To clarify my last post: everybody is fine! My great aunt went to the hospital but she’s 89 and that kind of thing happens every so often when you’re 89. She’s good now! That wasn’t a veiled reference to my brother drinking a hundred 4lokos and having his stomach pumped (though the reality is almost more far-fetched than that scenario – hi Will!)
Now, on to a post about my birthday! My birthday is the week before Christmas. I’m not going to complain about it because you know already. Combined birthday and Christmas presents, etc. I never really noticed that it was a problem as a kid because it wasn’t like now when everybody has a million Christmas parties to go to the week before Christmas and it’s snowing and we all have lots of baking and present wrapping and shopping to do so nobody can come to my party :(. Anyway, that sort of thing happened a couple years in a row and I decided I’m not having parties for my birthday anymore. First of all, it’s getting to feel a little tacky, throwing myself a party. Come to my house and celebrate me! I’ll be wearing a dress that makes me feel skinny! Please shower me with presents and praise! No thanks. This year I told Billy that all I wanted to do was go to Western Massachusetts and stay in a bed and breakfast for the weekend. And that’s what we did. And it was lovely. Before we left Billy made me egg-in-the-poodle and egg-in-the-Connecticut:
Then we took off for Western Massachusetts, which, if you haven’t been there, is incredible. It’s the wilderness, it’s really beautiful, everybody’s really liberal, there is great food. It would be heaven on earth if there was more public transportation.
One day, while we were there, we had some time to kill so we got some lattes, popped in an Indigo Girls CD (hold your judgment) and drove through the Berkshires. It was magical for the aforementioned reasons (lattes + Indigo Girls) but then we came upon the best town ever:
Kid: Where are you from, dorm-mate?
Lazzaro Kid: Massachusetts.
Kid: Cool, what part?
Lazzaro Kid: Florida.
Lazzaro Kid: Florida, Massachusetts.
Kid: …wait… huh?
Lazzaro Kid: YOU HEARD ME.
Kid: I —
Lazzaro Kid: FLORIDA, MASSACHUSETTS MOTHERFUCKER.
Lazzaro Kid: Did I stutter?
Kid: Hey that’s… that’s cool.
Lazzaro Kid: I have a lot of hometown pride.
That dialogue took a harsh turn. The point is this: it was so confusing and funny to me that a town would be called Florida. Especially a town as snowy as Florida, Massachusetts.
Then we had yet more time to kill so we went candlepin bowling! Guys. Remember what I said about ice skating – about how it’s really fun? So is bowling! Let’s go sometime!