Saturday, November 26, 2005

I've never liked Ben Stiller, anyway.

A semi-relaxing weekend at home. It's always good for me to get out of the city, and I always look forward to coming to an impeccably clean house in the country with an apple pie baking in the oven. This midwestern fantasy is usually made reality by my anal-retentive mother (who always manages to time things just right so the pie is done ten minutes after I arrive, and even has little apple-shaped dough cutouts decorating the crust), but it's never quite as relaxing as I expect it to be. There is something deeply unsettling about having fifty channels to watch on tv, not having to walk anywhere, and not being allowed to actually touch any of the furniture.

I got a little practicing done, but not as much as I wanted, as I was constantly interrupted by "Aren't you done practicing yet? Have you taken a shower yet today? I need help setting the table. Don't you want to go shopping or help me with the food?"

I can't make any major complaints as I received a substantial sum of "pre christmas" money from my grandparents, and subsequently went out to buy a creAtive Zen MicroPhoto (super cool mp3 player with a color screen that stores pictures as well as songs), and a puma sweatshirt. I also got to stuff my face with great food, and drink lots of really good wine that I don't have the refined palate to truly enjoy.

My usual foreign film marathon that I hold every time I come home was negated by my mother's trip to the video store (damn it, she beat me!) I was strapped into a chair, mom taped my eyes open and put drops in them through the Will Smith film "Hitch" so I would have to watch. I refused to be subjected to "Meet the Fockers", it brings back too many flashbacks from a dating disaster last spring, and I hate Ben Stiller, anyway.

My mom and my aunt like to stand at the kitchen counter, drink wine, and talk about what a dangerous place the world is today. As well as bitch about the rest of the family. Dad and I bury our noses in our books, or retreat to our respective computers.

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