We were getting anxious

Christmas is not only a time to reconnect with family, but also an opportunity to introduce your relatives to any new love interests one may have. My most favorite cousin Toast found herself in this situation this year, although the fine young gentleman did not arrive until 8:30, avoiding the majority of family. By the time they got to the house, only the most die-hard family members remained, only staying to meet the new man. Now, earlier in the day one of our aunts had remarked, "You either love us or hate us. We've scared off quite a few people." This is true; we do tend to inspire feelings on either end of the scale, not the middle.

Anyway, minutes after new boyfriend entered the house, one aunt launched into a story of how she had spent hours walking around with toilet paper hanging from her pants. And then followed that with (with a prompt from me, I will admit) an assertion that Jolly Rancher gelatin has the consistency of a baby's butt. All the while reinforcing my belief that it is best to marry the person first, THEN introduce him to the family. Divorces are expensive.

All in all, not a bad introduction to the family. Just remember Toast, at least there were no fart machines around. Just wait until the beach!

Cough, cough, cough

Christmas was much fun, and gave me a great deal of fodder for the blog, but let me start by saying that all the parents in Southern and Central New Jersey must take their kids to my cousin's street in December to prove that Santa is watching. Because the huge Santa staring down onto the unsuspecting public that sits in my relatives' window was one of the creepiest things I've seen in a long time.

Recent comments about M/

"You have a few rockstar qualities about you."
"Why do you boo the Starve?"
"LAME"
"I feel like I got run over by a big truck of fun."
"It must suck being an Eagles fan and knowing they suck more than the Redskins."
"...Sorry, I was giggling. KICKBALL?"
"Why do you need that extra " i " if you're not going to use it?"

54-13!

"What are you doing?!? He's on the team that beat us! You can't flirt with him!"
Those words were accompanied by a strong tug on my arm to get me away from the bar (I didn't know that exchanging 10 seconds of conversation could be considered "flirting") and a sharp rebuke. Let's just say that if we can't talk to people from teams that beat us, we'll be having many conversations amongst ourselves by the end of the season.

Also, varsity flipcup is hard work.

FYI

I would just like to point out, for a certain someone's information, that I do not see "dustbuster" listed on this page.

I can't wait for my letter

I was never a great athlete. So it was with great pride yesterday that I accepted a spot on a varsity team. Yes, I was named to the starting lineup of a flipcup squad. I didn't believe it at first, stepping aside to let others take their places. It wasn't until the captain asked why I wasn't joining them that it sunk in. We had a strong performance for a newly formed team, going 2-1. With some practice, I think we could be the team to beat this season. Fingers crossed.

Some realizations I've had lately

Searching has been much more fun ever since I discovered the "Elmer Fudd" language setting

Captain Kirk was better because he finds us cheap airfare and hotel rates

If someone you've just met refuses to get you a glowstick, he will eventually give in if you keep referring to him as "guy who wouldn't get me a glowstick."

McDonald's used to be racist against the Irish

My ode to silly hats will never make into our departmental newsletter (I even left room for it this quarter!)

Green apples make an excellent addition to a turkey sandwich

I am much better at trivia nights where the average age is under 35

Anyone who asks, after an hour of playing flipcup with no other drinking, "How does one know when one is drunk?" is NOT someone you want to be hanging out with later in the evening

I wish the Heat Miser were real, and that he'd save me from this damn season

Awwww

PROTEST!

Our last trivia night of the season was a success, if you judge success not by winning but by leaving the bar with large amounts of material goods. The trivia host gave us extra prizes, saying, "I like you guys the best." Who knew?!? We are an entertaining group, and the only team whose average age is under 30. And, as evidenced by the final night, we are not overly competitive assholes who argue that the answer key is wrong and make the host look stuff up on Wikipedia, only to have the key be proven right. I mean, I'm competitive, because it's fun to enjoy friendly competition, but really, who cares? You're playing for a Heineken bar set, not a million dollars, jackass.

Have you seen my socks?

Thanksgiving went on longer than intended, thanks to my cousin's husband who makes sure everyone's drink is never empty. The sign of a good bartender, yes, and one who won't mind if four of his in-laws have to crash at his house. The main highlight was when my cousin's wife told me that whenever she hears "Fat-bottomed Girls" she thinks of me. Finally! A theme song!

I went to Chadwick's in Friendship Heights on Saturday as part of a birthday bar crawl, and as we were walking up there I told my friend not to ask for free drinks, because at a 21st birthday there two years ago the bartender took some of the shots off the bill since the celebrant didn't ask for any freebies. Sure enough, as we were cashing out, the same bartender took a drink off the bill for the same reason.