We went to a wedding reception on Sunday for the last of our supper club friends to get married. They eloped in September - this was just the celebration for family and friends. It was very nice, although I did note that the groom seemed a little over it. When they cut the cake, the bride gave a little speech welcoming and thanking everyone; he was silent. Now maybe he is just not one for public speaking. But it reminded me of the circumstances of the nupitals. Pardon me if you've heard this before....
They had been dating for some time when her apartment was robbed, about two years ago. Citing security fears, she moved into his place. OK, sure -- probably that would have happened eventually anyway, right? After a year or so of cohabitation, Mr. J and I were wondering if they would get married; a friend who knows her better reported that they had agreed to a deadline by which he was supposed to propose. That deadline came and went, without a proposal. (Always problematic.) Then she got pregnant. (The weirdest thing about it was her email to the supper club friends: she said, "Ladies, I have an announcement. I am joining your ranks. [Groom] and I are expecting....") Then they got engaged. Then they lost the baby (genetic defect, very sad). Then they eloped to Key West. Then, this reception.
While all of this has been unfolding between Bride and Groom, my college roommate down in Atlanta has been struggling with parallel relationship issues. Her boyfriend moved into her place two years ago, after three years of dating. They too had a deadline for getting engaged, and he let it pass. She's not very good at confrontation, and she stewed on it for ten more months. They finally broke up two weeks ago. I hate it for her, but I can't say it would be better had she followed Bride's path.
I hope Bride and Groom will be happy for many years together, but the whole thing seems so forced. Not that I feel sorry for Groom. When you live with a woman over 35 and you know Marriage and Family are part of her life plan, you need to make that happen or break up with her. If you don't step up and she skips her pills? well, I don't condone her dishonesty but I also don't condone stringing someone along, burning through the last years of her fertility because you like company and don't want to drop the hammer.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Merry Christmas From The Family: Dibbs
I made the oranges. The ones from the new cookbook that were so delish when Lally made them? They required: bringing mint and Grand Marnier from my house, getting up on Christmas morning to peel, section, and de-gross 8 oranges, and pretending to the Baptists that no alcohol was in those oranges. You know who ate them? Me. And #1 sneakily last night. I guess that's more oranges for me. I highly recommend them.
As for the Baptists....cooking an entire meal for the family is hard. You'd think they could endeavor to be on time. Nope. You'd think if they were late, they'd understand it's their own fault the pasta got sticky. Nope. You'd think they might understand that a girl could need just a scosch of Mimosa. Hell, nope.
My uncle has a new girlfriend. She chews with her mouth open. My sweet, tiny baby has a new girlfriend. She sits on his lap. Ho. (Ho. Ho.)
The unbreakable headache sent me to bed at 6:00, which, honestly, was a blessing. It's back today, but I'm not playing around. Straight Lortab, homies.
I'll see you ASAP. Anyone want to play on Saturday :)?
As for the Baptists....cooking an entire meal for the family is hard. You'd think they could endeavor to be on time. Nope. You'd think if they were late, they'd understand it's their own fault the pasta got sticky. Nope. You'd think they might understand that a girl could need just a scosch of Mimosa. Hell, nope.
My uncle has a new girlfriend. She chews with her mouth open. My sweet, tiny baby has a new girlfriend. She sits on his lap. Ho. (Ho. Ho.)
The unbreakable headache sent me to bed at 6:00, which, honestly, was a blessing. It's back today, but I'm not playing around. Straight Lortab, homies.
I'll see you ASAP. Anyone want to play on Saturday :)?
Julep: O Come, All Ye Faithful Grandparents
My mother's family has a bit of a holiday tradition, going back decades. On Christmas morning, everyone goes where the kids are. When I was a child, my sisters and I were the only grandchildren. My mom's brothers came down from Cincinnati. My great-aunt flew in from Philadelphia, as she had been doing for four decades ever since her brother and his kids moved away from Philly; before that she used to drive across town in the pre-dawn hours to get to the house before the kids woke up so she could watch them find their presents from Santa. When I was in high school, it came back to bite me, as my mom got her three teenagers out of the house and bundled in the car on Christmas morning to trek up to Cincinnati because my uncle now had kids of his own, and they were the little ones so we all had to go there for Christmas morning.
Christmas morning is a thing in my family. It's one reason my mom was so hurt when my b!tchy sister announced four years ago that she was staying home on Christmas morning and none of us were invited. But I didn't mind, because it meant that when Mr. J and I started our family, we had dibs on the grandparents (and sure enough, once she realized that her kids were getting left out, Sis decided that my mom could come over to her house after our house). For the past couple of years, we've hosted the grands -- my mom makes her special cinnamon rolls. we have coffee, eggs, sausage or bacon, maybe some fruit if we are really ambitious, and everyone chills together for a little bit to watch the kids unwrap their presents. It's low-key but it's really nice.
So I was pretty darn surprised on Christmas Eve night when Mr. Mama told me as we were all leaving Mass that she and Mr. Papa would not be coming over in the morning. "It's just too much for you now that you have two kids," she said. I said, "But my parents will be coming." She breezed right past that and headed out the door.
In the car, I asked Mr. J what he knew about this. "She told me five minutes ago," he said. "She thinks it will be nice for us to have some time with just our family in the morning." Say what now? Honey, take that load on up the road to dump it, nobody is buying it here. This isn't about us needing family time - and thanks, Mr. Mama, for making that unsolicited decision on our behalf. No, this is about Mr. Mama not being a morning person. She hates to get up and go anywhere before 11 a.m.
I said, "Well, my parents are coming," and Mr. J said, "Next year it can be just us." I said, "No, my parents will always come. It's a thing in my family." He said, "Well, but that's not equal time for the grandparents if your parents get Christmas morning too. How will that look to the kids?" Um. No. I'm not telling my mom she can't see her grandchildren on Christmas morning because his mom doesn't like to get out of bed that early. Since when did we set grandparenting by the lowest common denominator? By that measure, none of the grandparents would see our kids but once every two years, since that is as often as J-Dad can be arsed to come and visit.
I explained to Mr. J that disinviting my mom from Christmas morning would destroy generations of her family tradition. If Mr. Mama doesn't want to come, that's fine, but my mom is coming, every year. What I didn't say was, we have smart kids, I don't think they will have to wait for Christmas to figure out that Grandma puts a much higher priority on spending time with them than Mr. Mama does.
Mr. J is pretty smart too. He called his dad and lo and behold, the Mr. Grands were on hand when the Bear found his Santa presents under the tree.
Christmas morning is a thing in my family. It's one reason my mom was so hurt when my b!tchy sister announced four years ago that she was staying home on Christmas morning and none of us were invited. But I didn't mind, because it meant that when Mr. J and I started our family, we had dibs on the grandparents (and sure enough, once she realized that her kids were getting left out, Sis decided that my mom could come over to her house after our house). For the past couple of years, we've hosted the grands -- my mom makes her special cinnamon rolls. we have coffee, eggs, sausage or bacon, maybe some fruit if we are really ambitious, and everyone chills together for a little bit to watch the kids unwrap their presents. It's low-key but it's really nice.
So I was pretty darn surprised on Christmas Eve night when Mr. Mama told me as we were all leaving Mass that she and Mr. Papa would not be coming over in the morning. "It's just too much for you now that you have two kids," she said. I said, "But my parents will be coming." She breezed right past that and headed out the door.
In the car, I asked Mr. J what he knew about this. "She told me five minutes ago," he said. "She thinks it will be nice for us to have some time with just our family in the morning." Say what now? Honey, take that load on up the road to dump it, nobody is buying it here. This isn't about us needing family time - and thanks, Mr. Mama, for making that unsolicited decision on our behalf. No, this is about Mr. Mama not being a morning person. She hates to get up and go anywhere before 11 a.m.
I said, "Well, my parents are coming," and Mr. J said, "Next year it can be just us." I said, "No, my parents will always come. It's a thing in my family." He said, "Well, but that's not equal time for the grandparents if your parents get Christmas morning too. How will that look to the kids?" Um. No. I'm not telling my mom she can't see her grandchildren on Christmas morning because his mom doesn't like to get out of bed that early. Since when did we set grandparenting by the lowest common denominator? By that measure, none of the grandparents would see our kids but once every two years, since that is as often as J-Dad can be arsed to come and visit.
I explained to Mr. J that disinviting my mom from Christmas morning would destroy generations of her family tradition. If Mr. Mama doesn't want to come, that's fine, but my mom is coming, every year. What I didn't say was, we have smart kids, I don't think they will have to wait for Christmas to figure out that Grandma puts a much higher priority on spending time with them than Mr. Mama does.
Mr. J is pretty smart too. He called his dad and lo and behold, the Mr. Grands were on hand when the Bear found his Santa presents under the tree.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Twinkle: The War on Women--Christmas Edition
I am drowning in a sparkling shitstorm of Christmas magic that I created myself.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Twinkle: Breaking Cheese Torte News
It's been a few years, and I know none of us has gotten over the tragic loss of the Doll's cheese torte. But I realized something tonight: I think our city's collective love for it has clouded our creativity, because cheese tortes are by no means out of reach. I think we've all been spending too much time trying to recreate (or purchase) the cheese torte of the past, instead of looking to what lies ahead. The tortes they are a-changin'.
I made a cheese torte tonight--it was nothing like the Doll's variety, which, if you've ever looked at the recipe in Splendor, is high maintenance and time-intensive. Here's what I did: a layer of creamy bleu cheese went in first, then some chopped Medjool dates, then goat cheese, then more of the creamy bleu. I chilled it for a few hours before inverting the container (Doll's style) and topped it with fig compote before serving. It was easy; it was delicious, and it was a cheese torte.
It wasn't the Doll's cheese torte. Nothing ever will be. And I will hold the memory of that torte--especially the good times I spent with my friends while devouring it--in my heart forever. But now that I've made my own easy and delicious cheese torte, I feel like I don't have to be as sad about the Doll's torte anymore. It was empowering.
I've taken back the torte.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Julep: the introvert's lament
On Saturday, the Bear spent the day with my folks while Mr. J and I took the Pumpkin (f/k/a the Seagull - I'm trying hard to frame our relationship more positively) to the Turf Club with his family. This is part of their family's Thanksgiving tradition, and it is always a good time. Really, I had fun.
But it's a long day. After six hours at the track, I came home to try and stuff some solid food into the Pumpkin -- she prefers to drink her calories -- and had about twenty minutes of time with the Bear before heading off to a Christmas concert with J-Mama, J-Sis, and the fabulous Nanny. It was Nanny's birthday, and J-Mama had bought these tickets some time ago. They were all super excited about a girl's night out, and hey, I love Christmas music and I love Nanny. But by the time we got out of the parking garage (where we sat for over half an hour), it had been over four hours since J-Sis picked me up to start this little adventure.
Here's the thing. I really don't want to spend ten or twelve hours with anybody I am not super close to. It's draining for me. I think of myself as a sociable person, but I am not an extrovert. People like Mr. J -- and, I believe, our own Dibbsie -- are recharged by being around a crowd. I am not. A day in which I have no quiet time with my own thoughts is a long tiring day for me even when I spend it doing fun stuff.
So it got under my skin the next day when Mr. J made some crack about how he socializes by hanging out in the garage/ man cave with his buddies in the late hours of the night while I am always leaving him to watch the kids. Dude. Your friends like to drink in the garage because you can choose the channel on the TV and it's hella cheaper than drinking at bars. And spending the evening with YOUR female relations, in an outing that I could not possibly have turned down without offending your mother, should be counted in my Good Deeds column, not my Time Off column.
But it's a long day. After six hours at the track, I came home to try and stuff some solid food into the Pumpkin -- she prefers to drink her calories -- and had about twenty minutes of time with the Bear before heading off to a Christmas concert with J-Mama, J-Sis, and the fabulous Nanny. It was Nanny's birthday, and J-Mama had bought these tickets some time ago. They were all super excited about a girl's night out, and hey, I love Christmas music and I love Nanny. But by the time we got out of the parking garage (where we sat for over half an hour), it had been over four hours since J-Sis picked me up to start this little adventure.
Here's the thing. I really don't want to spend ten or twelve hours with anybody I am not super close to. It's draining for me. I think of myself as a sociable person, but I am not an extrovert. People like Mr. J -- and, I believe, our own Dibbsie -- are recharged by being around a crowd. I am not. A day in which I have no quiet time with my own thoughts is a long tiring day for me even when I spend it doing fun stuff.
So it got under my skin the next day when Mr. J made some crack about how he socializes by hanging out in the garage/ man cave with his buddies in the late hours of the night while I am always leaving him to watch the kids. Dude. Your friends like to drink in the garage because you can choose the channel on the TV and it's hella cheaper than drinking at bars. And spending the evening with YOUR female relations, in an outing that I could not possibly have turned down without offending your mother, should be counted in my Good Deeds column, not my Time Off column.
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