘em back, I’ll tell you what. I went out with my cousin the first night we got into town. My cousin the frat brother. My cousin the 22-year old. My cousin, spending his last night in college. That boy can drink. And I pretty much kept pace with him. Somehow, over the course of the evening, I acquired an Xtra-large Penn State jersey.
I made it back to the hotel, and was feeling pretty well. The drink combined with the unusually high cigarettes count (I’ve quit), and I was still feeling well. But, apparently I was feeling that well, because when I woke up in the morning, I’d thrown up all over myself.
I’ve always wanted to live the rock and roll lifestyle, but I didn’t want that rock star to be Jimi Hendrix.
When we went out to dinner, there wasn’t a table big enough for us all. We split up into a “kid’s” table and an “adult’s” table. Very much reminded me of grown up and getting to sit at the kiddie table for every function. Only now, the youngest of the kids there is nearly 18, and the rest of us are all of legal drinking age. Still, when all was said and done, the “adults” were the more loud and obnoxious table.
I wonder if that is just because they are loud and obnoxious, or whether us kids have learned over the years how to get in trouble without drawing attention to ourselves?
We were driving around town and my mom noted how everyone these days uses the plain white lights to decorate their homes for Christmas. She says how much she misses the old colored lights. All the talk about race like week, and the first thing that popped into my head to say was “You aren’t supposed to call them ‘colored’ lights anymore mom; they like to be called ‘African-American’ lights.”
The Negro lights!
by Eviltom at December 23, 2002 2:24 PM
Sis says she thinks you didn't recognize her mg. And mom said something about you when she picked me up from the airport, but my ears were still ringing from the flight.
by quicksilver at December 23, 2002 5:21 PM
Ah, lushes. What a source of endless amusement. My ex-brother-in-law used to begin each morning w/an elaborate ritual involving three shot glasses, vodka and beer. I'm sure it went over great @ my sister's house, but maybe not so well @ family gatherings as we all stood around w/ our coffee and watched.
by Anna at December 23, 2002 6:14 PM
That's cool, your inebriated brain pre-empted the throw up and acquired a shirt especially for it. Political Correctness extending to Christmas lights... heh... Why does it sound eerily like a current affairs topic for primetime television?
by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at December 23, 2004 7:53 PM