[Still not part of the Schmoop Saga. Please be patient.]
Some of you know my boyfriend, and if you do, you already know about his crazy passionate love for the Waffle House.
I can understand it, sort of. I have been attached to certain diners myself. I still cherish fond memories of Louie’s Cafe in Baton Rouge, for example, although I don’t have any desire to go back there and see the place again. Some places are better remembered than re-experienced. I can say that I like ordering breakfast from dingy little diners, but I would really rather have some good biscuits and honey, or hash browns, or some non-greasy egg-based breakfast while playing Tom Waits’ “Night Hawks at the Diner” in my head.
Category: family stories
if the word fits …
[Note: This story is unrelated to the Schmoop Saga that I’ve been writing lately. I’ll finish it soon. No, really I will.]
My sister sounded unusually cranky on the phone. That’s not true. It sounded usually cranky. She does not often call with peppy news.
“We can’t call Denise [her three-year-old daughter] a drama queen anymore,” she told me.
“Why not?”
“She got in trouble at school today. She called her teacher a drama queen.”
the Christmas trip, part two
I started writing this entry the other day, and in rereading it, I have to wonder why I have been in such a negative, pissy-ass mood all week. I mean, I did not have a rotten time in the Greater New Orleans area (I did not actually set foot in Orleans Parish during the visit, unless the airport counts). I missed my boyfriend, I had a nasty cold, and I was bummed about having too many Family Duty activities and not enough time alone or with friends.
Well, let’s face it, some of that was my own damn fault.
the Christmas trip, part one
Overall, I have to say this was pretty much a bleah Christmas for me and even for my immediate family. It wasn’t bad, no one had anything awful happen to them, no one got pissed at anyone else, but no one seemed particularly embued with festive holiday spirit.
a holiday lesson
Good morning, class. Today’s lesson for The Holiday Season is “Why you shouldn’t give monetary gifts.” Pay attention, there may be a quiz.
Year after year, Miss Manners and other etiquette mavens tell us that monetary gifts are impolite, and yet no one listens. The gift givers like to write checks or tuck a little cash in an envelope because it is easy and after all, who doesn’t want money as a gift? The recipients prefer money because they are tired of getting useless crap that takes up space and that they don’t feel they can throw away because what if the giver finds out? So a lot of people agree that money is the best gift for weddings and birthdays and Christmas.
Monday nights
I’m bored and restless and tired of working around the house, and my boyfriend is at his apartment packing and cleaning. I keep wanting to call my sister, but I can’t because it’s Monday night.
comparative Thanksgivings
“Next year, we’re all coming to Austin for Thanksgiving,” my mom told me over the phone, half-jokingly, and that was as close as she would get to revealing that she had been very unhappy about their Thanksgiving plans this year. I just laughed along with her, as if it were a joke. I hadn’t told her, and wouldn’t, that this year I had one of the best Thanksgiving days ever, ever, ever.