And Scene......

And this people......this.....is the essence of how hilarious my family is.

Posted this morning, by Tam:

Anonymous said...

You know what is great about those particular Aunt suggestions? Thinking about other things that could have been suggested in the same context and seemed as reasonable. Par example:
Aunt: "Oh, Jane, you know what your Mam needs to do?"
Jane: ""What? Donate some of the flowers?"
A: "No, BURN DOWN HER HOUSE FOR THE INSURANCE MONEY. I am going to go and tell her that."
Or
"No, DEDICATE HER LIFE TO GETTING ON THE PRICE IS RIGHT. I am going to go and tell her that."
Or
"No, GET A TATTOO OF JERRY'S FACE ON HER OWN FACE SO SHE SEES HIM EVERY TIME SHE LOOKS IN THE MIRROR. I am going to go and tell her that."
Or
"No, LEARN TO DRIVE A STICK SHIFT. I am going to go and tell her that."
Or
"No, TAKE PITBULLS INTO NURSING HOMES I am going to go and tell her that."

- Dear Sweet Brother

Slow clap, Tam. Slow clap.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Funeral

So, it is no secret that my family is full of characters. We are pretty much divided into two categories: those who have a sense of humor and those who don't.

Now, you may be thinking that the line is pretty clear. Not really. See, of course the ones with the astounding sense of humor are clearly hilarious. But, those who are lacking in the sarcasm department know we are funny, but laugh with the blank look in their eyes that says they know they should be laughing, but really aren't sure what part they are laughing at. Which kinda makes it funnier. Especially when we start to point it in their direction and they are a couple steps behind the joke. Good times.

So I have this aunt, one of my mam's sisters....the eldest. Man, she is a riot. And not the "ha, ha" kind. She is teeny and grey-haired and is very, very long winded. She used to travel from Chicago to visit and bring her cat. Besides the fact that my dear, sweet brother is allergic to cats (like, kinda bad), this cat hid under his bed and by the end of the trip we were all pretty much convinced that Chessy was the anti-Christ coming to kill us all and drag us to hell....right after my Aunt's smoke break.

Naturally, as the years have passed she has gotten crazier...and I mean that nicely? While driving, she is afraid to make left turns, so she won't...she will only turn right. Makes sense. It could be that she has just aged a smite bit, or her favorite cocktail she once accidentally made in the 80's, and never switched from, and the effects are starting to be seen. That would be her Vodka-Vodka. Now, now, I am not judging. Remembering the mixer is hard. We have all been there.

Once she was contacted via a World War II chat room by someone who doing a book report and wanted a personal account of her experience during the war. I can really see how she helped this young boy with her perspective, and the effect the war had on her, and how it made his project a complete success. She was 4 years old at the time of the war after all. Just to clarify, as someone who has also been 4 years old, that is a real pivotal time.....going from two naps down to one.....the social stigmas a young girl had in the 1940's playing in her shirt dresses and little leather Mary Jane's. Tough, tough stuff.

Anyway, so we are at my parent's house after my dad's service and it is packed. People shoulder to shoulder eating and talking, and of course laughing. So many flowers you had to be careful not to trip over them since we ran out of space on the shelves, counters and tables around the house.

So, I am talking with this old neighbor who I haven't spoken to in literally 15 years or so, and my Aunt sitting next to me. The couch is small and the conversation leads itself between all of us. However, in the middle of talking about this or that, my Aunt says with such confidence:

Aunt: "Oh, Jane, you know what your Mam needs to do?"

Jane: ""What? Donate some of the flowers?"

A: "No, adopt a Haitian orphan. I am going to go and tell her that."

J: "Oh, please let me be there when you do."

I can just see it now....my mam, recently widowed, roaming the house with nothing but the sound of Sophie's dog collar jingling and the Haitian orphan playing quietly on a blanket in the front room. They would become bff's and ride on the bike handlebars a la Laverne and Shirley.

I mean, this is a mere couple hours after the memorial service. People are still noshing on their eloquently catered funeral food. We haven't even made a second run to the liquor store yet. And, here is my Aunt, going to tell my mam this suggestion with an intensity that rivaled my hatred that Chic-Fil-A is closed on Sunday. (It's true. They are all bastards.) My mam is also the same one who lost a rescue dog a decade back so I can only imagine how well she would keep up with a malnourished, french speaking child that has recently been displaced due to a horrible catastrophic natural disaster.

Not to mention the logistics of this. Would it go something like:

1. Call the funeral director

2. Find Out About Life Insurance

3. Inquire about Haitian Adoption

4. Sell Dental Practice

Yeah, I can see that situation getting it's own 'Successories' poster real soon.

The House of Cards

So..... when I started to "blog" (if 30 some odd posts can even count as being a blogger) I thought it would be really fun and everyone would think I was hilarious and the end. Humor is really the only thing that I am really good at so I have honed my skills and read many leather bound books on improving my form. Humor, and well, sewing but that is only because I took clothing classes, like, four times in high school so I can sew a square pillow. But, the only thing that qualifies me for is to get hired on at a sweat shop. However, I have seen on 20/20, or something, that most sweat shops don't have air conditioning and considering I have really frizzy hair, I decided not to go that route.

Well, not so much today. I haven't posted anything in eleventy months anyway, but, I just want to go on record now, saying that nobody is going to want to read this. All (what is it, 25) of you are free to "un-follow" me cause, seriously, nobody cares about any of this except me...which is fine.

I grew up in a family that laughs all the time. So, it is really easy to have any situation and make it funny when you are around other witty people who are also hilarious. And when there is usually wine involved. My little 'stories' (i.e. what happens whilst I stand in line at Costco) translate easily because I grew up laughing. So when I would email someone (Hi, Katie) something funny, they would tell me to blog it.

But now, I don't really want to blog-I just kinda want to put something down so I can remember it while it is still fresh in my mind. And since my handwriting is about as good as Alex's, this is easier than actually writing it down.

Ah, Alex.

Maybe this is for him too. And Annie. Because I can remember but they won't be able to. And, just maybe, if they have some idea of how wonderful and fun it used to be, then they can carry it on with them. I figure if we all play our cards right, one day, they will have a machine that can convert this into the new version of the google-web, read it, and from that, they will be prepared if someone sends a Chinese Nationalist to their house for Memorial Day and know just what to say....or learn just how important a diving board is to the 4th of July......or that being brave is 'going nill' when you have the Ace of Spades in your hand.

And just where to hide the ribs.

Oh, and if you happen to make it this far, I kinda warned you. Permission to "un-follow" now granted. But, feel free to come back tomorrow.

jane