OK, so I pride myself on blogging with a short and sweet humorous tone, something light about massage. Not today. Today’s post is about me. I can feel a never ending diatribe of craziness just waiting to burst out of my finger tips as I stroke the keys.
Most of us have thought about going home for the holidays with some romantic notion that this will be the best holiday ever. Your blogger (yours truly) is no different. The initial plan was for all of us, my sister (Sissy) my daughter Lizzie and me to gather at my mom’s for the week preceding the holiday. After a few days of drama prior to everyone’s departure….…. who is sleeping where, will we be tying up the dining room wrapping gifts? What time will be taking showers? We have to talk about parking, are you all bringing cars? And the list goes on and on, my sister and I decided to rent a hotel room. I have to say once you wrap your head around it you’re all set. Currently we are staying at a hotel up the street from my Mom’s house. So instead of; why are you eating a bagel with cream cheese or how much did you pay for that hair cut (yes, my Mom actually asked me that, I think what she meant was I hate your hair cut) my sissy and I have been awaking in the comfort of our own room with a full continental breakfast just a few floors away.
We visit in the day and retreat to the hotel room at night. I advise anyone if you can afford it, do it. Last night they had warm cookies at the front desk. I could eat as many as I wanted without explanation. The crazy part is, it’s not the actual eating of the cookie it’s all about getting up in my grill. I learned that (getting up in my grill) from my cousin’s 15 year old son. I love it. I even used it on my parents. They both looked at me like a deer in the head lights. It was awesome.
Yesterday we stopped by prior to hitting the mall. I asked if they had a sharpie. I had cracked open a bottle of water and wanted to put my initials on the cap before I threw it back in the frig. What I really wanted to avoid was one of my parents standing by the open frig door with the bottle of water in their hand asking “who’s water is this”? You think I requested the recipe to the atom bomb. What do you need it for? What are you going to write on? This is a sharpie (it was a wet/dry marker) and last but not least why aren’t you just drinking the whole bottle. At one point my sister joined in. I told her now we really need to get out your turning!
Plus were Italian, lots of yelling over each other and no one is listening. The good news….. Lots of great food.
The good stuff; I’m two Italian subs with everything deep from Richard’s and I bumped into an old pal from high school at the bank yesterday. Let’s go back to Richard’s. I live in Maine. You cannot get an Italian with everything. It does not exist. The first time I ordered an Italian with everything in a Maine sub shop they asked me if I wanted mayo or mustard. I knew immediately I was in trouble. So when I go home I have to have the Richard’s Italian with everything.
Sissy and I shopped at the Braintree Plaza yesterday. I watched them break ground on the plaza from my 6th grade math class many moons ago. The place was mobbed but we didn’t care because we had our very own hotel room to retreat to after the chaos of a full shopping day.
Christmas Eve is two days away. I can’t wait. Family will gather at my Mom’s and everyone will yell over each over to be heard. I shouldn’t say everyone, just the Italians, my family. Most of the outlaws (inlaws) will all just watch. For what ever reason most of us married non Italians. Anyway, at the end of the day its all good, there is no place like home!
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