Grandparents

Update: MY GRANDMOTHER HAS LOST HER SHIT ALL OVER FACEBOOK. 

Posted on my wall: Happy Birthday to the boy. Happy Birthday to the boy. Happy Birthday dear the boy! Happy Birthday to you!

Erratic: You are supposed to post this on his wall, silly.

Yeah I know I didn't have his then figured out if I clicked on his on yours viola. Honestly I surprise myself with my brilliance! luvm.

All comes to he who waits patiently in the sidelines!

Try a vitamin (health food store) for the honey. luvum.

The very last comment was in reference to a completely different post. Also, terrible advice based on that post.

On another grand-parent related note, Papa and the boy have the same birthday. So, tonight I picked him up from the retirement home and took him to dinner. He had one margarita and was pretty tipsy. He was cracking me up. I laughed through our entire dinner. It was the first time in a long time that I have been able to keep him away from sad stories and just laughing and having fun. 

But, I still tipped the waiter 30%. How do you teach and 87 year old man that whistling at servers is rude? No, seriously? How? I would like suggestions.

Indian Feast

My dad doesn't like "things." He likes events, quality time. Last summer for his birthday we took him on a Taco Truck Tour. This year for Christmas I made him a 6 course Indian tasting menu. Indian is his favorite. It went so smoothly I thought it was a trap. Tini, who helped me do the prep Friday night, made the comment that I was going to wake up to a missing stove because he couldn't believe it. 

So, without further ado, here are the pictures.

Since we don't have a kitchen table, the boy brought a card table from work. I think the table turned out quite pretty. Except for the candle that is clearly falling over. Thankfully we got that in the picture.

Deep Fried Chickpeas with homemade garam masala. That is my dad waiting ever so patiently to refill his bowl.

Cauliflower Pakora with Cilantro-Mint Chutney. This is not he prettiest plate of the day. I was pretty unhappy with it.

Carrot Ginger Soup. And a close up of the menu.

Spinach Salad with toasted cumin seeds.

Chicken Tikka Masala over Pea and Cilantro Basmati Rice.

I don't know how to describe this. It is called a ricotta cheese cake, but it was more like a cookie. It was spiced with cardamom pods, pistachios, and almonds. Delicious.

I hope all of you have a holiday filled with delicious food and even more delicious memories.

So, so many things

This is going to be a long one. I suggest grabbing yourself a drink and putting on your comfy pants. Or no pants. But, if your laptop gets hot like mine, at least a blanket. Singed thighs are never a good thing.

Last weekend I went back to StL for Christmas with my mom's side of the family. The weekend started with a 6 am flight. SIX O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. I am not a morning person. Getting up at 4 am was not pleasant. 

Then the boy and I met Bradshaw for lunch, which was all kinds of awesome. For whatever reason, these encounters always make me ridiculously nervous. It is easy to hide behind a computer and a smart ass blog. It is much harder to be in person and enjoy someone's company. Both times I have hung out with Bradshaw, 30 seconds into it, I have remembered why we are friends in the first place because it is always like we have been friends for a decade and see each other every day. I love this.

The usual craziness of my family ensued. My grandmother is on some sort of anti-China campaign and refuses to use, buy, eat, or be near anything made in China. This led to us frantically unwrapping all her presents and removing various made from china stickers and blacking out the same labels on boxes. All made in Argentina. Yep. Sure thing. Some favorite quotes from the weekend;

"Sometimes I am just walking and I forget I have feet." (After falling over for absolutely no reason.)

"You know, I never noticed, but you have no ass." (To my mother's husband)

There were more, but neither the boy nor I can remember them. The crazy ass apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I am afraid. I think I am slowly turning into her.

Saturday night, we went out for my sister's birthday/her friend's birthday. It was this little microbrewery and it was AMAZING. They had a girl scout cookie beer that tasted just like a thin mint. The rest of their beers were pretty delicious too. It was literally a guy who bought a bar and put the brewing equipment in what would normally be the office. It was really cool to see someone so small time doing so well. The place was packed.

Sunday we went to brunch at her house and she pulled out all of my art from when I was a kid. Like, two years old. I have been taking art classes since I was old enough to hold a paint brush. There is one called "Might be a Bird" and one called "Mosquito." It was quite funny to see paint strewn all over a page and my grandmother's interpretations. 

Work has been kind of odd this week, a weird mix of slow during the busy times and busy during the slow times. Super frustrating.

I am also making a 6 course Indian meal for my dad as his Christmas present. I am pretty nervous because I feel extremely unprepared. Mostly because I haven't prepared. So, work needs to stop being an ass hole and give me some time to work on some of this shit. It is always nice to do your testing on someone else's dime.

So, there is the update of Christmas #1 and why I will be very absent through the rest of this week. However...I will definitely be posting all of the pictures of the dinner on the 24th!

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, whatever it is you celebrate. 

It's good to be home.

The wedding was beautiful.

I am exhausted.

My sister managed to make me feel like complete shit for being the last cousin to get married, which is not that crazy because there are only four of us. I come from a small family. Clearly.

I watched my cousins twins all weekend because she was in the wedding. It seemed like there were easily 14 babies. I am not even kidding. Trying to keep them fed, sleeping, changed, and entertained a midst everything else was like trying to wrangle four hundred cats. Really, really cute cats. I don't know how they do it. Every inch of my body is sore, partially because they are at the age where they flail and generally just beat the shit out of me all weekend. But, I also kind of want to drive to see them every weekend because, dear lord, these babies have my heart. 

There were a lot of hours in the car, a lot of shitty nights of sleep due to terrible beds, a ton of alcohol, more food than I care to admit, and a lot of love and family.

All in all a good weekend. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to go sleep for a week. Or, you know, work. 

Christmas, Part II

On our drive out to St. Louis, we dropped my grandfather off in Indianapolis to celebrate Christmas with my uncle and cousins. We met at an Arby's in the ghetto and sort of foisted him off on my Uncle, still talking to us as we drove off. It was quite humorous, the man never stops talking. Also? He does things like this with no alcohol and very little help from us:

Yes, he is 84.

On the way home, we stayed a night with my cousin and her husband before driving home. My dad's side of the family is somewhat notorious for their alcohol tolerance. My cousin once drank a gallon of apple martini mix and then cracked a bottle of wine when we got home. I am not exaggerating. I can drink most people in my life under the table. So, when we get together, this is what happens:

There were mainly 6 of us drinking; male cousin and his girlfriend, female cousin and her husband, the boy (who only drank beer) and me. I know, I know, you are all writing your intervention letters...and it did get a little crazy that night, which is unusual for us. I ended the night by vomiting, which I was convinced was due to not eating enough. The boy told me the next morning I was also falling over. Awesome.

However, male cousin and his girlfriend apparently got in a huge fight. I woke up the next morning and female cousin said she got a text from his girlfriend that just said she left at about 4 am. My uncle also got a call asking him to pick her up at 4 am, as she tried to walk to his house and couldn't make it? That part was fairly unclear, because she was wasted. If there is any doubt, please see the picture again. Nobody has any idea what happened and male cousin and his girlfriend are refusing to talk about it. It was all very strange. My uncle has called my dad several times trying to find out if I told him what happened, which, yeah, no idea.

My grandfather said the next morning there were lots of tears, but you never really know how much truth there is to what he says. So, I guess it will remain a mystery.

So, that was my two part holiday adventure. How did all of you spend Christmas?

Christmas, Part I

Christmas was oddly calm this year. My holidays are usually spent flying or driving all over the country to see various members of my family. Everyone will meet in one city and Christmas is mass chaos. There is always drama, as my family tends to cause trouble wherever we go. Lies are told, people are manipulated, and someone always ends up in tears. Merry Christmas, right? This year was totally different. The boy and I drove to St. Louis and spent the weekend before Christmas with my mother, stepfather, grandmother, sister, and my sister's fiance. All the boy did was sleep and eat and I feel like I didn't do a whole hell of a lot more than that. It was boring. In a really really good way.

The only excitement came from my grandmother...who we all know is a tad off her rocker. We were supposed to all gather (my other three aunts - the drama makers - and everyone listed above) in St. Louis. My aunts scheduled a craft show for that weekend, so we cancelled the family gift exchange and decided to just buy small for everyone. My grandmother claimed that my mom (the bearer of bad news) cancelled Christmas and my grandmother wanted nothing to do with it. So, when we arrived, we were not sure what to expect. I called her when we got there because otherwise we get a frantic phone call claiming I am dead somewhere in Illinois.

Erratic: "I just wanted to call and let you know I made it safe and sound."

Grandma: groans

Erratic: "Are you OK?"

Grandma: "I have had a migraine for a week. I can't leave the house. I think I am dying."

Erratic: "You are not dying. Have you called the doctor?"

Grandma: "Yes, he put me on steroids."

Erratic: "So, you left the house to go to the doctor?"

Grandma: groans

Erratic: "OK, well, get some sleep, I will call you tomorrow."

The next morning she told my mom that she hasn't eaten in 5 days, so we made chicken noodle soup and went grocery shopping for a bunch of migraine-friendly food. When we got to her house, she was fine. I mean, completely and totally fine. She was ranting and raving about how China is trying to kill us and she refuses to buy anything made in China, even though I pointed out like 14 things IN THE ROOM that were made in China. Sigh.

So, we had to postpone Christmas until she "felt better" which caused everyone to say over and over, "Where's grandma, I want to open presents," something I said a few years earlier and have not lived down. I hate surprises and tend to get a tad impatient when there are 15 wrapped surprises in my presence. Let's just say my biggest childhood accomplishment was steaming open presents and then wrapping them and never getting caught. Oh, and taking the hinges off of closet doors that were locked. That served well both for presents and liquor.

When we left, my step dad, who even hates his own children, told the boy what a pleasure it was to have him this weekend and stated it was the best Christmas he has ever had with my family. It took me most of the drive home to recover from this.

Christmas part II will follow shortly.