Category Archives: weekend

I can dig it, nephew. I can totally dig it.

Here I am on vacation! Three days off. What WILL I do with myself, I wonder? Oh, mostly hang out with the most amazing little relative I know, that’s all. That’s right! It is THE WEEKEND OF THE NEPHEW! I will be in the middle of nowhere Saturday and Sunday and some of Monday (and possibly Friday night, depending on when I decide to leave) so no Twitter for me. Or Facebook. Or email. I know, what will happen, it’s like my head will explode. Don’t worry, you have posts to carry you over that will post like magic. I can’t approve your comments (well, I might be able to get on my parents’ ancient dialup in the middle of the night and do that, maybe, but no guarantees – sometimes their computer won’t load any websites I want to get onto, sometimes it will, it operates on the power of whims and possibly fairydust) so don’t freak out if you comment and then check back hours later and it’s still not there – it will be! But maybe a couple days later! – but there will be posts for you to read, anyway. I’ve got you covered, my little cherry blossoms.

This is me dealing with my parents’ ancient computer. SO FRUSTRATING GOOD GRIEF.

Plus, this is the first time I can bring my laptop home! I know, impressive, right? I’m hoping I can convince The Nephew to sit still for more than five seconds so I can get a laptop video of him doing something like reading with me or playing or something. How much fun would that be? The most fun, is how much. You will all fall madly in love with him. He’s really the best. He has as much energy as a magical being, and also he laughs. A LOT. You have a very hard time being in a bad mood around him, because he just laughs and laughs and bounces like Tigger and makes faces and talks to his toys and says things like, “I’m building a ZOOMINATOR!” and that’s not a thing, and how can you not smile at something like that? The answer is, you can’t. You enter in a crabbity mood and you leave grinning like a moron. He’s sunshine, that kiddo. 

Aw, here is The Nephew! Like Baby Tigger, he is!

Anyway, so as you read this, I am either just arriving at my parents’ house, or I decided to drive late last night to beat the heat in my hot hot HOT car and am currently playing with The Nephew. Haven’t quite decided which it will be yet. Saturday we’re (hopefully – that’s the plan as of right now, however, plans have a tendency to change, so I don’t like to get my hopes all up and get them dashed, that’s the worst) hanging out, and I’m in charge of the babysittery as my mom needs to cook and bake all day, my dad will be at his class reunion place decorating all day (his class reunion, with Super Sarah, is Saturday night – well, that is, if she decides to come, she might still be boycotting because they were SO MEAN TO HER AND HER PLUS-ONE, SPACESHIP JESUS) and The Nephew’s mom will be decorating the park where we’re having his party all day, and his dad (my little brother, obviously) will be working all day. So hmm, WHO, I wonder, could be up for babysitting one squirmy happy laughy little toddler who is just about to turn three? I think his aunt. I think his amazing fun wonderful aunt who misses him like crazy and can’t wait to spend time with him.

I have books picked out that he hasn’t even seen yet that I think will make him laugh; I am running over to get pre-birthday toys to give him on Saturday to play with (listen, I know I spoil him, but that’s what long-distance aunts are for), and I am totally prepared for a day spent on the floor playing with trains and cars and dinosaurs and Matchbox cars and watching Nick Jr. I AM READY FOR THIS YO. Then he will go home, and my parents will go out to the class reunion, and I will blog but not be able to post anything or even get onto WordPress because, well, no internet unless I brave the wireless (it’s a chore, I’m not going to lie, and also? no cellphone service up there, well, at least with my service, other people have service but not me because I have a weird service provider, so I can’t even use my phone to stay in touch with the world, I KNOW, it is the WORST)  but I will have posts pre-written and scheduled so you’ll be fine. I’ll at least be able to write posts so I’ll be all prepared for when I get back. 

Then Sunday! There will be much grumbling and guilt-trippery in the morning, entitled “Don’t You Think You Should Go To Church With Us, You Are Really Breaking God’s Heart,” with the pre-programmed response “I Would Go Up In Flames if I Passed the Threshold, and Also, Have They Stopped Condemning Homosexuality and Have They Allowed Female Priests Yet?” It is a time-honored dance we do every time I go home, and we have memorized our lines and very seldom go off-script. 

Me if I entered the church nowadays, only instead of setting OTHERS on fire, I think it’d be ME going up in flames. I’m totally sinful.

After they get home from church (a place I will not be going) we will be heading for the park. At the park it will be hot, and there will be many mosquitoes and flies and things of that nature. That’s what happens at these things. Mostly you spend the day slapping. Oh, well. It’s only once a year. The theme for The Nephew’s party is Can You Dig It? because he loves construction vehicles at the moment.

This came up in a “can you dig it” search. This would be an AWESOME theme for a 3-year-old’s birthday party. Isaac HAYES themed! WHOO!

Oh, were you not aware that parties need themes now? Yes. That is a thing. Back when I was young, the theme of birthday parties was “WE ARE HAVING A PARTY” and you went to the kid’s house and you ate some cake and sometimes you played a game and you watched them open presents and then you went home. Now there is a theme, and there are stand-up things for you to take your photo with, and sometimes there are bounce-houses and sometimes there are (shudder) clowns. I’m not sure what there will be at this one. The first year he had a bounce house.

Bee tee dubs, I wasn’t allowed in the bounce house. Apparently grown up adult people could POP the bounce house. That’s disheartening. I looked longingly at it ALL DAY.

The second year, stand-up Cars figures to take your photo with, and gift-bags full of Cars toys for everyone to take home (except, not me. I couldn’t have a gift bag. THOSE ARE FOR THE KIDS AMY. Sigh. Grumble.) This year, who knows. I’m hoping for a full-sized backhoe, driven by a male stripper in a construction hat and overalls and no shirt. What, that’s not children’s-birthday-party appropriate? LET ME DREAM DAMMIT. Why so mean? 

Like this! This is children-appropriate, right? RIGHT.

Then we will party and party and the kiddo will get ALL THE PRESENTS (he’s been going around saying “I have a BIRTHDAY! I get a PRESENT!” for weeks, I like that he thinks he’s getting ONE present) and then all the kids will swim because there’s a pool at that park. I will not swim, because I don’t own a bathing suit and I don’t know how to swim, so those are good reasons. Then we will clean up the park, and we will go home, and I will laze on the couch in a sun and picnic-food stupor for a while. I haven’t yet decided if I’m driving home on Sunday or Monday. I have Monday off as a vacation day, because I PLANNED AHEAD. I know, right? Fancy. I emailed the lady in charge of vacation time and I was like, hey, do I have any vacation time? And she was like, you have so much vacation time it’s kind of cuckoo-bananas and if you’re not careful, you’re going to lose some. And I was like, cool cool cool, I’m taking Monday off. So if I leave Sunday afternoon/evening, I get all day Monday off in my own place to relax and also there will be internet access, which at that point I will be jonesing for, and poor Dumbcat who will be missing me the most will not go into total Dumbcat clinging to my leg as if I was a dead person resurrected mode. But also I could leave Monday morning and still have most of the day Monday to myself, and that’d be ok, too. We’ll play it by ear, I guess.

Oh, also at some point I need to visit my grandmother, because she will be sadface if I came home and didn’t stop to see her. Maybe I can get some info about the Rough on Rats killer in our family from her, that’d be fun. I will not, however, have time to visit Helper Mule this time around. That will have to be when I go home at the end of July/beginning of August. So, less than a month until you get photos of Helper Mule! And ME with Helper Mule! Are you so excited? I thought so. Dad has had no Helper Mule info lately. He never goes over there to hang out with Rooster and Helper Mule and Crankity Possibly-Pregnant Mare, even when I ask him to. Sigh. I will, hopefully, get to see my brother’s dog this time around, who is Dumbcat but in DOG form (she’s not very bright, but I love her more than any dog ever, and she also loves me and we cuddle and she is the best beagle in the history of beagles. When she was a puppy, she was so little she could fit in a coat pocket, and she would sleep on my chest and snuggle her muzzle into my neck and she smelled like puppy. I adore her.)  

She was cuter than this. I promise. There was not a cuter beagle puppy in the history of the world than she was.

There! That is my weekend. Now you are IN THE KNOW! It will be quite an adventure. I am going to attempt to take a lot of photos, because then I can write you an epic post when I get back to the land of internet access complete with photos to document what happened because everything’s better with photos, EVERYTHING. Although I’m pretty sure my family will be all NO PHOTOS OF US YOU’LL JUST POST THEM ON THE BLOG. They’re savvy to my obsession with the blog (not that they READ it, THANKS SUPPORTIVE FAMILY) and that most photos I take end up there at some point, and therefore always giving me a suspicious look when the camera comes out. 

Have a wonderful weekend, and enjoy the weather, and if anything shocking or exciting happens in the world, please make a note and then tell me when I get back either on Sunday or Monday, because the only news outlet I’ll be allowed to monitor for the next 48 hours or so is…um…purportedly both fair AND balanced but I think we all know it’s neither. Neither of those things. Unless by fair, you mean the female reporters all look like Stepford wives and by balanced you mean the male reporters are red-faced and shouty and think we’re all heading toward a future of marrying turtles. So, take NOTES, and I expect a full Twitter report, as well as a current events report, please. I’ll need one when I get back. 48 hours in fair-and-balanced land tends to make me most stupiderest. 


Tell me on a Sunday, please. Or maybe a Wednesday. What day is this?

Here we are, tater tots. Wednesday! Week’s halfway done. I’m pre-writing this, as I do. So here in Amy-land, it’s a lovely Sunday. I am loafing and writing and finishing making magical packages of awesomeness to send to Germany and playing with Twitter and painting my nails and watching a LOT of bad television and nibbling on popsicles and contemplating scrubbing the tub which I hate doing, but it needs to be done (blergh) and generally spending the day as I most enjoy spending my Sundays: doing exactly what I want to do in a timeline I want to do it in. Well, except the tub-scrubbery. No one wants to do that. Do any of you want to do that? Because I’ll let you, if you want.

Yep, I totally look like this today. All fancy & shit. OH WAIT NO I DON’T.

I’m working through old shows this summer. Currently, I’m watching last summer’s shows. I’m that far behind on my television watching. So this summer, I’m watching last summer’s Pretty Little Liars, Warehouse 13, Drop Dead Diva, and Project Runway. Yes, none of these have that much merit or value. I’m aware. This makes them perfect for summer viewing. I don’t want to think too much during the summer. It’s hot, and I want to sit on the couch typing and half-watch television while I do so. These shows are perfect for that, because you really don’t have to pay a lot of attention to them. They go on just fine without you paying close attention. There are silly twists and melodrama and pretty dresses and sometimes steamy kissery. I’m very pleased with these shows for my heat-addled brain’s summer viewing pleasure. I KNOW, you’re probably all QUITE DISAPPOINTED I’m not as deep as you thought I was. Sorry. I’m really not. I like silly foolish pretty things as much as the next girl. (Also, does anyone WATCH Pretty Little Liars? What is UP with Aria’s earrings? They are HUGE! They would ruin her whole ears. Although, honestly? She is cute as a damn button, that girl. I have a little envy of her adorableness.)

Stylish, but also? HEAVY.

I have very exciting things coming up (well, one of them has passed at this point, which is one of the perils of writing so far in advance) this week. And I thought I had no plans! But now I have ALL THE PLANS! First, I am going to dinner with some theater friends. We are getting spicy Indian food. Are you so excited? I am. By the time you are reading this, it’s already happened. Hopefully I was well-behaved and didn’t totally act like a jackass, and my social anxiety didn’t ratchet up to crazy heights. Also, Dad said, “You shouldn’t eat Indian food. It will kill you. IT WILL KILL YOU.” I’m not really sure it will, since the people who live in India eat it all the time and seem to be thriving just fine, but apparently that’s another thing that Dad wouldn’t do: eat Indian food.

This looks good, right? I think so. I’m tentatively optimistic.

I just checked the menu and it has a LOT of things and now I am immediately worried that I am going to either get something I hate or look like an idiot in front of people that I don’t want to look like an idiot in front of because the few times I’ve gone out for Indian food before it was either a buffet (therefore, the choice is removed from you – you just take whatever looks yummy) or I think I just got some sort of curry and that was that. But there are a LOT of choices on this menu. THIS IS VERY DIFFICULT. Also I like these people but don’t know them very well because we’ve worked together but never socialized so I am now officially freaking out. See? See why I am not ever fit to socialize with the normal folks? Good grief. I just sent Twitter an SOS and told them to decide for me. They have to work with the constrictions that I hate onions, garlic, most vegetables, beef, and anything that strikes me as weird.

This was easily-found on the internet. I AM NOT THE ONLY PERSON WHO HATES THESE THINGS KEN.

So far I think we’ve decided I can have a glass of water and maybe some chicken if I scrape off all the sauce. And a free breath mint at the register. Maybe. Bee tee dubs, Ken’s totally despairing over my food issues today. Here, I’ll show you:

Anyway, so I’m freaking out about something that normal people wouldn’t. No, not just food. People AND food. Welcome to my head, it’s a fun place to be. This will already be old news by the time you read this so I’m sure you’ll know if I a., died of Indian-food-related death or b., made a fool out of myself. Or, c., it all went fine, which is probably what will happen. I’m thinking probably c. I always blow social shit all out of proportion.

Then then THEN, my friend N. sent me a message and a play he wrote is being performed this Friday. Well, I want to go! Because guess who was sort-of-kind-of the inspiration for the play? No, not Idi Amin. ME ME ME! I want to see the play sort-of-kind-of based on me! Also, N.’s playwriting skills are really kind of stunning. I have all kinds of envy. Not the “I HATE HIM” kind – I couldn’t be more pleased for him – but the “WHOA do I wish I could do that” kind. I tried to write plays once. I wrote three. Two were somewhat successful. One was terrible. And then I stopped writing them, because it never was something I wanted to do again. It’s not like I miss it. It just wasn’t my thing. My dialogue is stilted and I have no eye for what makes a dramatic scenario. (One was good enough to win a prize, though. And be performed! On television! I know, quite fancy. Someday I will attempt to get it switched from VHS to DVD and you can all see wee skinny 17-year-old Amy being interviewed on television. It’s a kick.)

ANYWAY, N. is wonderful at such things, and extremely talented, and I’m very much looking forward to seeing his show. I’m attempting to get out and do more things that are not in my comfort zone. It’s a thing I’m trying. I’ll report back and let you know how the experiment progresses.

Then then THEN, Sunday, I’m going to Poughkeepsie to see C. and C. and Vassar that looks like all the castles and to see a play with fancy PEOPLE in it! From the front ROW!


I know. This week really is going to be the best, right? Although I detest summer heat and humidity and grossness and such, I certainly do love doing things in the summer. There are always fun things happening. Soon there will be a trip home for The Nephew’s 3rd birthday celebration, then there will be a trip home for a long week-and-a-half where you will totally miss me because I will be OFF THE INTERWEBZ for 9 whole days (well, I’ll still have posts, I think…working on that, don’t fret, my little lemon drops) and then there is MORE bon vivanting before the closing of the year. I know! Oh, and a BIRTHDAY before the year is up, whoo-hoo! And a BOOK! And a VERY AUSPICIOUS ANNIVERSARY, which we will talk more about in a few months! I know, 2012 is really rounding out nicely. I so approve, 2012.

The rest of the week will be work work work come home WRITE WRITE WRITE slouch slouch try to read a little sleep repeat. I am trying VERY HARD to keep up with sj’s Tolkien read this summer. I can already see myself getting super-behind. My reading’s been spotty lately. This is what happens when you write every second you’re not working or sleeping (and also sometimes writing when you ARE working. Ahem. If anyone from work is reading this, THAT IS A LIE I WOULD NEVER HA.) So far I am still on-target with the reading. WHEW! Yes yes YES it just started. Shush, you.

OK. On to my next project: walking over to my mailbox and seeing if I got my final piece of the top-secret prize package, then making you all a pretty video of what’s in it, wrapping it all up, then packaging it for mailing tomorrow. I know, this is so short, Amy-wise. I have THINGS TO DO. Tub-scrubbery! Package-wrappery! This is quite a day! Yay for Sundays! That you read about on Wednesdays!

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