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November 25, 2005
RIP Mr. Miyage...
I'm in Florida visiting my family for the holidays.
The trip started like this:
J got pulled over by a cop on the way to the airport (panic set in because we were already running late). He got a ticket for his tint being too dark. Guess that's illegal.
We had to park 90,000 miles from the terminal and I dressed as though I was going to Florida so I was freezing. The eczema was in full effect.
For some reason, even though I chose our seats to be side by side when I got the tickets online, J was in a middle seat in the aisle behind me and I was in an aisle seat ahead of him. We happened to be sandwiched between an already comfortable set of 7 or so older folks (like 70) so I was scared to ask them to manuever about. I had to just wait until they offered. They did, and we happened to be seated next to a nice old man that had insane gas the entire flight. Sulfur rocks shooting from his old butt for three hours.
Once we were seated, there was an hour delay that became a three-hour ordeal, yes ordeal, when someone found a bullet (a real live bullet) on the floor in the back of plane. We all had to get off the plane, go back through security, wait in the terminal where JetBlue offered us "low fat pizza", and then get back on the plane.
Is the trip doomed?
We finally got to Tampa, and when J pulled the camera out, he realized he didn't have the memory card or whatever it is you have to put in those big high tech digital cameras.
We're going to need that camera to take some of the most amazing pictures that I hope to put up on my new site (that is 90% done being remodeled with picture capabilities and everything!).
My dad greeted me with, "Where's your horse?" and I was confused. He pointed to my boots and repeated the question so I have been clowned first thing.
J got a new car and my mother started in with the questions, being really sweet and interested in his life, she said, "Do it hab all dee gaggets?" Meaning gadgets, I can only assume. J just nods, by the way, to come off like he knows what she's talking about.
She then took his hands and analyzed them saying, "Man with short, chubby finger, means you are work alcoholic." She then took my hands and said, "Long skinny one, lazy."
Just then Teri Hatcher disrobed on this James Bond movie we're watching and at the first sight of her butt, my dad said "Um hmm..." in delight.
We've only been here for two hours.
I'll let you know how the weekend unfolds. We're going bowling with my dad, taking my mom to see RENT and my nephew is in absolute heaven having memorized and downloaded everything my boyfriend's band has ever done. He even appeared in a rare band shirt that I sent him for his birthday. He's fascinated with him, stating, "Auntie, we even sit exactly alike, it's weird..." but he's trying to play it cool like J's just another dude to him, but I can tell. Maurice used to really be all into me and that has entirely shifted to J.
I have to get back to the Bond movie where my mother is eating tiny green fruits that look like baby limes but are the size of a marble and drinking half-sized cans of diet caffeine free Shasta, just gulping and peeling, adding all kinds of commentary to the movie. In between commercial breaks (she still watches them even though we have TiVo) she goes to the other room, the room with the fancy furniture where she watches her Filipino TV, some kind of satellite my dad got her as a gift.
No, now I really have to go. My dad just randomly said, "Ain't that sad? Mr. Miyage died, y'all..."
I'm missing it all. I'll be back soon to discuss.
P.S. I'm officially addicted to eBay. Another story, another day.
Posted by melissah at November 25, 2005 07:33 PM