Spazzmanda

I snuck away if only for a moment… but even in my sneaky place (a.k.a my grandpa’s computer with the RIDICULOUSLY large screen and typeface) I can not avert attention. I am here. With my dad, my stepmom, my grandma, my grandpa, my auntie, and my uncle and my other auntie. I am maxed out with some Krollsteins. And Liquor. For reals. The only peace I get is the 2 mile walk I take every morning that is an absolute necessity because of all of the eating. The FOOD, you guys, I can’t even begin to describe it. I would try but the last time I did something greasy in this keyboard knocked out half a paragraph, so I won’t even attempt to remember what I said. It is bliss. Liquid, spicy, squooshy bliss and the backspace key is locked up with only what can be described as some exquisite residue from one of Dida’s former meals.

Okay, ew.

I forgot my camera, which sucks. I’m supposed to obtain some great pictures from my stepmom, so that is a relief. In this mix is a picture of an impossibly small dog (Puchacho) some impossibly drunk relatives (yes, I come by it honest) and photographic evidence of the moment where I somehow started a story about something tragic and scientific and tried to stop but was coerced into finishing and somehow said the word “erection” in front of my grandmother– as well as the look on both of our faces.

Update:

I suppose I have to elaborate on that later. If I even can do it justice, I must. I have enough material to last this blog a long, long, long time.

Tomorrow we’re going to the BEACH! Flagler? Daytona? I care not, I’m squooshing some sand in my toes and I can’t wait! Have a bitchin’ week and a Happy Thanksgiving y’all!

I’m going to see the Florida Krolls tomorrow! The excitement of actually going on a trip with my father is starting to be replaced with a feeling of unease. Imagine a dark house (the security shutters are down 24-7) an overabundance of delicious food (my grandmother isn’t happy unless you have to unbutton something after eating) and the bickering. Fun loving, married  million years, two people talking to you at the same time chatter. I’m so glad their relationship is still spicy. The parentals are going to stay in a hotel room due to an alleged “cat allergy” and I alone will be marooned. Marooned with Ernie and Marion.

Actually, I can’t think of any place I’d rather be. Sounds like… family. This is what the holidays are all about. Suck it up baby, time for togetherness, food and love.

Good news:

1.  I get to be all smooth and secret-agenty as I t take Florence on the airplane, or at least I’m going to try. I’m adhering to all TSA guidelines (as well as a few SNB ladies suggestions) but you never know when someone at security is going to have a crap day and view your knitting needles as deadly weapons. Oh, did you know that yesterday was national “Have a bad Day” Day? Who’s idea was that to tell people that in the morning? Idgits.

2.  I might actually, once and for all learn how to make my grandmother’s (and great grandmother’s) tamales. A family tradition and secret. Now that I have the capacity to understand the nuances in  their preparation, this may be my golden familial culinary education opportunity.

3. I get to see lots of family, dad, stepmother, grandparents and my aunt and uncle might be coming in the last day we are there.

4. The ocean. Flagler Beach is very near to where they live, I’ll take my running shoes and hijack someone’s car for an hour or so and go for a run on the beach, absorb some of the ocean air through my skin and lungs. Aaaaaaaaaaah.

Have a happy holiday! Oh and pray that Florence arrives in Daytona tomorrow around 11AM unscathed and unmolested!