surviving the holidaze...

i had every plan to post an entry every day. ok, well at least 3 times a week, but i got caught up in the holidaze. let me tell you, sometimes, ignorance is bliss. i know all about seasonal depression or not even to get that deep, dreading all that family time; sidestepping tourists on the train; dodging pushy old ladies tryna get that latest new fill-in-the-blank on sale; or lamenting how the holiday break used to seem like a month of fun instead of a few days of cramming work in between crazed shopping.

so, knowing all of that, i tried to deal, tried to cope with it in my own way. since my son was going to be with his dad for christmas, i had planned to lay up with my bf and hibernate until the NYE festivities. but no. life doesn't work that way. so i had to run out and get some last minute gifts so i wouldn't show up empty-handed to the family dinner and be talked about all night through to the next family function. then i had to rush home and start preparing my dish for the dinner. now, those of you who really know me, know i get down with my mac-n-cheese (bet you thought that i'd link my recipe - hahaha sucka! lmao). but i was so not in the mood so unless someone else in my family got that glow, there'd be no mac-n-cheese for dinner. instead, i opted to try something quick and easy - sweet potato casserole.

after one missed train, a quick LIRR trip from Nostrand Ave. out to Queens Village and then a 5 minute cab ride across the county line to my aunt's house, i figured i'd have some time to sit back. wrong!, wrong! i have to admit, it was mostly my doing. after all, i am the accommodator so i jumped into character. "smiles, everyone, smiles". overall, dinner went really well. i wish i could say that everyone was on their best behavior but then, it wouldn't have been my family and it wouldn't have been funny. man listen, everyone was in rare form - jokes galore. there was talk of bambu paper, strawberry daiquiri bartles & james and falling down stairs. peaches didn't threaten to punch anyone in the throat but she did yoke up one of the twins (talk and tackle/mutt & jeff). damage loudly confirmed "H.I. McDunnough, you ARE the baby's father!" and talk struck his power pose in every picture. (the twins, forever known as talk and tackle, are now 6). this may sound horribly low-class and niggery (from my personal dictionary, and self-explanatory) but the fact that my family has finally balanced being bourgie and ghetto makes the whole scene funny. i love my family, god knows i do, but some times, even when they're funny, i gotta love them from a distance...i couldn't wait to get back to my bed in brooklyn.

well, there's still some time before the NYE fesivities and until then, I will sip on my coquito (thanks dizzle) and continue to survive the holidaze.

2008, i'm ready for you!