Mom and I spent Christmas in Hood River, Oregon at her sister's place. After a white knuckle tight drive from Camas, WA through torrential rains, a shittily paved interstate highway and both of us cursing the high heavens, the maternal unit and I arrived in one piece, and decided vino would get us back into the holiday spirit. Quite rightly. At least it turned to snow, because there's nothing lovelier than a white Christmas.
pretty sweet volvo, eh?
my twin step-cousins in the midst of the snowball fight I initiated and then immediately ducked out of cause I was in a party dress.
bursting w/enthusiasm at the millionth pic my mom had to take on Christmas morn. Yes, I am in pink reindeer pajamas. No, it is neither a onesie, nor does it have feet attached. Fun things to say to your mom while celebrating the birth of Jesus:
When my cousin Christina (redhead on the left in pic above) announced she was preggers by presenting my aunt (brunette on right in pic above) with a sonogram nested in a pillow of yarn and knitting needles so she can "prepare" for the impending arrival, I casually turned to my own mother and announced "I'm not pregnant." She smirked and replied: "Thank god."
Back home in Camas, most of my days were spent idling around the house thanks to a constant, nasty rain and nobody in town. I had nothing but my digital camera and my imagination. Or lack thereof.
hail storm. I know, but it was the most excitement I'd seen in days.I decided to entertain myself with the food network (particularly
Throwdown with Bobby Flay and
Ace of Cakes) even though I do not cook and only just bought a $5 dollar pot from Walgreens because nuking soup was becoming a touch messy for my taste. I also had the pleasure of watching my mom's two cats do wild and crazy things, leading me to believe they could be mildly retarded.
I discovered Mai Tai likes to spoon my slippers:
and claw my new cashmere sweater. note the artificial tree which my mother is contemplating carrying up to the attic as is to cut down on decorating time next year.
Oprah has an oral fixation and enjoys staring at walls.
After the thrill of animal behavior wore off (the red right eye is thanks to cat hair):
I got back to my drinking. Which I did quite well. I spent NYE on the couch with my mother watching a horrifically depressing Dick Clark attempt to work his way through the teleprompter, and when mummy realized we polished off a Cabernet Sauvignon (which she brilliantly paired with her roasted lamb, golden potatoes and gorgeous artichokes w/lemon butter) and two bottles of Veuve Clicquot that we splurged on for the big night, she presented me with a bizarre warning:
Mom: "We drank all that?"
Moi: "Yes."
Mom: "Jeez. You know you can't keep drinking when you're pregnant."
Moi: "Uh. Yes, I do. And seeing as I'm not with child I think I'm alright."
Moms are funny when intoxicated.
