dogzilla30 (dogzilla30) wrote,


Last night I went to my parents house. My mother seemed mad at my dad at first. The plan was to make pizzelles and watch some movies. I showed up with six movies. I think it short circuited her brain. They had made the dough earlier in the evening and needed it to get to room temperature. We watched Juggernaut and then made the cookies.

It took about 30 minutes to make them. My mom asked if we should use her pizzelle maker too. I said no. She said that was good since hers was dirty. Last year it was the cause of our frustration.

Her pizzelle maker is old. Really, really old. I think the plates are made of iron. Nearly every cookie made from it last year didn't come out right. She and my dad made pizzelles with it when I was a kid.

My mother kept complimenting mine. It has a non-stick surface and only needs to be buttered/greased once. Hers needs re-greased every 5 - 7 cookies or they would stick. You're to count to 30 seconds after the dough is in the machine. My mother and I count differently. Her 30 seconds is a lot faster than my 30 seconds. Little does she know that there is a pizzelle maker in this bedroom waiting for her to unwrap it and use it next year.

She hassled me about going to my Uncle David's on Christmas day. She told him that we usually go to my in-laws that day. I told her that my mother-in-law wanted us there at 9am to open our presents, then have some of the Dominican Sisters my father-in-law works with come over for Christmas dinner at 1pm. Then my mother-in-law wants to go to one of her sisters' houses at 5pm for dessert. My husband's cousin wants to play poker also. That will be the highlight.

My husband's time schedule is entirely different and I'm in agreement with him. I don't see why we need to be there so early. It's not like she's making a turkey or a goose. We had lasagna last year.

My mother said that we could use my uncle as an excuse for leaving early. I could say, "He's not well." As she pointed out, I wouldn't exactly be lying - he's crazy. I told her I didn't think a Jewish man would appreciate a bunch of Baptists and a bunch of Dominican nuns praying for him to get better. Sometimes you have to sigh instead of strangling the person that gave you life.

Have I mentioned that my husband is Superman? He went out about 6pm to get some VCR cables and dinner. I was snug at home reviewing message boards and things of that nature. Ever since my car died on me, he's been driving it. He made it to the end of the alleyway and had started to pull into the road when it died on him. It was kind enough to do do the whole smoking from the steering column thingie for him. A car came by but drove around him instead of hitting him. The car wouldn't start so he pushed it back into the alleyway. One more try before giving up and walking home and it started for him. He drove down the road to the AAA repair place and left it there. (He forgot his parking pass but he can get that later.) He walked home but stopped at the new pizza place to get warm and get us dinner. There was snow on the ground. With the wind chill factor, it was a few degrees below zero. His adventures from beginning to end took about an hour.

If it had been me, I never would have made it. The dry cleaner still has my coat so I know I would have frozen. After I was married my dad gave me good advice. "Dress for the walk, not for the ride."

I told my mother that the car is why I was late getting there. Their garage is big enough that four cars can fit in it yet they've managed to somehow fill up one half with scattered items. My mother got it into her head that my husband's car should go into the garage. She thought it wouldn't start in this cold weather. I had to remind her that my car was at AAA, the car I was driving was my husband's and his boss was going to pick him up for work in the morning.

I'm worried about how much it will cost to get the car fixed. After taxes we paid $2000 for it. With Christmas presents, we've pretty much gone through any savings we had.

I can't believe my father-in-law is making us wait until Christmas day for our monitor. He thinks it's just something nice for us to have. He doesn't realize that it's painful to sit in front of a fuzzy monitor for hours at a time. My husband tried to explain it to him but he didn't get it. On raids I have a book with me so I can have something that doesn't move to focus my eyes on. It can make me feel nauseated if I don't.

My husband has been talking about getting rid of his web site for a while. It makes me mad because I know how much he enjoys working on it. He wants to add a place for his reviews and essays but doesn't feel that he can do it there. Certain key words in Google bring up his site. If he places a review there, even if it's in a directory no one knows about, it can come up in a Google search.

I think he should make a password protected area. To my knowledge, Google can't do web crawls on those areas.

I really should figure out how to get this network working on Windows XP and Windows 98 so he can use the laptop for the internet. If that doesn't work I could try a wireless network. The PC would be plugged into the router and the laptop could go wireless. I couldn't upgrade the laptop to Adobe Acrobat 6.0. I think it didn't have enough RAM or a fast enough processor.

While driving to my parents I realized that my guilty pleasure these days has been bad pop music. The last few trips to the library I've looked for books on tape but none of the stories reach out to me. Nickelback and Maroon 5 have songs on the station that I listen to. I revel in the posturing of the singers. Now and then it gets to be a bit much and I have to turn to the alternative station. As fortune would have it, they are playing good music when I switch over.

I used to be embarassed about some of my music likes. It was embarassment to the point that I didn't even own their CDs. Maybe because my husband has liked so much stuff that it allowed me to no longer be self conscious. Or maybe he liked the music too. Or maybe he brings out the little girl in me.

I feel like I spent a lot of time with adults as a kid. Since I mainly socialized with them I don't always get the blissful childlike look on my face when I remember some early childhood memory. My husband does and it's one of the things I love about him. I recognize the little blonde-haired boy I see in photos and videos right in front of me.

My parents have offered many times to let us live with them so we could save money for a nice sized down payment on a home. We have so many reasons for refusing (too far in the country, awkward changes in our lifestyle) but I just realized another reason why. My husband and dog make me so incredibly happy. There are strange things about my parents marriage that make it work that I will never understand no matter how many years I am alive.

To live with people who are twice our age who take joy in such different things would kill me. I wouldn't be free to be me and that's something I've embraced in recent years. (Well, the last 12 or so.) I couldn't give that up.

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