'Canada' in American spells 'P-O-R-K'.
Ohmygod, all we do up here is eat bacon and sausage and homemade salami. I don't feel so good.
We drove up to Canada on Sunday after I got off work at four. Two Big Things are happening: My brother-in-law and his wife are having a baby - she was due nine days ago and if it doesn't peek out anytime between now and Thursday they're going to yank him. His name is supposed to be Zachary Cosmo, after Tony's uberItalian father. Being the early-thirties-arty-hipsters that they are, though, his parents-in-waiting have decided to name him 'Cosmos'...'You know. Because it's a little bit of dad, and...it's like the universe...and everything.' Tony and I are maintaining that he has launched a silent, solitary protest of his middle name and is refusing to come out until they come to their senses and change it.
Big Thing Number Two is the Godfather-style wedding of my husband's sister. There will be 260 people in attendance and the hall they rented for the reception is costing the family four thousand dollars LESS than what I make in AN ENTIRE YEAR. They saved money on the wedding planner, though, in that they didn't hire one. My sister in law has planned the whole thing herself. She even made all the centerpieces and nameplates. I'm a little nervous. The last time I was a witness to the planning of a wedding of this magnitude, it was an ex-boyfriend's sister who was getting married. She stayed so busy, running around, arranging the flowers, arranging the pictures, the sanctuary, planning the menu. She was so hectic and stressed out and sleep-deprived that it hardly surprised me at all when, at the rehearsal dinner, she hiked up her dress and flashed the minister - revealing to many that she'd forgotten her underwear. A little more surprising was the total and complete emotional breakdown that followed. They never made it on their honeymoon. At the airport, she kept running away from her new husband and flinging herself at strangers' feet, telling them tearful stories from her childhood. It took months to get her corralled in and on enough meds to control her outburts - an arrest to keep her from spending all night swimming half a mile across the lake in her underwear to use the neighbor's phone at 3am.
So. Since Monday morning I have been perched on the couch - the Banana at my feet, a cheesy Minette Walters mystery in one hand and a piece of bacon in the other. I'm listening for the phone call that will inform us that Zach has decided to grace us with his presence, and also for the sounds of emotional strain/panic/angry paranoia in my sister-in-law's voice. So far there has been no breakdown. BUT. We still have four days to go. At least she's the type who would never go without underwear.
We drove up to Canada on Sunday after I got off work at four. Two Big Things are happening: My brother-in-law and his wife are having a baby - she was due nine days ago and if it doesn't peek out anytime between now and Thursday they're going to yank him. His name is supposed to be Zachary Cosmo, after Tony's uberItalian father. Being the early-thirties-arty-hipsters that they are, though, his parents-in-waiting have decided to name him 'Cosmos'...'You know. Because it's a little bit of dad, and...it's like the universe...and everything.' Tony and I are maintaining that he has launched a silent, solitary protest of his middle name and is refusing to come out until they come to their senses and change it.
Big Thing Number Two is the Godfather-style wedding of my husband's sister. There will be 260 people in attendance and the hall they rented for the reception is costing the family four thousand dollars LESS than what I make in AN ENTIRE YEAR. They saved money on the wedding planner, though, in that they didn't hire one. My sister in law has planned the whole thing herself. She even made all the centerpieces and nameplates. I'm a little nervous. The last time I was a witness to the planning of a wedding of this magnitude, it was an ex-boyfriend's sister who was getting married. She stayed so busy, running around, arranging the flowers, arranging the pictures, the sanctuary, planning the menu. She was so hectic and stressed out and sleep-deprived that it hardly surprised me at all when, at the rehearsal dinner, she hiked up her dress and flashed the minister - revealing to many that she'd forgotten her underwear. A little more surprising was the total and complete emotional breakdown that followed. They never made it on their honeymoon. At the airport, she kept running away from her new husband and flinging herself at strangers' feet, telling them tearful stories from her childhood. It took months to get her corralled in and on enough meds to control her outburts - an arrest to keep her from spending all night swimming half a mile across the lake in her underwear to use the neighbor's phone at 3am.
So. Since Monday morning I have been perched on the couch - the Banana at my feet, a cheesy Minette Walters mystery in one hand and a piece of bacon in the other. I'm listening for the phone call that will inform us that Zach has decided to grace us with his presence, and also for the sounds of emotional strain/panic/angry paranoia in my sister-in-law's voice. So far there has been no breakdown. BUT. We still have four days to go. At least she's the type who would never go without underwear.
posted by inveil | 3:31 PM
6 Comments:
Cool blog with some good writing herein -- keep it up.
-- Mark
Awesome, you get spam comments now.
As for the never wearing no underwear part...
Never say never.
Spam to go along with the bacon, sausage and salami.
Aah!
...how do I stop it?
Go check out some website someplace and buy some stuff. Yehaw..
-Tangyape
well, that's annoying... and discombobulating... the most insidious part is that they make it seem like they're real ppl reading and admiring your writing... damned heartless spam...
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