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Workout with Wendy

On my way to NY I discovered the traveler’s best friend – books on tape. Without knowing I had picked up an awesome book – “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon” by S. King. It is about this 9 years old girl, who looks big for her age and gets lost in the woods for 9 endless dais and nights. This book had some kick-ass funny moments like the one when she gets stuck in a swamp and there is a torn off dear’s head in front of her. That’s what she is thinking at this moment, right after she overcomes the overwhelming desire to vomit looking at the fly-buzzing necklace on the neck of the TORN OFF dear’s head.
Audio book clip [Volume ON]

The bad Imaginary friend

Steff was by herself this past week – no Dan. I suppose she was lonely in a way, why else would she talk about imaginary friends on the radio? And then her imaginary friend PATRIC called. Oh, my god what a freak!
Imaginary Friend [Volume ON]

Holidays

What is it about dreams? As Mouse had once said, “Human life = big chunks of waiting put together with little crumbs of happiness.” I guess, dreams are those little, gluey, crumbs of happiness, which hold our lives together when they become true. I had a silly dream – to celebrate New Year’s Eve in NY. I hoped and tried three consecutive years and finally gave up. I figured, I barely made it to NY without being New Year’s. But, unknown are god’s ways!!! I had mentioned it to my Friend Ricardo in mid summer and some how, and some miraculously how, he remembered!

When he invited me to celebrate with them in NY I couldn’t believe it. After all, last year, I had to self-invite myself to go celebrate with my friends in Boston and them weasels turned me down; and them weasels left me rot in wretchedness (New Years is a big deal to me, especially here on the Cape, where it falls in the beginning, miserable winter). Ricardo told me that he is invited to a party and he had to check if it would be ok to bring me along (he didn’t sound assuring at all, it sounded like I needed an invitation to some big-ass-Hollywood party). With no surprise, hopes sunk down. However, few days later I was on the list for “THE PARTY”.

In the mean time a bigger event was boiling in my, always, overfilled pot. I was juggling between unbearably busy job, school finals (last due on Dec 23rd), gifts buying and wrapping, and last but not least preparations for Christmas Eve dinner in my house. After handing in an endless research paper for my literature class and a glorious but exhausting final in accounting I was yet to write another paper - my take-home final exam for literature class. We had 7 topics to chose from and write 4 essays. One would thing, “Sweet, a take home final,” but not me, not in a literature class with the goddess of literature, the ever fair but strict Laurel Kornhiser. I busted my ass four endless nights till 1:30- 2:00 am and at the last lines of the last essay I, dead serious, felt like vomiting from lack of sleep and effort.

Next day (Dec 23rd), I had to do grocery shopping, finish up gift-wrapping and cook for next day. It didn’t go as well as planed. Thank god Didi helped me shopping but given the headache and the dizziness it was a day of anxiety and struggle. I even laid down, in the afternoon, for half-hour in prevention of a faint. Got up sill dizzy though. I stared cooking around 6pm and Joan helped me wrap the stuffed cabbage leafs; we drank wine yapped the whole time, took smoking breaks… we had fun. I cooked till 1:00am and felt like vomiting out of exhaustion again – NOT SO GOOD!!!

The following day, work again (damned work), everything has become so out of control since I went to work at Mashpee branch. I’m starting to think that the Mashpee Stop and Shop is build on either hell mouth, like Sunnydale, or most likely on top of an ancient Native Americans’ cemetery. I don’t know what it is but it ain’t a normal place – it’s like a haunted house that makes people crazy and obnoxious. Working for a “big corporation” – meaning blood suckers – although a bank we had to work till 4:00pm on Christmas Eve. I guess that’s part of the qualifications for being “Not Your Typical Bank!” Ha-ha, How funny! After couple of hours of hectic final preparations, with the kind help of Joan and Dennis the table was set and dear friends were gathered around. The entire struggle was utterly worth it. It was magical. Delicious food, wine, Christmas music, the warmth of the fireplace…

Christmas day was exciting too. Dennis and I went over his sister’s house. It was nice to experience the family dynamics – the love of his mom, the Christmas mood and the warmth of everybody.

Few day earlier, Dan and Steff were talking on the radio about the horrible things to get for Christmas. Somehow the subject shifted toward the horrible last-minute-CVS gift shopping. I called in and told them a hilarious thing that Didi had told me the day before, something she had heard from a customer of hers. [Zad vratata, u antreto, na Kuna u setreto, u prestil4eto, u jeb4eto e klu4eto (a comment for Bulgarians only)]. It was the genius idea of going to Christmas Tree Shop and buying a box of cheep candles that you put in the trunk of your car. So, When you see a friend or a relative you say “oh, I wasn’t able to see you for Christmas, but hang on, I have your gift in my car…

Dennis and I stopped by the nearby CVS, on the way to his sister’s, to by some gifts for the kids. How ironic, ha? Of course I bought a candle for Steff. After the visit at Dennis’ sister we dropped by Steff and Cliff. It was busy as always; people coming and leaving… they had started at 7:00am. I haven’t told them that I’ll stop by, so they were surprised and happy to see us. The big excitement, however, burst out when I told Steff that we have stopped by only to wish them Merry Christmas and that I have her gift in my car. We laughed like crazy when I showed back with the candle. Steff was laughing and almost through tears told me that it’s not fair that I’m first, and that she had the candle all wrapped up and ready for me. Funnily enough the candle story didn’t end here. I got a voice mail on my phone from Steff, later on in the day, actually a drunken poem:

You didn’t take your candle.
I got the candle in a bag,
And you didn’t take this candle.

I gave you that candle,
Because it is a Christmas candle,
And you left it here.

You can see it tomorrow,
Call me I’m retarded!

Happily carried by the poem I went to another friend’s house for more Christmas experiences. At Clay’s we had a lot of drinks and I think that he came up with the best New-year’s resolution – he announced that he is becoming versatile (what a scandalous resolution, isn’t it!).
That semi wraps up the commotion around Christmas and leads us in the story of New Years.