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.

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