artykins

Afternoon, kids! I trust you're all well. Yes? Excellent. I, myself, am doing alright. I'm a bit surprised at the popularity of my last blog, but there you go. The following blog is going to be snippets of my life the last couple weeks. That's to say it'll mainly be instances of hilarity, moments of hysterical interludes and in the simplest form, just good old fashioned good times.

I give you the hilarity that can sometimes be my life.

--

Last night

I got in about half past nine and was promptly scolded by my brother, Jeff, for being 'out too late.' This, of course, comes from the boy who skived off school a couple days after I had left the country in May for what he dubbed his 'Ferris Bueller Day.' Oh yes. The boy who scolded me, skipped out on school with a couple friends, went to the city (San Francisco), bummed around, saw a movie, came home and then proceeded to lie to my parents when they already knew what was going on and then added to the conversation that if it made my parents feel any better (i.e. 'please don't punish me more than I need to be'), he received a $50.00 parking citation.

It didn't work in terms of diminishing the sentence he had to pay as punishment.

I must confess, though, that I knew well in advance about this Ferris Bueller Day, but I didn't say anything. I even went through some kind of ethical/moral dilemma because my mother (sneaky-operator that she is!) was chatting with me online one afternoon when I was in England. She asked me if I knew anything about Jeff planning something. The conversation went something like this:

Mom: want to run something by you
Mom: jeff had the car yesterday for school and to go to church to set up the tables for the ladies
Mom: he then went to montclair to get a jamba juice for ms james

Me: ...yeah

Mom: when i told him the car was not for all kinds of running around he kind of said ok
Mom: but
Mom when i mentioned it to uncle arnie
Mom: he said
Mom: jeff had been talking about cutting school yesterday and going to sf with will
Mom: we don't think he did
Mom: but
Mom: how should i approach jeff?

Me: with a stick?

Mom: don't want him knowing that arnie said anything to me
Mom: lol
Mom: a big one?
Mom: or should i just let it go this time?

Me: well, you need to nip it in the bud
Me: he seems to think that being 18 and having his license is the great end all be all

Mom: i agree
Mom: he doesn't know much does he?

Me: he seems to be pretty cocky

Mom: yeah

So, as you can clearly see, my mother knew something was up all along. I personally think this is due to the fact that my mother is part witch. It's kind of creepy how she knows things like that. I think she knew before I did that I was going to marry Matt.

Yeah...spooky, I know.

--

Last night...again

A week or so ago Matt and I were going through our garage looking for some spare pots and pans to use until we get our own at the apartment. It was me, Matt, my mom and Jeremy. Three of us were doing actual work and one of us was...well...he was working in a different sense. You see, while we were opening the various tubs and boxes in our garage, we came across three or four bins of stuffed animals that had been put away several years ago for safe-keeping (my mother wants to have things for her grandchildren, eventually).

Jeremy was beside himself with happiness. I imagine it was a lot like every Christmas when I unwrap all my ornaments for him. He spent the better part of half an hour just digging through the open containers and pulling out some of his childhood favorites. To be completely fair, I was distracted for a while as well. There were quite a few things in there that I had forgotten about. Like my Raggedy-Ann doll that my mom made for me when I was a girl. I found Snowberry too, which is a white teddy bear that my grandmother gave me one Christmas when I was about seven years old. Snowberry still had the little green scarf with white snowflakes on the ends and red mittens on. He was still kind of flat from all those mornings when I would wake up to find I had used him like a pillow.

*sighs* I'm terribly sentimental.

Anyway, the point of this story is that Paco was uncovered. Paco is a pig. And not only is he a pig, he's a puppet as well. Paco belongs to Jeff and Paco was one of the toys Jeremy smuggled back into the house and was allowed to keep inside (we had already stacked everything back up and couldn't be bothered to undo our work). As such, Paco has been inside for a week or so now. He kind of lies around like third base a lot, but last night Jeff decided to give him some life. Being Jeff, however, Paco's life was definitely not boring.

You see, our grandmother was at her computer in the dining room doing whatever it is she does and Paco was in the living room. From his spot on the floor, Paco began whistling and using words like 'chica' and 'mamacita' to get my grandmother's attention. Yeah. I know. Wrong on so many levels, but funny on every single one of them.

My mother, wanting to stop the noise, approached Paco. Paco, being sufficiently clever, fled from her much like the English would have fled from the Spanish armada had the armada not been decimated by the English. My mom eventually got her hand on Paco's ear, at which point Paco decided to play possum. He rolled over onto his back, threw open his mouth and began to snore.

--

This coming Saturday

Uncle Ron and Aunt Becky are coming this Saturday for a visit. They're also coming to bring a sofa to the apartment. You see, Uncle Ron and Aunt Becky were looking for a new sofa, so they offered their old one to us, which Matt and I accepted. It'll be nice to actually have a sofa to sit on now. We've only had dining room chairs for a while now and it's a lost cause to try and curl up with a good book on one of those. No, a sofa is much better.

Because Uncle Ron and Aunt Becky are coming, chances are Pepper is coming with them. Now, I know most of you know who Pepper is. Those of you who don't, Pepper is their dog. We occasionally will babysit Pepper when Uncle Ron and Aunt Becky go away on holiday. Some of my favorite memories of Pepper have occured while she was here.

For example, she's a relatively well-behaved dog. We spoil her when she's here, but to be fair she loves coming and we love having her. When she's here, we don't need to sweep up the kitchen floor. No indeed. Pepper is our live-in Hoover. She keeps the kitchen floor spotless between her begging sessions. Of course, being clever, I've discovered a way to get her out of the way.

You see, whenever someone goes into the kitchen, Pepper follows in hopes that she'll be fed some scraps. I wouldn't mind this so much if she weren't under foot all the time. She doesn't stay in one place, but rather follows you around when you're trying to cook. So, to get her out of the way, all I have to do is look down at her and say 'let's go get a bath, Pepper' and she's gone. She flees to the sofa (we put down a couple blankets and she sleeps on a corner of the sofa) and looks at you as though to say 'I'll be good, really I will...look...I'm tired...I'm going to bed now.'

--

This past Saturday

Matt and I spent the day with Jeremy, my mom and Uncle Benny out and about. Of course, like most good days, that particular day ended spectacularly. Our last port of call that day was Mi Pueblo. I'm not sure I've spoken much about Mi Pueblo here. It's a Mexican market that rocks my world. They've got a panaderia (bakery), a carniceria (butcher), a pescador (fish monger) and a taqueria (read-made-very-good eats). This is, of course, on top of a killer produce section, a cheese and tortilla shop and several aisles of groceries. It's a great place. So great that Alfredo wants to live on aisle fourteen.

Anyway, we went to Mi Pueblo and got fixin's for tostadas. I got some black tiger shrimp for Matt and a six-pack of beer (it goes really well with Mexican food, okay?). There were other things that were bought, including some salsa rojo and guacamole ranchero. The salsa kicked ass, if you'll excuse my turn of phrase. It was SO yummy.

Home again we went once we were finished and cooking began. My dad mixed up a pitcher of margaritas and to make a long story short, we feasted. And then, of course, we had some homemade chocolate chip cookies that my grandmother had made. Mmmmmm.

--

Today

Jeff refers to his 'sex-elence' and I am nearly ill.

--

Well, I do hope you enjoyed your little romp through a few things. I'm off to go watch a DVD or something. 'Or something' is probably a safer bet. Anyway, on behalf of Paco, Pepper and pueblos, until next time!

Later Days,
Arty