Today was the type of day only a movie could portray accurately. I don’t know how else to explain other than to say that Martha Stewart would have frowned and shook her head when my sister literally shouted “BINGO!” during grace. Yes, this was Dunbar Family Thanksgiving 2010.
I have often told my parents that I wanted to list our family holidays on Ticket Master as an event. My mom, bless her sweet soul, has always tried her best to plan our festivities to be more beautiful than a Thomas Kinkade painting. However, the rest of the disorderly family members often ruin all that effort in a matter of moments.
This evening, after the prayer fiasco* we were told to ‘dig in’. In my family, it seems as though everyone is afraid that there won’t be enough to go around. There was more grabbing of meat than if we were at a hot dance club. Stuffing and potatoes were plopped onto plates, my dad ran hot laps around the table to be the first one for Yams**, and my uncle’s head was literally missed by mere inches as a homemade roll sailed through the sky. Yes, this is really what it is like.
After the initial commotion of jockeying for food, the table goes silent except for the munching of hungry mouths. Somewhere amid this solace of silence, murmurs of chatter begin to take place. It is then that I proudly announce that they really don’t serve beer in hell+ that a firestorm of conversation erupts. Cursing sprinkles the dialogue until my sister cuts in and states that our talk is probably making baby Jesus cry. Yes folks, this is the same sister who couldn’t help but shout “BINGO!” during grace.
I pour the last glass of wine for myself.
Soon after dinner, everyone finds themselves too full to help clean the kitchen – this is pretty typical. Being the resourceful gal I am (and not wanting to get stuck cleaning the kitchen), I find our only non-family member (A.K.A. real guest) smoking outside and instruct her that it is her duty to wash the dishes in the kitchen. I find this extremely satisfactory. I get the feeling however, that my mom, doesn’t think so. My dad, often on the end of the spectrum with me, agrees and instructs something else to our lone-non-family guest.
I find a bottle of champagne and pour myself a glass.
I then meander under the family radar to my parent’s quiet bedroom. I stretch out on their designer comforter set and allow the fullness of my belly to absorb every bit of me. With my half-marathon quickly approaching, I suddenly appreciate carb loading – and with gusto. I am completely stuffed, tired from the turkey, and perhaps a little tipsy++.
Just when I am getting cozy, my mom comes in to berate me for falling asleep. She tells me that I need to come out and visit with family. Mind you, this is the DUNBAR house. I can HEAR them even if I had stayed home. Our family is loud and rambunctious. I slowly make my way back to the living room where my husband is glued to the football game alongside my brother in law. I wonder how on earth he can even hear it over the top of my aunt yelling at my uncle, my uncle pretending that he’s old and senile, my mom asking everyone if they want pie (bless her for trying to keep the spirit alive) and my dad telling me that I need to finish off the bottle of champagne.
I grab the bottle of champagne and after evaluating the contents, I decide it’s best to shotgun the bottle and not waste any time. I am ready to go home. My sister tells me that I shouldn’t drink all the champagne, my husband snaps out of his trance and grabs the camera and my mom scolds me in advance for vomiting on her carpet. All I can think is: Game On! Down the hatch the champagne goes and my name is being shouted in a chant by my family.
I win the champagne challenge and as first place, I get to recycle the bottle.
Whoever could have planned a better Thanksgiving?
*Dear Jesus, please take mercy on my sister’s soul.
**Which no one likes anyway.
+No idea where this came from, at the time, this part of the conversation was relevant. Now? Not so much.
++ Okay, maybe a LOT tipsy. But who cares? It’s a holiday.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Snow
Snowflakes flittering down from the heavens can mean only one thing—the brain cells of Western Washingtonians are quickly dissipating. I often find snow fascinating. Not in the sense that it is precipitation that falls from the sky, but rather the way it changes people immediately. Suddenly we find that we have professional meteorologists among us and Double Doppler radars are abounding!
One of the more frequent comments I hear is that of drivers when they say, “It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s all those other idiots out there!” If we really take a moment to ponder this statement, someone has to qualify as the ‘idiot’. I have learned that I am one of the token idiots and any person that I happen to ride with is as well. I have never actually met anyone who is a perfect snow driver. The women get too distracted by the snow’s beauty and the men are typically trying to showboat. Idiots. We are all the idiots everyone else is talking about.
The other comment I find endearing is, “I will just go as slow as I want and people can pass me if they want to!” Well, I am the first to tell you, you can move faster than a snail and not wreck. This type of driving environment should be the hay day of marijuana smokers— you can literally drive 5 MPH, and law enforcement is none the wiser! In fact, pot smoking might actually help those other over-paranoid peeps relax—pass your pipe to the driver next to you who’s sporting some white knuckles!
I also find it humorous that the snow brings out the wanna-be trucks. You all know what I am talking about. If it isn’t a Ford, Chevy or Dodge—it isn’t really a truck. It may pretend to be a truck, but it’s not. It’s like dressing your girlfriend up to be a man—she still has boobs and therefore will never be a man. Your Hyundai, Honda, BMW, etc. will never qualify as a truck in my eyes. Ever. Love me or hate me, I drive a Focus and I know it isn't a luxuary sedan or truck. At least I am real.
Finally, isn’t it strange that when you try to shove your kids out the front door to play in the snow, they complain that it’s cold? It’s like, DUH! Are you new? Snow has never been warm… Hmmmm… I digress. I’ve trashed on enough areas about snow, I suppose I can leave the kids out of it.
I guess my final thought is this, where can you purchase snow shoes online? I am out of wine and my husband took the truck. Dang.
One of the more frequent comments I hear is that of drivers when they say, “It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s all those other idiots out there!” If we really take a moment to ponder this statement, someone has to qualify as the ‘idiot’. I have learned that I am one of the token idiots and any person that I happen to ride with is as well. I have never actually met anyone who is a perfect snow driver. The women get too distracted by the snow’s beauty and the men are typically trying to showboat. Idiots. We are all the idiots everyone else is talking about.
The other comment I find endearing is, “I will just go as slow as I want and people can pass me if they want to!” Well, I am the first to tell you, you can move faster than a snail and not wreck. This type of driving environment should be the hay day of marijuana smokers— you can literally drive 5 MPH, and law enforcement is none the wiser! In fact, pot smoking might actually help those other over-paranoid peeps relax—pass your pipe to the driver next to you who’s sporting some white knuckles!
I also find it humorous that the snow brings out the wanna-be trucks. You all know what I am talking about. If it isn’t a Ford, Chevy or Dodge—it isn’t really a truck. It may pretend to be a truck, but it’s not. It’s like dressing your girlfriend up to be a man—she still has boobs and therefore will never be a man. Your Hyundai, Honda, BMW, etc. will never qualify as a truck in my eyes. Ever. Love me or hate me, I drive a Focus and I know it isn't a luxuary sedan or truck. At least I am real.
Finally, isn’t it strange that when you try to shove your kids out the front door to play in the snow, they complain that it’s cold? It’s like, DUH! Are you new? Snow has never been warm… Hmmmm… I digress. I’ve trashed on enough areas about snow, I suppose I can leave the kids out of it.
I guess my final thought is this, where can you purchase snow shoes online? I am out of wine and my husband took the truck. Dang.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
The Curious Incident of the Case of the Body Snatchers in the Bookstore
I am the proud parent of a tween. It’s not as glamorous as it may seem, in fact, it is often times baffling. Today for example, I took my lovely daughter to Barnes & Noble. Let me preface this statement by interjecting parental perspective—she HATES to read. Literally loathes it and (I think) would rather be dropped off at school in clothes I picked out than be caught dead reading.
So here we are, finding ourselves in the biggest bookstore in West Olympia. We are there with my BFF and her daughters. Tiana strolls off with two other younger girls to keep an eye on them while my BFF and I saunter through the book shelves completely lost in book world. I am happily reading and relating to I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, when my daughter comes bounding at me begging to buy not one, but TWO books. I look at her and think to myself, “Is it really 2012 already?”
Her eyes are twinkling behind her nerd glasses* and she asked me once again if she could purchase two books. My stunned silence must have indicated that I didn’t think she was really talking to me so she repeated herself for the third time. “No!” I stammered. She looked at me with her mouth hanging open and then quickly went into tween sulk-and-be-pissy mode. I have to say, I think buying her a book would cause the future development of small countries to become deterred, because buying her a book would upset the balance of the universe that drastically.
After the decision was made that we would not be purchasing said books** she stomped around the store until we left. I felt bad, because let’s be truthful—I like getting my way too—so I asked if she would like to go to the mall and pick out new jeans. Immediately, she was back to the daughter I knew and was completely stoked about new clothes.
Once at the mall, I told her that we needed to shop the sales and she could only get two new pairs. She agreed*** and we were off. While she tried on jeans she complained that they weren’t “skinny” enough of a cut. Let it be known, I couldn’t even get a wrist in these jeans if I wanted to (which causes me to ponder laundering them). However, after many changes, we finally found the jeans that fit just right, are the right price, AND the right color. WHEW!
As we make our way out to the car, she getsquiet again. I get nervous. I need a simple day today and I feel like she’s gearing up to launch into a serious conversation that I’m not prepared for. So I do what any good American parent does…I plug in my iPod and blast some Lady Gaga completely dodging the situation. There! That should fix anything bothering her. Finally though, her shifty eyes have penetrated my right ear enough. I sigh heavily and turn down the music while simultaneously asking her what’s wrong.
She asks, “Can we go get my books now?”
The only thing I can think of this — some sort of body snatching happened inside the bookstore, and I need to go back and look for my precious baby. What else can explain this phenomenon?
*What’s up with those anyway? When I went to school, we used to punch the kids that wore glasses like that.
**Because in all honesty, I am going to gain HUGE parent points for buying them as Christmas gifts.
***THANK GOD I HAVE TAUGHT HER THE VALUE OF A SALE!!!
So here we are, finding ourselves in the biggest bookstore in West Olympia. We are there with my BFF and her daughters. Tiana strolls off with two other younger girls to keep an eye on them while my BFF and I saunter through the book shelves completely lost in book world. I am happily reading and relating to I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, when my daughter comes bounding at me begging to buy not one, but TWO books. I look at her and think to myself, “Is it really 2012 already?”
Her eyes are twinkling behind her nerd glasses* and she asked me once again if she could purchase two books. My stunned silence must have indicated that I didn’t think she was really talking to me so she repeated herself for the third time. “No!” I stammered. She looked at me with her mouth hanging open and then quickly went into tween sulk-and-be-pissy mode. I have to say, I think buying her a book would cause the future development of small countries to become deterred, because buying her a book would upset the balance of the universe that drastically.
After the decision was made that we would not be purchasing said books** she stomped around the store until we left. I felt bad, because let’s be truthful—I like getting my way too—so I asked if she would like to go to the mall and pick out new jeans. Immediately, she was back to the daughter I knew and was completely stoked about new clothes.
Once at the mall, I told her that we needed to shop the sales and she could only get two new pairs. She agreed*** and we were off. While she tried on jeans she complained that they weren’t “skinny” enough of a cut. Let it be known, I couldn’t even get a wrist in these jeans if I wanted to (which causes me to ponder laundering them). However, after many changes, we finally found the jeans that fit just right, are the right price, AND the right color. WHEW!
As we make our way out to the car, she getsquiet again. I get nervous. I need a simple day today and I feel like she’s gearing up to launch into a serious conversation that I’m not prepared for. So I do what any good American parent does…I plug in my iPod and blast some Lady Gaga completely dodging the situation. There! That should fix anything bothering her. Finally though, her shifty eyes have penetrated my right ear enough. I sigh heavily and turn down the music while simultaneously asking her what’s wrong.
She asks, “Can we go get my books now?”
The only thing I can think of this — some sort of body snatching happened inside the bookstore, and I need to go back and look for my precious baby. What else can explain this phenomenon?
*What’s up with those anyway? When I went to school, we used to punch the kids that wore glasses like that.
**Because in all honesty, I am going to gain HUGE parent points for buying them as Christmas gifts.
***THANK GOD I HAVE TAUGHT HER THE VALUE OF A SALE!!!
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Adult ADD
I often wonder if I am a victim of Adult Attention Deficit Disorder. I seem to sign up for things and then all of the sudden my attention is diverted and the first thing that seemed fun is no longer interesting. You will often find this behavior when you observe two-year-olds. The only benefit of me having ADD is that I will most likely not whack my friend over the head with a wine bottle to take her glass because hers looks better*.
Some of the things I have signed up for have been a half marathon – which I stopped training for. And the National Novel Writing contest – which is half over and I am only ¼ of the way through my 50,000 word count. Hmmmmm. The things that I am suddenly interested in are my CD collection, reading, and sleeping**.
The half marathon is going to hurt. It’s in Seattle which equals that most of it is going to be UP HILL and with my luck, probably BOTH WAYS. I was okay with paying almost the $100 for the entry fee+ and I was deliriously optimistic about my chances of actually finishing the race—until I started talking to people about it. I told my co-workers that I was going to actually RUN the entire 13.1 miles. I told people that I would SMILE when I crossed the finish line. I told my family and friends to come WATCH. What the hell was I THINKING??! Clearly nothing. My boss, sweetest guy ever, looks at me with pity in his eyes and says, “Dacia, there is a really big hill and it’s okay to walk it.” What did my over confident self think when he said that? “Gawff! Dacia doesn’t walk up hills!!! SHE RUNS THEM!”++ Did I mention how fit my boss is and how he probably is right? Yes, people, I am going to die mid-half-marathon.
So the novel writing contest...Ha! I got this idea for a book based on some song lyrics. I figured I could turn it into a full blown novel until I got to page 22 and thought, “Hmm….I don’t have a plot.” I am aimlessly writing and wondering just where this story is going. People have asked, “What are you writing about now?” and I can’t help but just stare at them like a deer frozen in headlights. I haven’t got a clue but I assure you all that it’s going to be a masterpiece+++.
As of today, I have decided that I am not going to sign up for anything else after November. I can’t seem to keep a focus on anything and my CD’s seem to captivate my interest for right now. Although, as I look at this eclectic mash of musical taste, I can’t help but wonder—does even my music suffer from my inability to focus? *heavy sigh*
Looks like Spanish classes start up in January. Maybe I should look into those to give me some focus.
*Notice the use of ‘most likely’ here. It could happen…you never know.
**AND eating…always eating. I never seem to lose interest in that.
+ I am going to wear the thread out of that race t-shirt I tell you!
++ Clearly I am not only a victim of ADD, but also insanity. I am legally insane, I think.
+++Most crazy people do their best work at the height of their insanity.
Some of the things I have signed up for have been a half marathon – which I stopped training for. And the National Novel Writing contest – which is half over and I am only ¼ of the way through my 50,000 word count. Hmmmmm. The things that I am suddenly interested in are my CD collection, reading, and sleeping**.
The half marathon is going to hurt. It’s in Seattle which equals that most of it is going to be UP HILL and with my luck, probably BOTH WAYS. I was okay with paying almost the $100 for the entry fee+ and I was deliriously optimistic about my chances of actually finishing the race—until I started talking to people about it. I told my co-workers that I was going to actually RUN the entire 13.1 miles. I told people that I would SMILE when I crossed the finish line. I told my family and friends to come WATCH. What the hell was I THINKING??! Clearly nothing. My boss, sweetest guy ever, looks at me with pity in his eyes and says, “Dacia, there is a really big hill and it’s okay to walk it.” What did my over confident self think when he said that? “Gawff! Dacia doesn’t walk up hills!!! SHE RUNS THEM!”++ Did I mention how fit my boss is and how he probably is right? Yes, people, I am going to die mid-half-marathon.
So the novel writing contest...Ha! I got this idea for a book based on some song lyrics. I figured I could turn it into a full blown novel until I got to page 22 and thought, “Hmm….I don’t have a plot.” I am aimlessly writing and wondering just where this story is going. People have asked, “What are you writing about now?” and I can’t help but just stare at them like a deer frozen in headlights. I haven’t got a clue but I assure you all that it’s going to be a masterpiece+++.
As of today, I have decided that I am not going to sign up for anything else after November. I can’t seem to keep a focus on anything and my CD’s seem to captivate my interest for right now. Although, as I look at this eclectic mash of musical taste, I can’t help but wonder—does even my music suffer from my inability to focus? *heavy sigh*
Looks like Spanish classes start up in January. Maybe I should look into those to give me some focus.
*Notice the use of ‘most likely’ here. It could happen…you never know.
**AND eating…always eating. I never seem to lose interest in that.
+ I am going to wear the thread out of that race t-shirt I tell you!
++ Clearly I am not only a victim of ADD, but also insanity. I am legally insane, I think.
+++Most crazy people do their best work at the height of their insanity.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
The Writing Biz
What a whirlwind time I have had these past couple of weeks! Being a small time writing celebrity sure is a lot of work. I can’t wait to be a REAL celebrity with all my personal assistants in tow… imagine if you will, me, with four gorgeous assistants who keep me fed, watered, walked and happy. Wait a second—that almost sounds like a dog hoping for a family. Maybe I am a puppy. Nevertheless, dog or human, it would be grand.
So back to writing. I wrote a book. I have actually written two and the one I just finished self-publishing (which I would like to add is only for those writers who are mentally insane) is finally up for sale on Amazon.com. Never in my life did I think I would have a book for sale. I collected pre-orders for those who wanted theirs signed and the feedback has been outstanding. Supportive networks I have going on out there. But that’s not the first thing in this chain of wild events.
I said I’ve had a whirlwind of a few weeks (I seem to keep getting off track here) and it started with Meeting Ann Rule at a book signing in Tumwater. It was my first ever experience meeting a real author and I have to say, I was a little star struck! For once in my life, I was speechless until my new friend, Kim told me to speak. Oh! I suppose I should introduce Kim to the rest of you...
I met and made friends with a REAL reporter for a newspaper down in Lewis County. She* interviewed my dad and I for their local paper (while we stood in line waiting for Ann) and lo and behold we were printed up. Of course my dad had far wittier things to say, BUT! we were there just like Lloyd Christmas is to Harry Dunne** hamming up the scene. Anyhow, Kim is a really cool gal*** and perhaps I can bring her around Shelton for show and tell sometime.
So, back from the rabbit trail—my book is finally published and is released for sale, newspaper prints story, people are shoving $20 bills into my hands left and right, my oompa loompas are going crazy with all the crazy fans surrounding the estate, and this circus just keeps getting crazier. Perhaps I should start photographing my circus life? My next book Dacialand: The Circus in Pictures.
Anyhow, it’s been a fun ride thus far and I can’t wait for more…
Bring it on life, bring it on. +
*Kim the reporter!
**Lloyd Christmas and Harry Dunne are the characters in Dumb and Dumber. I had to explain who Lloyd Christmas was to my boss the other day so I just wanted to make sure everyone else understood this too. :)
***which makes me question – would a person make friends with someone they didn’t think was cool? My guess is no.
+Last time I said that I was given a HUGE project at work so I am thinking this mantra will work!
So back to writing. I wrote a book. I have actually written two and the one I just finished self-publishing (which I would like to add is only for those writers who are mentally insane) is finally up for sale on Amazon.com. Never in my life did I think I would have a book for sale. I collected pre-orders for those who wanted theirs signed and the feedback has been outstanding. Supportive networks I have going on out there. But that’s not the first thing in this chain of wild events.
I said I’ve had a whirlwind of a few weeks (I seem to keep getting off track here) and it started with Meeting Ann Rule at a book signing in Tumwater. It was my first ever experience meeting a real author and I have to say, I was a little star struck! For once in my life, I was speechless until my new friend, Kim told me to speak. Oh! I suppose I should introduce Kim to the rest of you...
I met and made friends with a REAL reporter for a newspaper down in Lewis County. She* interviewed my dad and I for their local paper (while we stood in line waiting for Ann) and lo and behold we were printed up. Of course my dad had far wittier things to say, BUT! we were there just like Lloyd Christmas is to Harry Dunne** hamming up the scene. Anyhow, Kim is a really cool gal*** and perhaps I can bring her around Shelton for show and tell sometime.
So, back from the rabbit trail—my book is finally published and is released for sale, newspaper prints story, people are shoving $20 bills into my hands left and right, my oompa loompas are going crazy with all the crazy fans surrounding the estate, and this circus just keeps getting crazier. Perhaps I should start photographing my circus life? My next book Dacialand: The Circus in Pictures.
Anyhow, it’s been a fun ride thus far and I can’t wait for more…
Bring it on life, bring it on. +
*Kim the reporter!
**Lloyd Christmas and Harry Dunne are the characters in Dumb and Dumber. I had to explain who Lloyd Christmas was to my boss the other day so I just wanted to make sure everyone else understood this too. :)
***which makes me question – would a person make friends with someone they didn’t think was cool? My guess is no.
+Last time I said that I was given a HUGE project at work so I am thinking this mantra will work!
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