I know y’all have been waiting for a recap of the anticipated Holiday o’ Horror, and believe me, it’s not that I’ve decided not share. Frankly, there just isn’t anything to tell—it went really well. Mother didn’t stop talking from the time I picked her up until probably the next day, which is either endearing or annoying, depending on who you are; and Baby Brudder did exactly what I figured he’d do and blew out early (HE said it was because work had a server crash, but *I* know it was because he didn’t want to deal, although waiting until AFTER chow would’ve been slightly more polite. On the other hand, though, if you’re going to be twitchy, it’s better to get the hell out of dodge before you turn into a spectacle), but it was eerily normal. I even peeled potatoes, ferchrissake.
It’s the AFTER that’s been a drag.
Friday, after I woke up at ass o’clock to cover the yahoos shopping Black Friday—and I don’t care who you are or how much money you think you’re saying: If you’re up at ass o’clock to shop, you’re a yahoo—helped Girlie texturize the walls of the restaurant and tried like hell to ignore the headache and clogged sinuses that were threatening my well-being, Mother and I went to dinner. That’s when it started:
Before y’all ask, no, there really is no way discuss this with or placate her. I’ve tried, but she doesn’t get that the two of them are very different people to me, and it’s not a matter of who’s more important. They’re just different. So here I try and do a good thing, and once again it bites me in the ass. Fabulous. I did, however, get a great picture of the three of us ... that I’m expressly forbidden to post. But trust me, it’s something I’ll keep close always.
On to happier business, this weekend is shaping up to be filled with all kinds of tomfoolery, starting with my sister’s arrival Friday; she and I are either going to hole ourselves up away from the rest of the world and drink ourselves stupid or go out and wreak havoc on the unsuspecting, then Saturday is the next Bang-Bang “Drink for ...” extravaganza, for which I plan on getting all hot and gorgeous (AND find a skirt that doesn’t make me look like I’m 3 feet tall). You’re invited if you’re in the area. Ann and Ben said so.
