It's Always Winter In Canada

My life is well situated four hours from my family. I'm one of the lucky ones. Really, I do love my family. I try to get home for the holidays just to see everyone. Well, almost everyone. You know what I mean. There’s family and then there’s those people you reluctantly call family. I like to go home to see the first group. The second group is the reason I stay away for the rest of the year. I need my space. And my sanity.
Anyhow, Thanksgiving just passed. I now have a refrigerator filled with turkey, mashed potatoes, corn, and whatever was left of our alcohol supply. When we grocery shop for Turkey day, we buy food and alcohol at an almost 1:1 ratio. It’s kind of ridiculous. We’re not alcoholics, mind you, but we know how to have a good time. And we know how to party together. We keep mental lists of who can drink what, and how much of it, before they’re going to need a bed to crash on. Or a designated driver to rant on. We’re a big family, so we can provide both. Those are the holidays for ya.
Along with the food and parties, we plan for a lot of shopping. I, for one, have to plan where to go, who to go with, and how much I can spend. I need to know where to go so I don’t waste gas on some convoluted route. How much I can spend is always a big one. I work at a bank, so I scoff at people that can’t balance a checkbook. As to who to shop with, that’s a big decision. I don’t window shop during the holidays. That kind of meandering is reserved for days off when I can take my time and listen to my ipod (By the way, current track is “Oxycodone” by Glassjaw). Holiday shopping is a well thought-out mission. I can’t go with people that get sidetracked by pretty things in the window display. If I dare set foot in a mall during Black Friday, I have a set list of stores to go to. There’s no dilly-dallying. There are maniacs out at the malls at all times, but especially during the most wonderful season of all. You gotta avoid ‘em. Or step softly and carry a big stick. Whatever works. That’s why you have to enlist loyal and obedient troops. I can be in and out of the mall in under an hour and have most of my shopping done. You have to keep up, man. Or you drive yourself home. Well, I’d come back for you eventually, I’m sure. Haha.
Another big thing about the holidays is just getting home. I have to plan what to bring, which bag am I taking, is the cat coming with me? Can I get that time off work? How am I getting there? Who’s house am I staying at? That’s always a big question. My cousins and I are really close. I consider them to be closer than my siblings sometimes. So do I do the right thing and see my parents first thing when I get home, or do I just go where I want to spend the night? I usually end up at my cousin’s place. There’s always tomorrow to see Mom and Dad. And Grandma and Grandpa. And my brother and sister. Yeah, that’s the usual order.
How to get there is always a fun game. I can spend $70 on a bus ticket. Then I know that I’ll get there anywhere from 5 to 8 hours from my departure time, if the bus doesn’t break down. I usually meet fun people, but sometimes I meet them when I just want to sleep. Or I can wrangle myself a ride from someone who’s leaving when I am. That way, I just spend around $30 to pitch in for gas. That’s the best choice. Especially if they come with good conversation and good music. That’s what worked out for me during this trip. I found a friend who went to high school near me and had an extra spot in his car. Score. So there I was, 3pm Wednesday, in a car with 3 guys heading for Minneapolis. Any girl’s dream. Hah. Not that they weren’t good guys, but I just wasn’t feeling it. Any guy that you share an OTPHJ joke with isn’t on the dating list right away. By the way, if you don’t know what an OTPHJ is, think dirty and think Wedding Crashers dinner scene with Vince Vaughn’s character. You’ll get it. Those boys soon found out how difficult it is to actually offend me. I usually find the punchline to dirty jokes before most of my guy friends. It’s become a contest now to set up good “That’s what she said” lines. It’s not that hard and it’s a bit shaky. Haha.
*New track: “Jeepster” by T. Rex
Our four-hour long conversation didn’t just include dirty jokes. We talked music, of course, and we talked ice cream. If your inner child had its way at a Coldstone or a Dairy Queen, what would your toppings be? Mine include, but are not limited to, brownies, Reese’s Pieces, Snickers pieces, and strawberry syrup. Sounds delicious, right? Yum. We also spoke of, being a car full of engineering students, creating an all-terrain vehicle to travel from one end of North America to the other. Going from Florida, through the Everglades, to Canada, where apparently it’s always winter. It was a very detailed conversation. And a very nerdy one. We decided necessary tire sizes, what type of engine, and even what type of fuel to use. I don’t care if I am a geek, that is going to be one kick-ass car. We’re going to be rich, baby.
Whoo, that‘s a long one (hah. That’s what she said). I think I’ll leave you now. G’night. Or good morning, afternoon, etc. Wherever you are. (Ending track: “Grace Kelly” by Mika) I’m out.