(no subject)
The benevolent and sagacious Momma D has promised me a ride home if I tell Poppa G the truth about why I will not be going to his house to slam back Screw Drivers and cheese and crackers* on Christmas Eve. I might as well, the truth will set me free...and might have an impact of some sort, but that's not likely. Them peoples is thick I tell you.
*Seriously, that's all my step-mother provides at this affair. My cousins used to have a potluck dinner on Christmas Eve. We're used to being fed. I mean, Jesus, throw some meatballs and sauce into a Crockpot or something. There are a lot of nice frozen nibbles that you can toss in the oven 20 minutes before company arrives. Sheesh. You'll have to forgive me, I'm used to the way mother operates. If Momma D was hosting a Christmas Eve gathering, you'd at the very least get a mini eggroll or a quesadilla for the love of toasters! So everybody just sits around my dad's house eating cheese and crackers with little pepperoni slices, trying not to let my grandmother become aware of the fact that they're drinking, and watching my half-sister act like a spaz (according to Brother Adam, Esq.). The first and only time I went over there I ended up sucking down two orange juice and Absoluts because, as I mentioned, the situation was rather untenable. My step-mother is not particularly warm and welcoming. I've always had the impression that she pretty much wishes that she didn't have to deal with us at all and she doesn't really. Fuckin' Christmas dredging up all this family stuff!
*Seriously, that's all my step-mother provides at this affair. My cousins used to have a potluck dinner on Christmas Eve. We're used to being fed. I mean, Jesus, throw some meatballs and sauce into a Crockpot or something. There are a lot of nice frozen nibbles that you can toss in the oven 20 minutes before company arrives. Sheesh. You'll have to forgive me, I'm used to the way mother operates. If Momma D was hosting a Christmas Eve gathering, you'd at the very least get a mini eggroll or a quesadilla for the love of toasters! So everybody just sits around my dad's house eating cheese and crackers with little pepperoni slices, trying not to let my grandmother become aware of the fact that they're drinking, and watching my half-sister act like a spaz (according to Brother Adam, Esq.). The first and only time I went over there I ended up sucking down two orange juice and Absoluts because, as I mentioned, the situation was rather untenable. My step-mother is not particularly warm and welcoming. I've always had the impression that she pretty much wishes that she didn't have to deal with us at all and she doesn't really. Fuckin' Christmas dredging up all this family stuff!