Jesus Gets Two Birthdays, So He's Really, Like, 4012
I successfully completed the "Go Home Hat Trick" this weekend, making it three times in the past three weeks that I made the trek to the great white north to participate in some family sanctioned activity. Hanging with the family is not too bad. I mean, my parents have never struck me with anything too heavy, and they're always good for a laugh. Last weekend my mom asked me if the female date that I was bringing to a wedding knew if I were gay. I told my mom that my date wasn't headless and probably had a good idea.
This weekend I was home for the magical "One Christmas Is Never Enough" extravaganza that those crazy Orthodox Christians fool inflict on the world just to be different. We get it; you don't follow the Pope. My Dad, when it is convenient for him, is one of those crazy Orthodoxes. So, he summons the family home to enjoy a dinner of bland pierogis, fish sticks and healthy sides of passive-aggression, conservative politics and paternal disappointment. All of which are hard to digest, especially the pierogis. Afterwards we go to church to catch a large chunk of the three hour mass which is full of also hard-to-digest incense and Russian language.
Seriously, the whole mass could be a the priest making fun of my family, and we wouldn't even know it. That's basically the perk of going.
This year was different, though. None of the kids could make it home Friday night or Saturday morning for church. Personally, I had a date friday night with a couple of pitchers of Red Sangria at El Vez. I can't speak for my siblings.
Besides missing church, my father decided to take us all out for a nice Italian dinner at his favorite restaurant. My immediate thought was that he was probably dying. It was uncharacteristic. When I arrived at his house and he made me change my shoes because he hated them, I knew he was just fine.
We got to the restuarant (a Jessup eatery whose owner is known for his delicious chicken dishes and his love of living la vida coca, if you catch my drift. Sniff, sniff.) and had to wait for seats. This did NOT make the family happy. My step mother was fit to be tied. We were finally seated and then we waited 2 hours for our food! Two hours! We tried to get answers from our waitress with the intricate floral tattoo on her wrist and hand, but she, predictably had the conversation skills of Nell.
The whole time, my family kept getting me drinks, cosmopolitans to be exact. It's almost as if, after 28 years, they've figured out how to appease me and insure the omnipresent, palpable attention could be assuaged with a little vodka. Well done!
We ate our food, and everyone got along. It was an Orthodox Christmas miracle. My family did wonder, however, if I were trying to gain weight since ever since last year's mono episode it "seems like [I] eat everything in sight." Or is "that because you can't afford to eat correctly?" Hey, they tried. I can deal with whatever insensitive comments they lob at me if there's a vodka chaser.
Later that night, I flew solo to a gay bar outside of Scranton. Yes, it was exactly as creepy as you are thinking. I was popular with the older male set. They would come up to me and almost talk to me, but instead they would just stand there. And wait for me to say something. Each of them underestimated my patience and was met with a confused glare. Someone straight up asked me for sex. Which was totally flattering. Sure, he was 60. But still, flattery is flattery.
Oh, my computer died. We had a great run together, he and I. We got through law school, the bar exam, several dates from Friendster and it helped me play with my new iPod Nano that I love so much I want to have its iPod Nano-babies. Anyway, I am looking for a new one. Any suggestions? My desired qualities in a computer are much like those that I have for people: compliant, helpful and loves to be on my lap for hours at a time.
Also, I am collecting donations for said computer. And I can only repay by getting on your lap for hours at a time.
Today is the day the "New 2006 Me" starts. More gym time, healthier food, better attitude, etc. In fact, my price just went up.
1 Comments:
At 5:52 PM, Anonymous said…
Among your several Friendster dates, are you counting any you aborted before the fact?
P.S. Jesus was actually born in like 3 B.C.
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