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Light headed...
Apr. 11th, 2003 09:11 pm...from the Lysol fumes...Jeez family...
Just sitting here listening to the wonderful sounds of Dave Brubeck and the delightful sound of my mother's and grandmother's over the top laughter. It's as beautiful sound that fills me with joy and happiness.
A couple of you out there have met my family, and there's many more of you that have heard the many tales of Grandma and Mommy. Most of them are outrageous, and not too typical. The ones that I don't tell enough are the simple ones--the ones about laughter.
When my family laughs, it's not just a chortle, or a chuckle. No, it's a full face, full voice, full body--full soul--release. We cry. We convulse. We giggle at complete volume. We hurt, we cough, we fart and sometimes (in my grandmother's case) we piddle.
And all of the antics get us t'laughing some more. It's quite a show. Sometimes it's better than what we're watching, or doing, or listening to. Sometimes it makes it just enhances.
We never seem to have enough laughter in this house anymore, but then I guess there are fewer and fewer things to laugh about in this day and age. But we do still laugh. Those moments just become funnier, and far more precious.
Though I might seem to paint it as dour around here, it's not really so. We laugh at the drop of a hat. Or the shake of a butt. Or an ill timed curse word from my grandmother. Or my mother's unending quest to pin me down and tickle me (I'm freaking nearly 30, and she can still fucking pin me down and tickle me until I can't breathe. The Hell? I swear, one day she caught me off guard and kept it up until I couldn't breath. I nearly passed out. Damn sure I hyperventilated...) until I wet myself, or grandma laughs her teeth out (which she does enough on her own, thank you very much). She hasn't suceeded. Thank all that's holy.
Did I mention that we love to laugh?
----
----
Moving Bri Bri again tomorrow, as he *finally* gets to go into his new place. God help the world. Boy is getting married, and I'm feeling old, and lonely...and now there is this strange urge to not stay at home as I planned, but to go out, flirt like a maniac, and work on getting shot down by the girliage.
Ah, the shoot down. How I have come to know thee, respect thee, and cherish thee. Though the flirt where I don't screw it up (someone remind me to talk about self-sabotage sometime...) is much better.
Hmmm...there is still time to get ready...and to get a little bit of party and then get sleep and then go out...Hmmmm...
Stay tuned true-believers...you'll find out if our hero Should Have Stayed, or Should have gone, in the next installment of
Just sitting here listening to the wonderful sounds of Dave Brubeck and the delightful sound of my mother's and grandmother's over the top laughter. It's as beautiful sound that fills me with joy and happiness.
A couple of you out there have met my family, and there's many more of you that have heard the many tales of Grandma and Mommy. Most of them are outrageous, and not too typical. The ones that I don't tell enough are the simple ones--the ones about laughter.
When my family laughs, it's not just a chortle, or a chuckle. No, it's a full face, full voice, full body--full soul--release. We cry. We convulse. We giggle at complete volume. We hurt, we cough, we fart and sometimes (in my grandmother's case) we piddle.
And all of the antics get us t'laughing some more. It's quite a show. Sometimes it's better than what we're watching, or doing, or listening to. Sometimes it makes it just enhances.
We never seem to have enough laughter in this house anymore, but then I guess there are fewer and fewer things to laugh about in this day and age. But we do still laugh. Those moments just become funnier, and far more precious.
Though I might seem to paint it as dour around here, it's not really so. We laugh at the drop of a hat. Or the shake of a butt. Or an ill timed curse word from my grandmother. Or my mother's unending quest to pin me down and tickle me (I'm freaking nearly 30, and she can still fucking pin me down and tickle me until I can't breathe. The Hell? I swear, one day she caught me off guard and kept it up until I couldn't breath. I nearly passed out. Damn sure I hyperventilated...) until I wet myself, or grandma laughs her teeth out (which she does enough on her own, thank you very much). She hasn't suceeded. Thank all that's holy.
Did I mention that we love to laugh?
----
----
Moving Bri Bri again tomorrow, as he *finally* gets to go into his new place. God help the world. Boy is getting married, and I'm feeling old, and lonely...and now there is this strange urge to not stay at home as I planned, but to go out, flirt like a maniac, and work on getting shot down by the girliage.
Ah, the shoot down. How I have come to know thee, respect thee, and cherish thee. Though the flirt where I don't screw it up (someone remind me to talk about self-sabotage sometime...) is much better.
Hmmm...there is still time to get ready...and to get a little bit of party and then get sleep and then go out...Hmmmm...
Stay tuned true-believers...you'll find out if our hero Should Have Stayed, or Should have gone, in the next installment of
