Happy Holidays and Shit

So what was Thanksgiving like at my house about a billion weeks ago? Well. I'm sure you were wondering.

I got up at 1:00pm. I didn't have to shower or go anywhere, a definite plus to not having extended family that my parents truly can stand enough for dinner and thus dinner consists of the five of us in the dining room. We only have one dining room, because we live in a old suburb built after the war and back then no one needed unnecessary rooms. My bro comes over a half hour late. He says it's because he didn't know what time he was supposed to arrive. I think it's because he didn't want to wait around for dinner and get sucked into fixing my dad's computer (that was afterwards, poor bastard). We sit around the table, sip Mountain Dew and make fun of each other. My mom will later tell me thanks for not using obscenities at the dinner table. Then I go upstairs in my room to watch movies while my siblings make fun of me for every reason imaginable. My dad watches football and then tunes into a special with the Jonas Brothers. I don't know if he knew who they really were but he definitely turned up the volume and bobbed his head like the fucking Beatles were on. Mom made pumpkin pie and carrot cake, the two nastiest desserts ever. I ate neither and had another Dew instead. After my sugar crash of consuming a six pack of Mountain Dew, I take a quick nap, then get up and watch more movies. Happy holidays. Can't wait for Christmas.

Speaking of which, my dad ruined Christmas today. Well, he didn't ruin it, persay. He told me that my parents are driving out to Somerset to get a 100 dollar gift card to North Face for my jacket. It's not exactly a hop, skip and jump away, so I'm like 'Hey while you're out there...BUY THE FUCKING JACKET.' Apparently my mom doesn't think I deserve it or have earned it. (I wish there was an explanation on that...but there's not. Don't deserve it? Like I'm nine years old and don't deserve to have dessert with dinner kind of thing? How petty, but again, that's my mom.)

My dad's like 'Don't tell your mom, but I'll give you another 50 dollars for your coat. I think you should have it.' Bangs hears 'Don't tell Mom' is like 'WHAAAAT. WHAT ARE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT?' 'Nothing.' 'I WANT TO KNOW!'

Side note: It doesn't matter what time of day, where she is or who she's talking to; Bangs talks in all caps all the time. One of my sisters works at her high school as an assistant coach and heard Bangs scream across a sea of people after someone "EMILY!!!!!!!" The girl did not look thrilled at all. Neither would I. People who aren't her friends know her as "That loud, annoying blonde in the class of '10" and she doesn't even know it. I also had Myspace on my recent history. She's been using my computer to check her messages which just makes me want to put a real lock on it. Deadbolt and all...ugh I wish her profile wasn't private. It's the highlight of my week looking at it. And I know you would love it too. It would bring you to TEARS.

My dad and I walk away. He's the best. Granted he wants me to quit college and be a mailman, at least he has a heart. He's terribly misunderstood by my mom and sister. They think he's just a grumpy old bastard when, really, he's got best interests at heart. Bangs and Mom are gossip queens. It's like living in a house of Mean Girls and Tim Meadows. My dad did NOT leave the south side for this!

Why does my groin hurt? Jesus, it's like I fucking ran five miles without stretching.

Tomorrow I'm wearing one of my mom's Christmas sweaters. Her infamous sweaters. They take ugly Christmas sweaters to a new level, but they're my moms and I'm used to it. I should wear White Diamonds perfume to go along with it. That's her smell, all right.

Coaching is amazing. My team said 'Bad News Bears' at half time and I almost hugged them.