I last left you with the night we wandered into the swank sushi bar after failing to find our protest rock bar...but I left something out about that night! Between the museum and the wanderings, we went to a bar close to our hotel called Excalibar. This is the only bar in Mexico City that carded us, and the security measures didn't stop there... they searched my bag and actually did a full pat down of Dave (and I mean FULL...he was like, "Whoa!"). Once we got in, we were struck speechless by the hilarious interior design. They had one big booth lining all the walls, covered in deep blue carpet with glow-in-the-dark planets, stars and suns all over it that extended from the floor up on the seats and the backs. Then above the booth was a huge panel of mirrors. They also had big posts in the middle of the room that were covered in the same carpet, and the lights were obviously down quite low so the solar system was aglow. Dave asked the bartenders (in Spanish) what types of beer they had, and his response was, "Grande." Meaning they only had one type of beer that came in a HUGE bottle! So we shared one and sat somewhat awkwardly amongst a group of people dancing and singing to the music being played (which was actually really good Mexican rock and ska). Then this gangsta lookin' dude who was actually not a gangsta at all but rather a server at this restaurant downtown started talking to us, and he was really sweet but had sketchy looking friends. So we left good ol' Excalibar, but definitely enjoyed our cerveza grande while we were there (and the carpet, of course).
Now for the the next day, which was full of more museums and crazy new friend. We first went to the Leo Trotsky museum, which is set up in the house Trotsky spent his last years living in. After being exiled from Russia and sent to all these other countries, Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera spoke with the Mexican government and set it up for Trotsky and his wife to come live with them in the Blue House (their home) until the Trotskys got their own place, where the museum was located.
So, the museum started with two rooms that were built in front of his house, full of photographs and old documents from his move to Mexico and his time in the City. There were numerous assassination attempts while living in Mexico, including one that he actually didn't survive (a crazy man killed Trotsky with an ice pick in the bedroom). There were pictures of the crime scene and him in the coffin and everything, along with some photos of his kids and his life in other countries. Then you walk into the courtyard of his house, which is kept like how it was during his life. He worked for 10 hours or more every weekday with assistants, trying to write a biography about Stalin and other documents to get the truth out about what was going on (this is one reason why Stalin supporters continually tried to kill him), and then dedicated his off time to caring for animals and the gardens in his courtyard. He had a hen house, loads of rabbits and other animals that he cared for with the same level of attention and dedication he put toward his political work (according to interview's with his wife). Also, he took weekend excursions to the hillsides of Mexico and brought back all these cacti and everything that are still growing...it was breathtaking.
Then you walk through the house for the armed guards, who spent their days in the tall watch towers beside the building that overlooked the neighborhood. In this small house, there were pictures from his time in Russia, helping lead the revolution, and all this info about Stalin and everything that was happening. Truly very interesting. Then, you finally get to walk through his house, completely with boarded up windows, holes in the wall from a previous assassination attempt (made by one of my favorite muralists, Siquieros! I was sad when I learned he was a nutso Stalin-ist), and the tube of toothpaste Trotsky used prior to his murder, still sitting on the bathroom sink. Their dishes were still in the kitchen, their comforter still on their bed. And it turns out that Trotsky also drank Earl Grey tea...his box of Twinnings Earl Grey was still on a kitchen shelf.
We were very moved by the whole experience. I knew so little about this whole chunk of history prior to visiting this museum (and still don't know as much as I probably should). And it also opened my eyes to how lucky I am in some ways to be an American. In a lot of ways, actually. I'm very quick to jump into the camp of, "I hate our president and the United States sucks!" But in reality, I have a lot of freedoms and rights that I take for granted, that I receive simply because I happened to be born here. The place really got me thinking.
Then, we walked down the street to the Blue House, which is now turned into the Frida Kahlo museum. When Trotsky first came to Mex City, he lived with Frida and Diego. But then, Frida and he had an affair and there were a few incidents with protesters, so he moved out with his wife down the street (which works out quite conveniently for museum goers now!). There was a long line to get in and I was quite hungry and Dave quite thirsty, so the plan was for me to run around the corner and get something while he waited. Well, I got pretty distracted by this enormous market that was around the corner, and found this lovely, sweet old woman selling the most delicious corn I've ever had. She scrapes the corn off the cob into a pot with spices and peppers and lime juice and cooks it over a fire (all this at a street stand), then scoops it into a cup, adds mayo, lime juice, salt and spicy pepper, and sells it for not even $1 a cup. And holy shit, it was sooooo good. So I was eating and chatting and then thought, "OOPS! I LEFT DAVE!" So I ran back around the corner, stopping at a convenience store only to realize I didn't have enough pesos for the corn and water, and ran back to Dave, who was waving people past him into the museum because he had hit the front but I was still gone. I saved half the corn for him though, so that quenched his thirst a bit. And he harbored no angry feelings, saying he would have stopped for adorable old ladies with delicious corn as well.
The museum was just as beautiful and magical as I remembered from my visit there two years ago, full of all her paintings and sketch books and even her full body casts that she painted and drew on. Her clothes were hanging in the closet and photos of her on the walls, and her kitchen and rooms were left just like she designed them. She also grew flowers and trees in a courtyard that are still kept up, so we got to walk all through them, looking at sculptures and statues she placed there long ago. One neat fact about Frida (well, neat to me) is that she really liked cats and kept all these cats in her courtyard. To this day, there are three cats, descendants of hers, that roam around out there. I remembered them as being social and friendly, but this time around they were really good at ignoring me. Then I found this old one with an injured eye and a leg that kinda drug while she hobbled around and I thought for sure she'd want some love, but she marched straight past me into an employee's only area with a locked gate when I tried to approach her. I guess it was too crowded for them that day!
So aside from the once-friendly-but-now-snotty cats (who are probably all inbred, anyway), the museum was wonderful and beautiful and made me fall even more in love with Mrs. Kahlo and her tragic, inspiring story. Then afterwards, I took Dave to the cool market where we bought more corn and gazed at all the crazy and random things for sale.
After all of this walking and looking and standing and thinking, we decided that a cheap Mexican beer with tequila shots were necessary. We went to the place where our protest bar was supposedly located, called El Jardin de Centennario, thinking we would just walk straight to it. Well, the Jardin is very cool but also very huge, and we spent yet another two hours looking for this place. But what a lovely two hours it was! The Jardin is a 2 block by 2 block square walled in by restaurants, bars and clubs, filled in the middle with street vendors and performers and dancers and loads of people, with big Christmas lights and pinatas hanging from poles and draped over the streets. We saw drummers with random passersby stopping to dance, people selling handmade notebooks and instruments, pipes, clothes, food, whatever else. We even passed a bagpiper!
Since we couldn't locate our destination right away, we went into this other bar that was exactly what one would envision when told to picture the perfect Mexican bar. There were paintings of bulls and matadors on the walls, but not in a tacky, touristy way. It felt really chill and cool, and all the people around us were Mexicans drinkin' their tequila and hanging out. After that, we found our bar but there was no music that night, so we decided to get a drink in the yard, which was unfortunately packed. As we were sadly walking back inside, these young Mexicans yelled at us and said we could sit with them. And they were so great! There were three, all from near the border of Texas who went to school in El Paso but were vacationing in the City. They practiced their English with us and we practiced our Spanish with them, so it worked out well all around. They were loads of fun! Very friendly and silly, full of jokes and excited to talk with us about the States and to hear our experiences so far in their country. While we were drinking margaritas and hanging out, one of them interrupted us all and shouted really loudly at this vendor who was walking around with a big box hanging from his neck, and was like, "Come over here guys, this is so fun, a big Mexican tradition!" So we all walked over and it turns out that the box has two baton-like things attached to it with wires. Two people hold the batons and then everyone else holds hands. Then the dude turns electricity on and it zaps electricity into the batons, through the circle of people holding hands! The big thing is that you don't want to be the first one to stop or else the whole thing gets shut off and everyone teases you, so you have to keep holding hands and the dude keeps turning it up. Oh my lord! I was leaping and squealing but absolutely did not want to be the little white girl that let go. Finally someone else let go so I wasn't the loser, and we all burst out laughing. What a crazy thing! Apparently it's quite big in Mexico amongst young people. And it actually felt really cool afterwards! We were so lively and excited, and tingly all throughout. Um, I suppose that is what happens when you get electrocuted...
After that, the five of us went to this other bar in a different part of the City, and ate delicious food. At midnight, one of the girls announced it was her birthday, and was like, this is the best birthday ever! That made us really happy. Then at some point in the night, Dave went to the bathroom and the others were talking quietly in rapid Spanish to the server, so I was totally confused. When Dave came back, the server brought over two crazy masks that are apparently like the mask this famous Mexican wrestler wears! It was red and black and totally goofy, but this wrestler is like, a BIG DEAL in Mex City. So Dave and the other boy put on the masks (Dave looked so funny with his dreads sticking out) and we all went behind the bar, where one of the girls thrusted this enormous bottle of tequila into my arms, and we all posed for a picture that the server took!! It was truly crazy. When we made it back to the hotel, Dave and I just laughed and laughed until we passed out into a very deep sleep.
Yes, this was all one day!! The last two days are exciting but less eventful, and won't take nearly as long. I promise to finish it up soon, and then get onto what it's like to be back in NY. Things have been rather uneventful (I got sick, got mostly better, am back into the groove of working) with the exception of some housing drama. My landlord officially hates me, which is working to my advantage because Dave and I are going to get our own place! Do not fear...whether you want to read about it or not, there will be some posts about house-hunting round 2 in NYC.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Hola Ya'll! Part 2: The Beginning of Mexico
The morning after our engagement discussion, Dad drove us to the airport and we boarded the long flight to Mexico City. After a layover in Dallas and lots of bad pretzels, we landed in D.F. and I was reminded how tough it is to speak Spanish. I fumbled all over myself trying to find the nonexistent shuttle to our hotel, when we finally found an authorized cab driver who overcharged us but was very friendly and safe.
Our hotel, Hotel Prim, was located in the Zona Rosa district, which is an up-and-coming area with coffee shops, bars, clubs and art spaces. It used to be really fancy and busy but then the Metro came through and, according to some snotty woman we met in the rich part of the City, "brought along all the type of people you don't want in your neighborhood." I think she was referencing to young people and not grossly rich people, so that means we fit right in! Apparently though, all the rich people moved out to this other part of DF called Polonco and then places in Zona Rosa started shutting down and the area went to shit for awhile. But in the past few years, a huge community of gay and lesbian youth moved in and now there are all these clubs (gay and straight) popping up everywhere. It was really perfect for us! Busy in some areas but quiet and residential in others, yet overall very safe. And Hotel Prim, which was rated on Travelocity as a two star hotel, was actually lovely. It wasn't fancy, but we had our own room and bathroom that was cleaned everyday. And they supplied us with free bottles of water, which was really excellent. Also, they provided free internet access and had a club and restaurant on the first floor. Unfortunately, the club was $8 to get in and was run by a fascist who was not flexible in any way, so we didn't spend much time there. But that's okay because we could hear the music loud and clear in our room!
So, the first day we actually slept for 4 hours! We were so tired from being up late the night before and traveling all day. On the first plane ride, Dave and I had to sit apart and he was stuck in the middle of a squad of high school cheerleaders going to Nationals in Dallas and was like, I have to vomit! So he didn't get any sleep at all. But anyway, when we woke up we went walking through Zona Rosa, which was mostly dead since Thursday nights are apparently not happening. After a little bit, we found the main strip on a street called Hamburgo, which was full of clubs BLASTING salsa and rumba music. We were looking for something more chilled out and found a perfect bar called the Blue Zone (I think) that was this pool hall with $1.50 Coronas and an air hockey table. They were playing a live concert video of Pink Floyd while Dave and I battled it out air hockey style and then played the longest, worst game of pool. But it was all quite fun, and just what we were looking for. And by the end of that night, my Spanish came back to me and I was speaking just like in Ecuador. And Dave was very impressive! I knew he could understand most Spanish and speak some, but he was rocking out. By the end of the week, he was speaking with the best of 'em!
After sleeping in Thursday morning, we went downstairs for a huge, yummy and cheap plate of huevos rancheros. We wanted to fully explore Mexico City that day, so we walked from our hotel through Zona Rosa and into the main plaza of DF called Zoloco. And it was indeed loco! There were sooooo many people, all focused on this ice skating rink in the middle of the plaza. Except because it was beautifully sunny with clear blue skies and warm breezes in the upper 70s, the ice melted quickly so we saw these bikers toting bricks of ice down the street to replenish the rink! That was funny. We also passed tons of shops, which seemed to be divided into themed blocks. Like, two blocks was shops with just light fixtures. And then the next few blocks was kids clothes and toys. Then it was shoes, then jewelry and gaudy knick-knacks. People crowded the sidewalks and just walked in the streets alongside cars, and adorable pinatas were hanging everywhere, off the phone wires and sides of buildings. Dave was particularly struck by the road maintenance, which was pretty hilarious. I suppose Mexican companies don't worry as much about being sued as those in the States, because there were four or five roads completely dug up with huge holes and rocks everywhere, and men working with power tools inside of them, with bikers and pedestrians just walkin' like normal! Very different. Also, the architecture was just insane. Every building had a beautiful gate or gorgeous tiles and bricks. Even the street lamps were decorated and detailed!
After lots of walking and gawking, we made our way to El Colegio de San Ildefonso, which was once the big Prep High School of DF. Frida Kahlo went there (that's where she first met Diego Rivera!) and all three of the muralists were commissioned to paint on its walls. The school is now an amazing (and enormous!) museum with courtyards maintained just like they were in the 20s and 30s. We saw so much impressive, thought-provoking art, walking around for hours, and still didn't see all its contents. My highlights from this museum:
* Diego Rivera painted his first mural in an auditorium that is seriously hidden. It took us at least half an hour to find it because you have to walk under some stairs and then through this small hallway that leads to a small door, that then opens up to this gorgeous auditorium. The mural, "Creation," is on the wall behind the stage and isn't as detailed as his later ones but is still truly beautiful. We just sat in the chairs, staring up at this piece of art, thinking about what it was like to be Frida Kahlo or Diego Rivera at that time.
* There was a big exhibit of photography by a Mexican artist named Rene Burri who traveled the world taking photographs of other cultures and war zones in the 20s-40s. Amazing and moving images.
* Jose Clemente Orozco painted a mural on three floors, including in the stairwells. When you first walk into the museum, you enter into a courtyard surrounded by massive columns with this huge Orozco mural staring at you. It's really graphic and violent, with lots of Communist symbolism. Breath taking.
* Anni and Josef Albers are a couple who created weird and cool abstract art. They also took some photos and collected various indigenous artifacts. Their numerous paintings, sculptures and collections took up so many rooms that we didn't see it all, even though we totally dug it.
After the museum, we wandered back to the hotel for a chill out break. That night, we wanted to check out a bar called El Hijo del Cuervo in the Southern part of the City that advertised live rock and protest music. The subway stops running at midnight and rumor has it that cab drivers kidnap white folk, so we wanted to make sure to get back for the subway. After an hour of wandering around the very beautiful part of town where this bar was supposedly located without finding it, we gave up and went to a swank sushi bar with cheap beer playing really cheesy American pop videos. Dave was wearing his very holey jeans, I was wearing a tee shirt and ratty skirt, and without even saying hello, immediately asked for the bathroom. We envisioned getting kicked out, but oh no, not in Mexico. These people are nice. Our server introduced himself and asked for our names, and happily brought us our cheap beers and smiled when we said we weren't ordering food. It was great. We received this type of friendly hospitality the entire trip, and were quite touched by it. We hear stories in America about how crude and dangerous and scary cities in Latin America are, but all three of my experiences in Latin American cities have left me overwhelmed with honest and warm the people I encountered were. Their culture definitely values companionship, family, openness, and the concepts of sharing and helping your neighbor much more than ours does. It felt good to briefly be a part of it.
So after our swank sushi bar, we went back home and decided to hunt for the protest music again the next day. Also on the day's plans were the Trostky Museum and the Frida Kahlo museum, located in the same 'hood as this illusive bar. We needed our rest for another busy day, so we caught the subway back to the lovely Hotel Prim and fell asleep to some bumping piano jazz accompanied by traditional Mexican singing from the $8 club.
More to come...
Our hotel, Hotel Prim, was located in the Zona Rosa district, which is an up-and-coming area with coffee shops, bars, clubs and art spaces. It used to be really fancy and busy but then the Metro came through and, according to some snotty woman we met in the rich part of the City, "brought along all the type of people you don't want in your neighborhood." I think she was referencing to young people and not grossly rich people, so that means we fit right in! Apparently though, all the rich people moved out to this other part of DF called Polonco and then places in Zona Rosa started shutting down and the area went to shit for awhile. But in the past few years, a huge community of gay and lesbian youth moved in and now there are all these clubs (gay and straight) popping up everywhere. It was really perfect for us! Busy in some areas but quiet and residential in others, yet overall very safe. And Hotel Prim, which was rated on Travelocity as a two star hotel, was actually lovely. It wasn't fancy, but we had our own room and bathroom that was cleaned everyday. And they supplied us with free bottles of water, which was really excellent. Also, they provided free internet access and had a club and restaurant on the first floor. Unfortunately, the club was $8 to get in and was run by a fascist who was not flexible in any way, so we didn't spend much time there. But that's okay because we could hear the music loud and clear in our room!
So, the first day we actually slept for 4 hours! We were so tired from being up late the night before and traveling all day. On the first plane ride, Dave and I had to sit apart and he was stuck in the middle of a squad of high school cheerleaders going to Nationals in Dallas and was like, I have to vomit! So he didn't get any sleep at all. But anyway, when we woke up we went walking through Zona Rosa, which was mostly dead since Thursday nights are apparently not happening. After a little bit, we found the main strip on a street called Hamburgo, which was full of clubs BLASTING salsa and rumba music. We were looking for something more chilled out and found a perfect bar called the Blue Zone (I think) that was this pool hall with $1.50 Coronas and an air hockey table. They were playing a live concert video of Pink Floyd while Dave and I battled it out air hockey style and then played the longest, worst game of pool. But it was all quite fun, and just what we were looking for. And by the end of that night, my Spanish came back to me and I was speaking just like in Ecuador. And Dave was very impressive! I knew he could understand most Spanish and speak some, but he was rocking out. By the end of the week, he was speaking with the best of 'em!
After sleeping in Thursday morning, we went downstairs for a huge, yummy and cheap plate of huevos rancheros. We wanted to fully explore Mexico City that day, so we walked from our hotel through Zona Rosa and into the main plaza of DF called Zoloco. And it was indeed loco! There were sooooo many people, all focused on this ice skating rink in the middle of the plaza. Except because it was beautifully sunny with clear blue skies and warm breezes in the upper 70s, the ice melted quickly so we saw these bikers toting bricks of ice down the street to replenish the rink! That was funny. We also passed tons of shops, which seemed to be divided into themed blocks. Like, two blocks was shops with just light fixtures. And then the next few blocks was kids clothes and toys. Then it was shoes, then jewelry and gaudy knick-knacks. People crowded the sidewalks and just walked in the streets alongside cars, and adorable pinatas were hanging everywhere, off the phone wires and sides of buildings. Dave was particularly struck by the road maintenance, which was pretty hilarious. I suppose Mexican companies don't worry as much about being sued as those in the States, because there were four or five roads completely dug up with huge holes and rocks everywhere, and men working with power tools inside of them, with bikers and pedestrians just walkin' like normal! Very different. Also, the architecture was just insane. Every building had a beautiful gate or gorgeous tiles and bricks. Even the street lamps were decorated and detailed!
After lots of walking and gawking, we made our way to El Colegio de San Ildefonso, which was once the big Prep High School of DF. Frida Kahlo went there (that's where she first met Diego Rivera!) and all three of the muralists were commissioned to paint on its walls. The school is now an amazing (and enormous!) museum with courtyards maintained just like they were in the 20s and 30s. We saw so much impressive, thought-provoking art, walking around for hours, and still didn't see all its contents. My highlights from this museum:
* Diego Rivera painted his first mural in an auditorium that is seriously hidden. It took us at least half an hour to find it because you have to walk under some stairs and then through this small hallway that leads to a small door, that then opens up to this gorgeous auditorium. The mural, "Creation," is on the wall behind the stage and isn't as detailed as his later ones but is still truly beautiful. We just sat in the chairs, staring up at this piece of art, thinking about what it was like to be Frida Kahlo or Diego Rivera at that time.
* There was a big exhibit of photography by a Mexican artist named Rene Burri who traveled the world taking photographs of other cultures and war zones in the 20s-40s. Amazing and moving images.
* Jose Clemente Orozco painted a mural on three floors, including in the stairwells. When you first walk into the museum, you enter into a courtyard surrounded by massive columns with this huge Orozco mural staring at you. It's really graphic and violent, with lots of Communist symbolism. Breath taking.
* Anni and Josef Albers are a couple who created weird and cool abstract art. They also took some photos and collected various indigenous artifacts. Their numerous paintings, sculptures and collections took up so many rooms that we didn't see it all, even though we totally dug it.
After the museum, we wandered back to the hotel for a chill out break. That night, we wanted to check out a bar called El Hijo del Cuervo in the Southern part of the City that advertised live rock and protest music. The subway stops running at midnight and rumor has it that cab drivers kidnap white folk, so we wanted to make sure to get back for the subway. After an hour of wandering around the very beautiful part of town where this bar was supposedly located without finding it, we gave up and went to a swank sushi bar with cheap beer playing really cheesy American pop videos. Dave was wearing his very holey jeans, I was wearing a tee shirt and ratty skirt, and without even saying hello, immediately asked for the bathroom. We envisioned getting kicked out, but oh no, not in Mexico. These people are nice. Our server introduced himself and asked for our names, and happily brought us our cheap beers and smiled when we said we weren't ordering food. It was great. We received this type of friendly hospitality the entire trip, and were quite touched by it. We hear stories in America about how crude and dangerous and scary cities in Latin America are, but all three of my experiences in Latin American cities have left me overwhelmed with honest and warm the people I encountered were. Their culture definitely values companionship, family, openness, and the concepts of sharing and helping your neighbor much more than ours does. It felt good to briefly be a part of it.
So after our swank sushi bar, we went back home and decided to hunt for the protest music again the next day. Also on the day's plans were the Trostky Museum and the Frida Kahlo museum, located in the same 'hood as this illusive bar. We needed our rest for another busy day, so we caught the subway back to the lovely Hotel Prim and fell asleep to some bumping piano jazz accompanied by traditional Mexican singing from the $8 club.
More to come...
Friday, January 4, 2008
Hola Ya'll! Part 1: Christmas in Kentucky
On Christmas Eve, Dave and I made our way to LaGuardia airport very early in the morning to fly to good ol' KY. We were greeted by my overjoyed mother and the sweet smilin' Granny, who had driven almost two hours to come pick us up at the Lexington airport. We flew into Lex because the tickets were so much cheaper, and then were later reminded of a deadly crash that occurred on their runway not too long ago. But we survived, and had a lovely drive down the highway through the most beautiful horse farms in the state. The horses were gorgeous, the grass green and beautiful, and the barns nicer than houses I've lived in. I can't imagine what the people houses look like!
Christmas Eve is actually Mom's birthday, so my aunt, uncle, brother Max, sister-in-law Kelly, mom, dad and Granny all have this big tradition of going to Gran's house and eating loads of chili. Even though I'm nearing my six year mark as a vegetarian, my family still doesn't get it, so I always end up bringing some yucky canned chili as an alternative to their BEEFY stew. This year though, I made my own and was praised for how tasty it was, despite that face it was "missin' the meat!" Then Dave had to boil some rice pasta because in the south, we eat our chili over pasta and he's allergic to wheat. So by the time we were done altering the meal to fit our excessive food needs, everyone was starving and dug in.
Mom seemed to enjoy her birthday and very much appreciated my weird present of a painted canvas with silly pictures of my bro and me. Then later that night, the four of us (Max, Kelly, Dave, me) had a fun time drinking wine and hanging out. The whole family really loved Dave, but the dynamic the four of us shared from the beginning was truly wonderful. Max and Dave are scarily similar (uh, what does that say about me?) and ranted about sci-fi and drumming while Kelly and I rolled our eyes and joked about their habit of constantly tapping fingers. He fit in right away, and I'm very much looking forward to the four of us spending more time together.
Then Christmas morning rolled around and we partook in another Strange-Firesheets tradition of gorging ourselves on a decadent Christmas breakfast (btw, Mom's maiden name/current last name is actually Strange). My parents made biscuits, hashbrowns, loads of eggs, a whole pig worth of country ham, and another pig worth of sausage. Afterwards, we opened stockings and presents, where I insisted everyone opened mine first because I was so excited about them (I made earrings for mom, gave Dad an old Ipod that's in perfect condition but was just too small for my music, and bought cool art at the Union Square Xmas fair for the sibs). I got some cool stuff too, including a pair of bootylicious jeans (go Mom!), comfy yet cute house slippers, very classy knee high boots, and many other goodies. Then we laid around, being fat and lazy (all in Jesus's name, of course) until it was time to go eat again at Granny's.
So, the whole crazy family congregates at the house of Granny on Christmas afternoon, with almost everyone bringing some type of delicious, lardful dish or creatively decorated, homemade candy. I can't even describe the amount of food covering the counter tops annually between six children and their spouses, 11 grandchildren (some with spouses), and ten great-grandchildren. It's a rarity for everyone to be there, but it's totally expected for at least 30 of us to show. It goes without saying that I ate a shit ton of food and then felt like my ballooned belly would never deflate back to normal. I also drank waaaay too much Big Red, this type of red cream soda made only in certain southern states that's literally liquified, carbonated bubblegum (I could feel the high-fructose corn syrup on my teeth but damn it's just so good!).
Anyway, aside from eating excessive amounts of food, we also swooned over Gran's new cat, shared pictures, told stories and goofed off quite a bit. Everyone really loved Dave, who held his own midst all the craziness, and gave him such a friendly, warm welcome. Despite their insanities, my family members all have really good, big hearts and tried to hard to make him feel included (i.e., they all got him presents and cooked loads of gluten-free food...um, why can't they accept the vegetarian thing as easily??). Dave was taken aback at how sweet and open they were to this dreadlocked Yankee I'm shackin' up with! Unfortunately though, they're more critical of me and my decisions, and since I'm the only grandkid to leave Kentucky (to New York City/Deviltown nonetheless), I spent a good part of the evening either defending my new home or raving all about the excitement of living in such a place. Then we opened presents (where I received even more candy!) and about a half hour later when someone suggested hitting up the two dessert tables, I decided my Christmas cheer had run out. Dave and I wanted to see "The Golden Compass" because we both read it and loved it, so we gave hugs and kisses and hit the road. We were naughty and snuck oversized bottles of Tecate into the movie with us and then felt bad because all these teenagers were sitting behind us with their dad. So every time we took a drink, we leaned way far forward so no one could tell. Overall, we kind of liked the film but in comparison to the book, it was disappointing. Visually, it was spot on, and the deamons were GORGEOUS. But the script writer made so many plot changes that really felt unnecessary and drastically took away from the overall story. I mean, they omitted the climax of the book! What? Who does that?
But it was still nice to have a me and Dave getaway. The next day was much more chilled out, full of shopping with Mom and a lovely dinner at my favorite Louisville restaurant, Ramsi's, with the Gran and my aunt. That night, Dave and I went out in the neighborhood called "The Highlands," which is the cool/hip part of Lville, and found a fun Irish bar with an awesome juke box that only cost $1 for six songs. The margaritas were only $3.50, and the pool only 75 cents. Amazing. We met a fun man with crazy stories about marshmallow guns that his wife bought and gave to all the kids and adults in the finally, thus destroying the house he spent hours cleaning. He was a really sweet dude, with some incredible and open-minded ideas on politics and life, despite his very Christian beliefs. It was really wonderful to have a conversation with someone who was so deeply rooted in his religion yet also so liberal in other ways. We liked ol' Patrick.
Then, as we were driving home that night, Dave told me that he wanted to marry me. At first, I was like, "Huh?" But the more we discussed it, the more I realized that we already kind of made a commitment of engagement to each other, just without the formality. For awhile now, we've said that we want to spend our lives together and we want to do what it takes to make our relationship last. We've discussed where all we want to travel together and live together, and when will be the best time for us to adopt children. All of these discussions seem pretty long-term and committed, so we decided that we do indeed want to marry each other, one day far in the future. So we made a plan to buy rings in Mexico, and I told him that he had to pick a time and officially propose, down on one knee and everything...
More to come.
Christmas Eve is actually Mom's birthday, so my aunt, uncle, brother Max, sister-in-law Kelly, mom, dad and Granny all have this big tradition of going to Gran's house and eating loads of chili. Even though I'm nearing my six year mark as a vegetarian, my family still doesn't get it, so I always end up bringing some yucky canned chili as an alternative to their BEEFY stew. This year though, I made my own and was praised for how tasty it was, despite that face it was "missin' the meat!" Then Dave had to boil some rice pasta because in the south, we eat our chili over pasta and he's allergic to wheat. So by the time we were done altering the meal to fit our excessive food needs, everyone was starving and dug in.
Mom seemed to enjoy her birthday and very much appreciated my weird present of a painted canvas with silly pictures of my bro and me. Then later that night, the four of us (Max, Kelly, Dave, me) had a fun time drinking wine and hanging out. The whole family really loved Dave, but the dynamic the four of us shared from the beginning was truly wonderful. Max and Dave are scarily similar (uh, what does that say about me?) and ranted about sci-fi and drumming while Kelly and I rolled our eyes and joked about their habit of constantly tapping fingers. He fit in right away, and I'm very much looking forward to the four of us spending more time together.
Then Christmas morning rolled around and we partook in another Strange-Firesheets tradition of gorging ourselves on a decadent Christmas breakfast (btw, Mom's maiden name/current last name is actually Strange). My parents made biscuits, hashbrowns, loads of eggs, a whole pig worth of country ham, and another pig worth of sausage. Afterwards, we opened stockings and presents, where I insisted everyone opened mine first because I was so excited about them (I made earrings for mom, gave Dad an old Ipod that's in perfect condition but was just too small for my music, and bought cool art at the Union Square Xmas fair for the sibs). I got some cool stuff too, including a pair of bootylicious jeans (go Mom!), comfy yet cute house slippers, very classy knee high boots, and many other goodies. Then we laid around, being fat and lazy (all in Jesus's name, of course) until it was time to go eat again at Granny's.
So, the whole crazy family congregates at the house of Granny on Christmas afternoon, with almost everyone bringing some type of delicious, lardful dish or creatively decorated, homemade candy. I can't even describe the amount of food covering the counter tops annually between six children and their spouses, 11 grandchildren (some with spouses), and ten great-grandchildren. It's a rarity for everyone to be there, but it's totally expected for at least 30 of us to show. It goes without saying that I ate a shit ton of food and then felt like my ballooned belly would never deflate back to normal. I also drank waaaay too much Big Red, this type of red cream soda made only in certain southern states that's literally liquified, carbonated bubblegum (I could feel the high-fructose corn syrup on my teeth but damn it's just so good!).
Anyway, aside from eating excessive amounts of food, we also swooned over Gran's new cat, shared pictures, told stories and goofed off quite a bit. Everyone really loved Dave, who held his own midst all the craziness, and gave him such a friendly, warm welcome. Despite their insanities, my family members all have really good, big hearts and tried to hard to make him feel included (i.e., they all got him presents and cooked loads of gluten-free food...um, why can't they accept the vegetarian thing as easily??). Dave was taken aback at how sweet and open they were to this dreadlocked Yankee I'm shackin' up with! Unfortunately though, they're more critical of me and my decisions, and since I'm the only grandkid to leave Kentucky (to New York City/Deviltown nonetheless), I spent a good part of the evening either defending my new home or raving all about the excitement of living in such a place. Then we opened presents (where I received even more candy!) and about a half hour later when someone suggested hitting up the two dessert tables, I decided my Christmas cheer had run out. Dave and I wanted to see "The Golden Compass" because we both read it and loved it, so we gave hugs and kisses and hit the road. We were naughty and snuck oversized bottles of Tecate into the movie with us and then felt bad because all these teenagers were sitting behind us with their dad. So every time we took a drink, we leaned way far forward so no one could tell. Overall, we kind of liked the film but in comparison to the book, it was disappointing. Visually, it was spot on, and the deamons were GORGEOUS. But the script writer made so many plot changes that really felt unnecessary and drastically took away from the overall story. I mean, they omitted the climax of the book! What? Who does that?
But it was still nice to have a me and Dave getaway. The next day was much more chilled out, full of shopping with Mom and a lovely dinner at my favorite Louisville restaurant, Ramsi's, with the Gran and my aunt. That night, Dave and I went out in the neighborhood called "The Highlands," which is the cool/hip part of Lville, and found a fun Irish bar with an awesome juke box that only cost $1 for six songs. The margaritas were only $3.50, and the pool only 75 cents. Amazing. We met a fun man with crazy stories about marshmallow guns that his wife bought and gave to all the kids and adults in the finally, thus destroying the house he spent hours cleaning. He was a really sweet dude, with some incredible and open-minded ideas on politics and life, despite his very Christian beliefs. It was really wonderful to have a conversation with someone who was so deeply rooted in his religion yet also so liberal in other ways. We liked ol' Patrick.
Then, as we were driving home that night, Dave told me that he wanted to marry me. At first, I was like, "Huh?" But the more we discussed it, the more I realized that we already kind of made a commitment of engagement to each other, just without the formality. For awhile now, we've said that we want to spend our lives together and we want to do what it takes to make our relationship last. We've discussed where all we want to travel together and live together, and when will be the best time for us to adopt children. All of these discussions seem pretty long-term and committed, so we decided that we do indeed want to marry each other, one day far in the future. So we made a plan to buy rings in Mexico, and I told him that he had to pick a time and officially propose, down on one knee and everything...
More to come.
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