Eastermania 2008

My friend just opened what promises to be a fantabulous beauty salon, which, squee! What could be better than combining people I love and products I love? She had her opening party Thursday night, and I left with a bubblegum nail color that can only be called HI I’M PINK. (Cool for the toes, which in my opinion can never be too girly, but I consulted with Kate about how to rock it on my fingernails as a fun springy kinda thing and not an 80s Staten Island kinda thing.) The salon is in the town I grew up in, so my parents were also there, and randomly enough so was my middle school Spanish teacher, with whom I discussed the fact that, thanks to her, should I ever have to use the bathroom in a Spanish-speaking country, I’m much more likely to request permission to use it rather than simply ask where it is.

At one point I was introduced to a woman who asked if I was still in college. “Oh, ha, no.” Then she said, “Oh, high school?”

Uh. I couldn’t even react, I just said, “Um, I’m thirty.” I tried to take it as a compliment, but it was probably more of a chemical imbalance on her part. I may not look decrepit but I don’t look seventeen, fortheloveofgod.

I was at a Celtics game a few weeks ago and someone there asked if I was in college, but at least then I was in jeans and a ponytail and texting. But now, coupled with the reaction of some random woman who apparently thought I was a TEENAGER, I’m overthinking it and wondering if I’m projecting some kind of absurdly juvenile version of myself, although I was standing there drinking chardonnay and chatting with my parents (in work clothes, even!), not pondering prom dresses while updating my MySpace page.

I know, it’s better than someone two years younger than me grabbing my arm in an attempt to help the nice old lady cross the street, but honestly, it kind of just contributes to me sometimes feeling like I’ve missed the train to adulthood, which is really a whole separate issue that I will now brush off and dance nervously around as I get back to crap that doesn’t really matter.

So, Easter! I’m not religious, but we loosely celebrate the Christian holidays in my family, by which of course I mean EASTER BASKETS, holla! What’s better than Easter candy? The correct answer is nothing. I actually don’t know what I’d do if Mini Eggs were available year round. I’d probably just surrender my waist and blood sugar and enjoy my delicious, delicious demise.

This year my parents are in Pennsylvania visiting my grandmother. I didn’t go because I didn’t want to they’re staying until Tuesday and I have to work. My aunt and uncle and favorite (and undoubtedly hungover) cousin are there too, and it would actually be nice to see my family, but meeting up with them there would mean driving sixteen hours over the course of the weekend, and just… no.

My mom is a recovering Catholic, so she reacted to the idea of not spending Easter with me as though I was a toddler that she was leaving on the side of 128. I would have been fine with no Easter plans, but when my godmother heard of my apparent orphan status she immediately invited me to join her family, which is how I ended up showing up at her house for dinner at 2 PM with an Easter lily and tiramisu. My godmother was keeping me close by and I quickly realized why: her house was filled with freaks. A 45-year-old friend of the family sat slack-jawed in the kitchen for awhile, looking at nothing. My godmother’s daughter’s boyfriend’s brother (got that?) came, and she warned me beforehand that “he hasn’t been taking his medication, so I’m not sure what to expect.” Uh, what? Homeboy ended up having zero personality, a staring problem, and periodically emitted what can only be described as very quiet but VERY DISTURBING guttural moans. Somebody’s giant dog made me spill my wine. There’s nothing like someone else’s freaky scene to make you miss your OWN freaky scene, i.e. your own family. Next time make room in the caravan ’cause I’m coming to Pennsylvania, guys!

After I left Crazy Planet I went to Dorie’s. I made Easter baskets for the kids, which was so. much. fun. For the ten-year-old girl, I got the movie and soundtrack to Enchanted and some chicken soup for the girly girl soul book that she wanted, and for the eight-year-old boy, the movie Cars, the new Jack Johnson CD (for a second grader he has surprisingly groovy surfboy taste in music), a mini version of Guitar Hero, and then chocolate bunnies and glow-in-the-dark silly putty for both.

That’s right, glow-in-the-dark motherfucking silly putty. Jealous?


10 Responses to “Eastermania 2008”

  1. 1 Kate March 24, 2008 at 8:44 am

    Better that people still think you’re a teenager than being poor, poor me. I asked my 18-year-old cousin if so and so was “our age” or older (middle ageish). He scoffed and goes “Our age? I’m 18. We’re not the same age.” You know what, dude? I’m on Facebook. FACEBOOK!

  2. 2 Allie March 24, 2008 at 9:31 am

    If it’s any consolation, I feel like I ‘missed the train to adulthood’ too. I keep waiting to feel like a grownup and I just don’t (at 31).

  3. 4 -R- March 24, 2008 at 10:32 am

    I am jealous. Silly putty is pretty cool.

  4. 5 courtney March 24, 2008 at 10:40 am

    When I was in college, some woman asked me once how many YEARS it would be until I STARTED high school. Maybe I didn’t look like I was in my early 20s, but early teens?!? Some people have no ability to judge age, compounded with the lack of social skills to just not ask.

  5. 6 stefanie March 24, 2008 at 8:49 pm

    At least there was wine at your Easter feast of freaks. Everything’s better with wine, isn’t it?

  6. 7 Greg March 24, 2008 at 8:51 pm

    “Gutteral moans” is the new “idle chit-chat.”

    (Sorry for the lack of comments. I’ve been in strict ‘lurker’ status the last few months. My friend Craig, who also lurks here, put together his own music blog: http://musicwithstrangers.blogspot.com. Working on a new mixtape the next few weeks… wait by your mailbox!)

  7. 8 Hillz March 26, 2008 at 7:13 am

    I’m going to put something in your mailbox too, sexxxy lady

  8. 9 dont call me maam March 26, 2008 at 2:02 pm

    My Easter weakness is Russell Stover’s pectin jelly beans. OMG. So delish! But I would gladly trade them for some silly putty.

    Our family’s Easter was also on Crazy Planet. Actually, I think all our family holidays are on Crazy Planet. Maybe I could come to PA with you next time???

  9. 10 Red March 27, 2008 at 9:12 pm

    Kate, ha, kids today!

    Allie, glad I’m not alone.

    Dutchess and -R-, no worries, I can hook you guys up with the ‘putty.

    Courtney, I know, really!

    Stefanie, YES. Yes, it is.

    Greg, HI! Yay!

    Hillz, you better, mama.

    DCMM, there’s room in the backseat for you, baby!

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