Moving on, I guess I could tell you about how Saturday I went to Taste of Calgary and flirted shamelessly with one of the guys handing out beers. He was hot so I’m forgiven. Turns out he is friends with Blondie’s friend, Trainer. He used to be a trainer too so he’s got muscles and height which are a good combination in my eyes. I hate being set up but if we all happen to go out sometime I won’t complain. Meaning, we better all go out sometime or I will complain.
Saturday night I had my mother over for dinner. I made portobello mushroom chicken and roasted peppers with a salad. At least the food was pretty good. My mother is very hard to explain so I won’t bother trying. I’ll just say that after dinner we drank a bottle of wine, a bottle of mojitos, and some coolers.
Frenchie and her sister showed up, because the three of us were going to this housewarming party together. For the first half an hour all was good, my mom was well-behaved although super drunk and trying a little too hard to be funny. When she tries to be funny she ends up being mean.
For example, Frenchie and her sis Pouts, look very young. They are 28 and 30 but look about 18 or 20. My mother started on about them being so cute but then she started talking about how flat-chested Pouts is. I think it was something like Pouts is flat-chested but Frenchie makes up for it in her ass (which is a lovely ass – very J-Lo-esque).
So Frenchie says “I think it’s time to go”. This was either before or after my mother asked if she could reverse time and have an abortion 24 years ago (that’s when I was born). Yes, my mother the comedian. All night the girls were like “hm ya ok, we get it why you get upset about her”.
I’m used to it, but it’s strange for someone else’s mother to be insulting you I would guess.
The housewarming party was good although the cops showed up twice (I had a flashback to High School) and Blondie and I decided cartwheels were fun to do down the street. I have sore arms, neck, legs and back today. Who knew cartwheels hurt so much.
Sunday was spent in the fetal position on the couch with popcorn and water. I did manage to get myself up to go to a movie at the most crowded theatre on earth. Why is it that when you look your worst you run into the people you definitely don’t want to see?
I ran into a high school girlfriend, who was all perfectly groomed and dressed. Meanwhile I’m wearing ripped jeans (from the days when that was trendy – circa 2005) and an old Guess sweater with my hair up in a messy bun. Then I ran into HottieMcDoMeNow who I know from the private club I used to work at.
I guess some things we’ll just never know.
My sisters like to make fun of people, and while I’m far too mature for that sort of thing I love listening to them. We’re driving home after spending the last few days together in a hotel room with my parents, since we’re all too cheap to spring for our own hotel room when we can mooch for free off mum and dad. So we’re driving along the highway, feeling nauseous from the (ridiculous) amount of booze we’ve all consumed the night before.
Storelady – there are a couple stories to this nickname. Firstly, when the twins were born my parents told my older sister Dizzy (nicknamed such because I couldn’t pronounce her name as a wee child) and I that we could help name them. Dizzy (being 5) thought Twinkle and Star were great names. I (being a few months shy of 4 years old) went with Shopkeeper and Storelady.
Needless to say our parents promptly had both our tubes tied and did not go with those names. However, they like to tell us the story of what the twins would have been called had we been left in charge. Also, she really does work in a store so I wasn’t too far off the mark. Psychic 3 year old? I think so.
Anyway, Storelady (SL) was doing her usual thing, peering into cars we passed and making fun of their hair, make-up, clothes, choice of music, color of seats, number of passengers, whatever she could think of really, while Shopkeeper (SK) and I giggled beside her. We passed a trucker who had pulled to the side to let us by and when mum went to wave she realized we were already way passed him so tried to nonchalantly run her hand through her hair instead. Of course we made fun of her after that for about an hour.
When we got sick of listening to each other talk we put on a movie and made fun of it for two hours. Must Love Dogs? I’m sorry but most predictable movie ever. And what was with the 15 year old guy randomly showing up at Dolly’s? I guess that’s what we get for watching a romantic comedy starring Diane Lane. At least it kept us vaguely amused.
I was reminiscing about car games and music when really I should have been thinking about how many things we can possibly make fun of. Who knew that the gas pump you chose to go to can result in a five minute tirade about your poor driving skills, how you must have grown up in a trailer and where did you get that haircut anyway? Driving like an idiot? You must have taken lessons at the ABC Dirvers Ed [sic] School for Les Incompetents.
I’m pretty sure one of these days we’ll all be struck down by lightning, spontaneously combust while walking Grandma to church or perish in a fire of epic magnitude started by a stray BBQ spark landing on the pile of stickman drawings SK and SL keep for handy reference to former victims. At least there’s never a dull moment when SL and SK are around.
My mum will be in the drivers seat because apparently dad’s driving is too erratic, although I don’t see how cutting two hours off our long-ass drive could be a bad thing. So what if we get pulled over twice? The BC cops have no jurisdiction in Alberta!
I remember when I was little, every time we got pulled over I thought my dad was going to jail. I even had a dream about it when I was in kindergarten (that’s true). My dad likes to speed, especially through the mountains. My mum apparently likes to live, therefore she is taking the wheel this time.
I haven’t been on a car trip with the family since…oh I dunno, 1999? Back then Christina Aguilera was still messing around with genies, The Verve was breaking up and Lenny was singing about American Women (or possibly just one in particular).
When I was even younger, we went on road trips as a family all the time. No one ever agreed on the music. Dad liked kind of heavy rock music, mum liked top 40 style music, my older sister Dizzy liked a mix but mostly lower key stuff and I was usually all about the girly music: Ace-of-Base all the way.
There were certain tapes we could all agree on: REM, Out of Time; Sheryl Crow, Saturday Night Lights; that sort of thing. Usually it was dad’s music though, so a steady diet of Led Zeppelin, Nine Inch Nails (who I’m actually going to go see on Tuesday, more on that later), The Doors, The Who, New Kids On The Block – oops, I actually just slipped that in his tape deck when he wasn’t looking. Step by Step! Ya!
Ok, moving right along. Actually, side-tangent again: when I was sixteen I was listening to the Backstreet Boys in my room, singing along with the beautiful, melodious and completely non-commercialized lyrics when my dad came up, turned off the stereo and said: “Here. Listen to this.” and handed me Alice Cooper. Thus began my (upward) spiral of rejecting crappy pop and embracing real music. Thanks Pops.
Ok, now moving along for real. I’m actually a little excited to play driving games such as “Find The ABCs on Random Signs in Order from A-Z”, “What Does That Guys License Plate Really Say”, “Name A Band/Place/Movie Using the Last Letter of My Word”, “I Spy”, “Categories” and my all time favorite “I Have To Pee..No, Now!” Back in the day, these games mostly resulted in time outs and tears. Don’t worry, Mum eventually got over it and joined back in on the fun.
Of course these days we have a laptop with a connector cord so we can watch movies and make fun of hilarious skits on YouTube. And by hilarious skits I do mean people falling and monkeys throwing feces, oh and that cockatoo that dances. He’s awesome. I’m not sure if the road trip will feel quite the same with all this modern technology.
Either way all I’m bringing is a pillow, The Selfish Gene and an extra large black coffee. Or possibly a venti, sugar-free, half-caf, extra hot, skim-milk, no-whip hazelnut latte. They love it when I come into Starbucks.