Monday, January 26, 2009

Grandma's Gifts...

So, my mother is talking to me about my Grandmother again. Or more accurately, talking about my Grandmother when I'm around. Which is the same thing, in this case. Grandma is upset, my older sister took gifts from my younger sister, and my younger sister gave them willingly. I understand her issue, but at the same time, it's a very silly grudge to have. Especially for my Grandmother...

Grandma, or Grandmommy as my cousins and I grew up calling her, is what I have termed a "thriftaholic." She shops for deals, at garage sales and thrift stores, if it's cheap, shes interested. My Grandmother personally kept the Salvation Army open for business from the mid-eighties until the late nineties.

But it worked for her, a little too well actually. When I was five years old, I would sit down on her multi-colored carpet in front of the Christmas tree, next to one of my cousins, and open a box bigger than I was filled to the brim with toys. We would spend the rest of the evening digging through our presents, trying to catalog what we got. But those boxes were-and are- like Marry Poppin's purse, seemingly bottomless. By the time I actually got to the last toy in the package, it was Christmas all over again. It's a beautiful system in that regard.

I have a theory, that somewhere in her house, is a secret room with about twenty or so cubbies, our families names written over each one. They are probably filled to boiling with random toys, books and gadgets. Each year, around November, I imagine she goes down those stairs with as many boxes as she feels she needs, and just reaches in and pulls out whatever it takes to fill each one.

Everyone likes getting gifts, and the more the merrier-but Grandmommy goes overboard. She finds so many deals, so many toys that she just knows one of us has to have, a camera here or a statuette there, and she has to buy them. And she can't simply stop finding them-much to my Grandfathers chagrin, it's her calling.

So now, 22, and I'm still getting massive boxes of gifts-the kicker is, she's in a thrift cycle. She buys more than each kid needs in a year, so she buys in advance for years to come. But she doesn't stop buying. In otherwords, she buys half again what she actually gives us. So what happens? Run-on happens. I get gifts in 1994 that I was supposed to get in '93, and so on. So here we are, adults in our twenties, getting boxes full of action figures, Mr. Potatoe Head and friends-with a few priceless gems mixed in. When I was twenty, I got my older cousins gift. A ceramic vas, printed with roses and a ceramic rose. There were recipe books for women being in shape-and a small sweatshirt. Grandma' claimed she didn't mix it up. I still have the vas, the rose was just too much.

But hey, no complaints here. Every Christmas for 22 years I get a big box of some of the coolest gifts you can believe. And now as always, you might be surprised what priceless item you find in a sale, the diamond in the rough as it were. Grandmommy's boxes are always a joy to open, because you literally never know what you'll find. A recipe book about only PB&J, why not? A ceramic rose? Sure. Every year Grandmommy's boxes serve as a reminder, firstly that my Grandmother is still alive, still bringing happiness to our family, and secondly that there is no such thing as a bad gift, its in the act of giving that really counts-to be overly cliche and under-sentimental.

I hope my Grandmother keeps bargain shopping for the rest of her life, it's good to know someone's out there, thinking about me. Even if all the shopping does drive my Grandfather crazy.

If it sounds sappy-well, I can live with that, I get more gifts than you do.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

A simple head's up...

If you are interested in actually following my blog, please do, sign up, however that is done. I have no idea how many people actually read. This site does not track visitors. So throw down as a follower.
Bam bam, done.

Cliche Party

Ready for a cliche?
Well heads up.
Incoming.

I don't understand women. Not at all. I just don't get them.
What does too nice mean? Really? Can someone tell me? Clue me in. Leave a post if you have an idea.
That's not something you ever hear a guy say about a girl.
"Hey man, whatever happened to Jackie, she was hot."
"Yeah, dude, about her...man she was just too damn nice."
No. It doesn't happen. Sure, you see guys abuse nice girls, generally treat them like dirt, but we do not push something away because its just too amazing.
Second, what is so difficult about communicating-when it's needed and or wanted, when it's asked for? When a guy wants silence, or just to be left alone, he can't get away from her voice. Oh no, she has something to say then. Lots to say. She wants to talk about her needs. About what she wants. About what he never delivers or should deliver or isn't capable of delivering. Lots of delivering and giving and such. But ask a girl in the bedroom what she wants, and suddenly it's like trying to pull open a two-ton clam shell with your bare hands. It's not happening, so just give up.
Ask your girlfriend about what she wants for Christmas, or her birthday. You might get a general idea, but screw her telling you anything that will actually help. No, you have to con her into going shopping with you, then talk her out of buying something so you can swing by later and pick it up, praying all the while that she isn't doing the exact same thing.
Or maybe you're in a fight, and you're just too damn stupid to know what about, or what you did wrong. Sometimes, we just don't know-we can't, because we use logic, and logic is stupid. But don't bother asking her what's wrong, because she knows you already know, and if you don't know, well you should-and she's certainly not telling. You'll just have to suffer for the rest of the week, pine away on the bench because the coach isn't putting you in.
Don't argue, but don't be patronizing, know everything about her intuitively, but treat her like she is a mystery to be unraveled.
Treat her like a person, but let her know you think shes a goddess-or at the very least a princess.
Women are nothing but walking conundrums wrapped in an attractive coating. They are the Venus Flytrap of the human world. And they enjoy every moment of it.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Unlimited Newness...

So, I'm new to the community, if such it can be called, in fact, I'm new to blogging in general. It seems like today, I'm new to a lot of things. I got unlimited texting, and have since realized, why I didn't have it before. My fingers hurt, my numbers are already showing wear and tear, and, oh yeah, everyone I know is spamming me now. I never get four hundred phone calls in one night, people still hate talking. Something about non verbal communication is just too easy.

But it's also too impersonal. You lose something in the translation, and while, it could probably be said that I'm missing things due to my relative newness to the conversation type, I've been in internet chat rooms and on AIM for years, and it seems the same. You can't just be sarcastic, or funny, you have to explain it. I've had more 1 word texts than actual lines of conversation.
'What?' 'Huh?' This is why I avoided texting for so long. But don't tell todays average girl you don't have texting. You might not get the date off that alone. God forbid if you're ugly and lacking charm.

So what is it about texting that makes people go nuts over it? Why am I having trouble writing this blog because some girl is determined to get to over 200 texts sent from her alone, tonight? Why did the 'Gym Class Heros' write a song about it? Is it the ease, or is it the sense of anonymity? The ability to spell check and filter everything you say before hitting send. It's too planned, everything is forced and planned and that seems contrary to what the act of conversation is about in the first place.

On the other hand, I like that this girl is trying to set a record tonight. Because maybe, she'll still be talking to me tomorrow.