Sad Faced Boy

Merrrrrrrrrrrr

Monday, January 15, 2007

FESSICK ARE THERE BARS AHEAD? IF THERE ARE WE'LL ALL BE DEAD.
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I stumbled across an article about Andre the Giant a few weeks back and it may have been one of the more illuminating bits of biography that I've read in awhile. I really suggest that anyone should read it even if you only know of Andre the Giant from his role as Fessick in "Princess Bride". Let me preface this by saying that I found this to be a great article because the man would have been the equivalent of the son of Dionysus/Bacchus (Greek or Roman God of spirits) and his ability to drink was something few people can even imagine. One of the quotes that best sum's up his tolerance was when getting surgery for his back the anethesiologist unsure of how much pain medication to give him asked him how much did it take for Andre to feel buzzed. Andre replied that it took him about two liters to get a warm feeling. Two liters.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUM
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It was my mothers birthday on Thursday and no I don't know how old she is. I know it's sad but then up until a few years ago I never really knew what the day her birthday was. Come to think of it I'm pretty sure I already forgot when my Dad's birthday is... November maybe? Maybe. I can here the cries of "bad son" already coming from SG but I choose to take the course that most people do and say that it isn't entirely my fault. When I was younger my parents never made a big deal about their birthdays or their anniversaries and as an adult they still don't. It would never fail but about a week before a birthday or anniversary I would always get a call from one parent telling me that it was the other parents birthday coming up and that we were going out to dinner but that I didn't need to worry about buying a gift. See what I mean, if no one ever makes a big deal about it then why would I remember. Lame, I know.

Now let me switch places here. If it were my birthday coming up I sure would hope that someone would remember it but then again I'm of two opinions on my own birthday. I'd love to celebrate it, go out with a big bang, drink myself into drunkenness and Taco Bell late night binging but at the same time I kind of prefer the anonymity. I think it all boils down to me being a mostly quiet person who is uncomfortable in large social situations but who does like to be around people. A person who sits on the fence between introverts and extroverts a person who in Christianity God would say that I am neither hot nor cold but am luke warm so I must be spit out.

Thursday was dear Mum's birthday and I did remember and call her up to wish her a happy birthday. We didn't end up doing anything as it turned out that instead of going out to dinner she had planned on cooking and hosting her own dinner. Even I thought this was a wretched idea of the same sort as having to tie your own noose for your own hanging. So instead I told her to stop tying her noose and that we would have dinner at our house for her birthday.

The counting was done, the calls were made and on Sunday after a good cleaning, rolling of the Katamari and cooking we found ourselves nearing the time of dining. Hosting a dinner engagement is quite an endeavor and no amount of reading in magazines can prepare you for it. Sure I've read that entertaining is like sex that the more you do it the better you get at it. If that's the case then SG and I are more like a sixteen year old couple in the back of a fogged up Civic groping and pawing for all we are worth.

SG is much better at this cooking for company than I am as from 3pm on she was juggling a 10+ pound ham, a potato casserole, brussel sprouts and rolls and somehow it all came out and none of it was cold. I in all of this provide more of a supportive role doing things of the cleaning nature along with setting tables, making appetizers and trying to stay out of the kitchen as much as possible. I will have to say that my table setting turned out to be quite the experience, more of an experience than setting a table should be. I kid you not we moved the napkins around three or four times before we got it right. Every time I walked into the dining room to put down a fork and knife I found a napkin on the wrong side. This went on until I went upstairs to read on the net about how you are supposed to do it. It's a napkin on your left with the fork and the knife on your right blade facing towards the plate followed by the spoon. Salad fork, soup spoon pha, who knows I stopped at that.

The single most defining moment of the night had to have been when while herding people into the dining room we found out that between our 3 1/2 degrees we forgot to count ourselves in the list of people eating. Total number just to site was 13 for the night. The supporting defining moment was when my grandfather asked to put some more gin into is martini glass at which point my grandmother told me that I shouldn't. My grandfather looked me in the eye and said... "Look who's talking to you." Hell's yeah, lush is just a part of my genetic makeup, God love Irish/Welsh/English/Germans who put this into my genes and God love booze.

After all is said and done it was a good time though I'm convinced that entertaining is like running any sort of event in that it is all an exercise in organized chaos. You can prepare as much as you want but entertaining like in battle it always seems that the shit will hit the fan the minute the first engagement occurs or the first guest shows up.

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