Category Archives: in-laws

Happy/Unhappy

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Things that make me happy:


It’s Friday!


Going to the bookstore to pick up Inkheart (recall I’m a big geek-reader and generally, when a new movie comes out that was based on a book, I ignore the movie and read the book instead – it’s always better), and walking out with Searching for the Sound for $1.89. Score!

My new Ipod Touch. This was the best kind of Christmas gift. The kind that I had no idea that I even wanted, but as it turns out – I really, really did. It’s awesome having the music I love – the music you never, ever hear on the radio – at my fingertips:

My job. I know I’m a bit of a Pollyanna about Awesome Company, but I swear – they really are awesome. I love what I do, I love what our company does, I love my bosses. I work with a group of really smart, fun, kind, funny, wonderful people and I am well aware of how lucky I am. If I ever feel even slightly jaded about things here, all I have to do is remind myself of my last job and I snap out of it. While I had a few coworkers who were really great, I also worked amid some of the fucked up weirdoes I have ever met (and not the good kind of weird fucked-up-ed-ness, either). There was cattiness, overly competitive bullshit, way too much gossip, way too little money, and the worst boss, ever. He was snobby, cheap, and an asshole. At a Christmas party at his house (which he spent the previous year telling us all what he paid for it “in cash”), he had two different “levels” of liquor. One for him, his wife, and a couple other bigwigs (which included a couple selections of red and white wine and some decent liquor, served in nice glasses), and another for the rest of us (big jugs of low end screw-top wine, and such liquor selections as Popov vodka, served in plastic) Also – don’t get me wrong – if I come to your house and you serve me any of those selections, I will happily and graciously drink them. But if you have better stuff and don’t think I am good enough for it, you’re an asshole. And really, I can sum up the kind of guy he is in one sentence: he has been heard introducing his children as “My biological son and my adopted daughter”.

Snow! I want more!

Having a viola player entertain us on Christmas Eve. So cool.

Family:

Weird family:

The fact that this didn’t happen at my house:

Cousins:

Girls with guitars:

New Year’s Eve:

Shortly after this, we serenaded the entire neighborhood with “The Greatest Love of All”, and announced that George Benson is the best and Whitney is a crack whore. So to those residents of South Fayette who got to enjoy our performance: You’re welcome.

Things that make me unhappy:

Traffic during snow season. The normal Pittsburgh nightmare of driving with the Asshole Traffic Brigade reaches new lows of ballsuckery during snow season.


Having one’s “class clown” reputation overshadow ones intelligence or compassion or authority. It sucks. I can be silly and goofy and a little bit of a hothead, and still be smart and kind and in control. And just because I joke around a lot doesn’t mean that I don’t have feelings that can be hurt.

The fact that the fuckbucket dog knocked maple syrup onto my carpet and his brother, the fucknugget cat tracked it all around.

Ending on an unhappy note, so I will go back to things that make me happy:

The fact that my SILs are coming down on Saturday for our monthly drunkover. Yay! I’m so blessed to have these wonderful women in my life. Being an only child, suddenly having sisters means the world to me. I know so many people who dread in-law time and I know how lucky I am. I now have six sisters-on-law, and a whole slew of nieces and nephews who get a huge kick out of being my age or older and calling me Aunt Gina ( I have to keep reminding them that their uncle robbed the cradle). There are even great and great-great nieces and nephews. It’s awesome. Also awesome? My SIL Weenie and niece Scabs, who indulge my nonsense:

I gave them these for Christmas and told them they were appropriate whether we were together or apart.

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WTF, Dog??

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So the impromptu I-didn’t-know-I-was-having-it party on Saturday was a lot of fun. Only a few of the invitees were able to come and I ended up extending the invitation to a few of my family members and friends, and our neighbors dropped by (no – not crazy the asshole neighbors), and it turned out to be a great time. There was drinking and game-playing and karaoke singing and crazy blond wig wearing and terrible, untalented move-bustin. And good food.

And other than the fact that the dog seems to hate my cousin’s husband, John, for no reason – a good time was had my all. Except by the dog. Because he hates wearing crazy blond wigs almost as much as he hates John. (which, seriously – wtf, Dog? Wigs are fun. And so is John. He’s loved far and wide by dogs and kids alike. And the dog used to love my cousin, but he’s not too wild about her either, now that she’s carrying his spawn. So clearly she has to divorce him now, which is too bad because he’s a nice guy. WTF, Dog??) We had a ton of alcohol left over from my birthday party, so it was a good way to get rid of it. Except that everyone brought something to drink and we somehow have more booze than when we started. Isn’t that just awful? I think I’ll go console myself with a glass of my choice of seven different wines. Or a beer. Or a mojito. Or a daiquiri. Or a rum and coke.

Oh – also – for my birthday, Hedge and Rapunzel gave me a blender, since I was lamenting not having one (I have broken two in the past 6 years by making frozen drinks. And not smoothies – big surprise). So anyway, I inaugurated it Saturday night and was feeling all warm and fuzzy about my friends being so awesome and giving me a gift that clearly shows their love and affection for me (because nothing say love like a delicious frozen alcoholic drink). Until I realized that they were trying to kill me. Yes – my dear friends clearly rigged the blender so it would malfunction and cause my death.

You see, I made a batch of daiquiris – non-alcoholic for my pregnant cousin and the kids. And since they didn’t have any extra liquid (rum) in them and I was too drunk stupid to replace the rum with another liquid – like water – they were very thick. I had to spoon them out rather than pour them. I got drinks my cousin and non-drinking SIL (not my BFF SIL, Weenie – by midnight, she was half passed out on the dog pillow – you guess if she’s a teetotaler) and was trying to spoon the last of it out for the kids when the bottom of the pitcher (with the blades) fell off and landed on my foot. At first, I didn’t realize the magnitude of my injury because it just hurts when something lands on your foot. But then, a split second later, I looked down to see my entire foot covered in blood and a growing puddle of it on the floor. My first thought was, “Holy shit, I cut my foot.” My second thought was “Goddammit, I just cleaned this floor!”

Then, I spotted something on the floor. It was pale pink and toe-shaped and covered in blood. And my next thought was “Oh my God, I cut off my toe!” I sat down to inspect it before I got anyone upset about my toe-ectomy and discovered I hadn’t in fact cut off my toe – it was just a toe-shaped drop of extra-thick daiquiri, which was definitely good news. But the bad news is that my toe was still bleeding like crazy. Everyone was running around like crazy with towels and bandages and Neosporin (except for my faints at the sight of blood friend who expressed her concern from the relative safety of the family room). My non-passed-out-on-the-dog-pillow SIL was insisting that I needed to go to the ER, and all I could think about at this point was that if I had to go to the ER, it would ruin this party.

We eventually got it to stop bleeding, after approxmately 10 paper towels, lots of pressure, 16 feet of gauze, 8 pounds of cotton, and 8 Dora band-aids. Needless to say, I didn’t go to the hospital. Which isn’t as stupid as it sounds. Because even though the current version of the story involves almost bleeding to death, an explosion, a desperate dive to safety, snakes, giant, whirring blades that narrowly missed my carotid artery, and – depending on how hungover I am when I’m telling it – insane ninjas, it really wasn’t that bad. Except for the profuse bleeding. And the ninjas.

I Love You Guys!

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I really do love you guys, but I’m actually referring to the drunken version of “I love you guys.”

You know – the kind where your husband has a surprise party for you for your 40th birthday and you are so excited and touched that everyone came.

And then you drink, and you get all, “OMG, I am so lucky to have these people, they are awesome!

And then you drink some more and you’re like, “You guys rock! I wish you were here EVERY DAY!!”

And then you have another mojito and start with the “I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!”

And then you have yet another mojito and get all, “This is so much fun. We need to do this more often. How about next Saturday? Everyone can come and we’ll have a big girl’s night party and you’ll all stay over and IT’LL BE AWESOME!!!!!

And then you have a couple more drinks and then you pass out go to sleep and then you don’t think about it again.

And then five days later your sister-in-law calls you and asks if you are still on for tomorrow and you’re happy because you were planning on SIL and N(iece)IL coming down for a the night and you say, “Yeah – I was hoping you were still coming!” And then she says, “ALL of us?” And then you start hearing the Psycho shower scene music in your head, because you have no idea who “all of us” entails and have no recollection of inviting anyone except Weenie and Scabs. But you know you get all “I Love You Guys” when you drink and OMG he has a huge family and even with just the girls there are six sisters and countless nieces and niece-in-laws and great nieces and Oh! My! God!

But then you remember that you finally have some room for people in the house and you have been waiting for years for just that so you could entertain, and there is HELLA leftover beer and wine and rum, and they will all bring food, because they don’t know how to go anywhere without gobs of food, and so what if you have to clean the house and all its crevices tonight and tomorrow (and again on Sunday) and know you will have a great time because YOU LOVE THOSE GUYS!!

The good and the bad

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I was out of the office from Wednesday until yesterday and it was great. Except for the yesterday part. Man, the first day back after a long break is killer. I relaxed for exactly. . . oh. . . 13 minutes the entire time, but it was still a nice break. Of course, there’s good and bad in everything:

Wednesday:

The good – I took the boy for his nephrology checkup and sonogram (for those who don’t know, he has a multicystic kidney, which was diagnosed in utero). Everything looks good – The “good” kidney is larger and working well (strangely, it is a duplex kidney), and the cystic one is a bit smaller (it had gotten bigger last time, so I was a little nervous).

The bad – OMG, the CHP parking situation!!

The good – Having time enough in between to hit the gift shop fore some caffeine.

The bad – Seeing what I think may have been an old friend in the gift shop and not being sure. And not speaking to her (though in my defense, she looked right at me and didn’t speak either, so it may not have been her) (and in her defense – if it was her, I have gained 6000 pounds since I last saw her and she may have been thinking, “that looks like Gina, only big and fat”) (and if that’s the case, well, then she wasn’t looking too hot herself so fuck it)

The good: The boy realizing that I have been right for all these years about the blood test not being painful, and only seeming that way because he was bitching and stressing out and whining about it.

The bad: Listening to the boy bitch and stress and whine and about the blood test for hours days weeks beforehand.

The good: Finally telling hi to suck it up and reminding him of the thousands of shots his diabetic cousin and friend get. It shut him up.

The bad: Waiting forever for the nephrologist (why does spell check reject “nephrologist”, but think that “nephrologists” and “nephrologists’” is OK? Are they only allowed to exist in groups?)

The good: He’s the best so he’s worth it. Also – he backed me up on the no excessive caffeine rule. HAHAHA Take, that Mountain Dew!

The good: Meeting a bunch of in-laws for a nice dinner and drinks

The bad: Blowing my diet

Thursday:

The good: The office closing at 1:00, and only having to use 1 hr of PTO to get off in time to meet the in-laws for some fun.
The bad: Being scheduled to work from home, which meant I had twice as long of a drive to meet them

The good: Getting the whole gang – minus one – into the Science Center for free on my membership

The bad: Missing the Titanic exhibit because they are charging eleventy-five hundred dollars extra to get in

The good: Having a great day with the kids and some of the in-laws, including my favorite sister-in-law. Plus – not having the whole damned tribe there meant we could actually move at a reasonable pace

The bad: The place was so fucking crowded

The good: My new boyfriend, Art – the elderly scientist

The good: Having a few more meet us for a nice dinner

The bad: Blowing my diet. . .again

And I almost forgot –
The bad: The kids forcing us to go through the submarine of claustrophobia and smells

The good: Hanging with my nephew-in-law-in-law and actually learning shit

The bad: Getting separated from the group since the kids only wanted to go through it and not actually seeing anything. Plus they can jump through those little hatches more easily

The good: Not actually getting my fat ass stuck in the hatches, despite my Winnie the Pooh predictions

The bad: Getting stuck behind a big fat guy who got stuck in a hatch

The good: Big fat guy stuck in a hatch

Friday:

The good: Not having any picnics, parties or obligations (the past two days of in-law extravaganza made up for missing the party today).

The bad: Still having a million things to do, like cleaning, shopping for groceries, stuff for the scouting trip and grandma’s birthday gift, and preparing food for the next day.

The good: Hello – shopping!

The bad: Hello – shopping with a four-year old!

Saturday:

The good: Sleeping in until. . .oh wait

The bad: Getting up early and going to the grocery store since stupid fucking wal-mart didn’t have what I needed to make my food yesterday. The bastards.

The good: Spending the day with family and celebrating grandma’s 89th birthday

The bad: The asshole republicans (note: not all the republicans – just the asshole ones) and racists in attendance.

The good: They left early and I got to make fun of them all day long. Plus I replaced everyone’s cell phone wallpaper with a photo of myself

The bad: I had to drive, so no drinking

The good: My cousin offering to take the boy home, so the girl and I could spend the night. Having drinks and staying up late laughing with my aunts and cousin.

The bad: Having to get up early and drive home to get the boy off to scout camp

Sunday:

The good: The boy having his first Boy Scout camp on his own

The bad: Getting ready for camp

The good: Remembering everything, being on time and taking a nice drive through the mountains to drop him off.

The bad: Having to bite my lip and chew off my own hands to avoid killing that asshole kid that I hate.

The good: Getting the boy settled into his tent and him being lucky enough to get a brand new cot and a “porch.” AND having his tent far away from the asshole kid that I hate.

The bad: Spiders!

The good: Meeting so many nice kids and knowing that my boy has plenty of good role models to counteract the asshole kid that I hate. Seeing him thrive in this element of camaraderie and the outdoors and respect and footballs and one big fat lab. Knowing that even though he drives me crazy sometimes, he’s turning out alright.

Some pics:

Bike riding at the school:

She loves tearing down these covered hallways. I guess it must a little like riding inside – off limits, and therefore fun:

Making a wish:

She wished that I would Stop. Taking. Photos!!!!

The Earthquake Diner at the Science Center:

Art – my new scientist boyfriend:

Incoming!!



“A Scout is Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean and Reverent” OK, I’ll give him Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Kind and Brave. And a big old sometimes on the Courteous, Obedient and Cheerful. The Clean can be iffy. And Thrifty? HAHAHAHAHA! Now, Reverent – I don’t know about. Does the worshipping of all things Playstation count?

Grandma (“Baba”) and her great-grandchildren. There’s another on the way (banish that thought – it’s not me):