So Your Mom is an Asian Trannie

A relationship during holidays are all about compromise and sacrifice. When your families live more than an hour apart, you essentially have to plead your case for why it's more important to see your family on any particular holiday. Since my family says grace before dinner (although we forgot this year), we went to my family's for Easter dinner.



Since I can remember, I associated Easter with my birthday. Even though I resented the holiday overshadowing the celebration of my birth, I always appreciated the fact that more family members would show up for Easter but be tricked into celebrating my arrival into this world. From the perspective of a child: more family members here on my birthday = more presents. So yeah, how could I complain?



This year Easter landed far enough away from my birthday that we could celebrate each event on completely different weekends. From the perspective of a grown ass woman that doesn't see her family enough: more reasons to celebrate = more motivation to see your family. Everybody wins.



Although I was baptised Catholic, I was never very good at it. By that I mean, because I'm a good person and have a good heart, I practice many fundamentals of Christianity without being told by a book to do so or out of fear of damnation. But I could never get the knack of this organized religion stuff. Like Easter: I don't know if I can fully grasp what this holiday stands for- I get the basics and all, but I still don't know where bunnies, candy, and ham come into play. You see?



This year for me, Easter stood for technology. Women over 50 and technology. Have you ever tried to teach a 4 month old baby how to high five? Well it's easier and probably less frustrating than teaching your mother how to play Guitar Hero. Teaching your grandmother how to play bowling on Nintendo Wii is also more difficult than teaching a 4 month old how to high five. I know this because I've tried to do both.



You have to consider that the technology we spend our lives adjusting to will soon be gone and a new technology will be here making you feel retarded. Like having 4 remotes for the tv, cable, dvd player, and surround sound. So many remotes gives me enough anxiety that I'd rather pick up a book.



So here is my mom, whom I've grown to appreciate very much in my adult years- and I'm not saying this because she reads my blogs. She's about to play her 11 year old nephew in bowling. On this new fangled game system, you can pick the character that plays you! Cousin already has a character with his name. His character slightly resembles him. Apparently, this is the point of building your character- to make it a digital version of you.



My mom complains when cousin selects a female character that doesn't resemble her. She complains again when he selects an unattractive female character. It's then that we see the character named "Ben S." My aunt and I yell for cousin to pick Ben S. to be my mom. We laughed wildly as the disappointment filled her eyes. "Your Wii Bowling character does not define you as a person, mom!" I had to say. She was concerned that we chose this character because deep down we felt that it resembled her in some way. I could see why she'd be concerned with this. Because this was her character:





Besides the fact that my mom is in fact an Asian tranie with a huge mole and goatee, this character looks nothing like her in real life. She would never wear pink and her hair certainly isn't blond.

In the end, she beat my 11 year old cousin. Afterwards, she went outside to smoke and contemplate an identity crisis caused by this new technology.

The lesson to be learned this Easter is that you should probably not hurt a parent's feelings by assigning an Asian Trannie to represent him or her in a serious game of digital bowling. Until next time, Happy Day.

Last night's noises were Narwal and Woodchuck.

Settling into the 5th place in 4 years and I'm disappointed that we can hear our downstairs neighbor's phone conversation. But at least he sounds like a nice guy.

You see, I can tolerate hearing neighbors but I'm not so comfortable with them hearing me. Because sometimes we like to "do it" and I'm very private with this. Mostly because of the animal noises I enjoy making during the act.

But in any event, I saw boyfriend's optimistic "I heart this place" wide eyed contentedness drain from his face as he said, "I can hear him like he's sitting in the room!"

He'll have to deal with it. After this move and all the preparing of walls, I'm not itchin to go anywhere for the next couple of years. Our friends have already signed and notarized a contract stating they aren't required to help us move until 2010.

Our walls here are yellow. Like the DEFINITION of yellow. It takes about 6 minutes for you to adjust to the stream of emotions you feel upon walking into our apartment. First you feel a little jarred- like someone smacked you in the face with the sun. Next it's a little anxious because its brightness makes you feel like you should be productive at every breathing moment. And finally, you simply feel awake and comfortable.

I wish we could say we did this on purpose. But really it turned out much more "yellow" than we anticipated. We like it. Well, I *think* I like it- I go back and forth on the subject.

Our street is lovely. A clean street where people pay $400,000 for their row homes. It makes me nervous because clean expensive neighborhoods can bring nosey mf's. Lauren reassured me by saying, "You WANT to live in a place where people care about their surroundings! I came home yesterday to blunt guts sitting on my step! People just leave there trash right in front of our house!!" And I guess she's right.

I'm just one in 36,164

My coworker is known for luck with gambling. After a weekend of banking on whims and gut feelings, I asked her to buy (for me) a Powerball ticket. I wanted nothing to do with the purchase of this ticket so I had her take the dollar out of my wallet, purchase the ticket and drop it in my drawer. I promised to split my winnings with her and spent the weekend talking about what I'd do with millions of dollars.

My first "vacation" would probably be volunteering at an orphanage in Africa. I've been toying with the thought for some time but oddly enough, such a volunteer mission costs a bitch money. From there, I'd go to Thailand and pay $325 a week to take care of elephants. Since I'm not trained to deal with such large mammals, I'd probably have to just hose them down and clean up their poop. But I'm THAT into elephants that it'd be delightful. Oh, and I'd also have to sleep in a tent. I suspect the mosquitos in the jungle are the size of hummingbirds.

I'd buy my dad and stepmom a larger house. I'd buy my mom that small house in Runnamede that she used to talk about buying if it ever gets put up for sale. I'd invest in my friends shop because I love it and want to see it succeed. I'd give a great deal of money to charity and probably continue to work- or at least volunteer somewhere. I'd pay for my sibling's education and go back to school full time. I'd give money to the people that feed the homeless outside of the Free Library so that the homeless people can eat free range chicken and homemade mac and cheese.

If I bought a car, it'd be a Smart Car. Or a hybrid. I'd write a book.

If I won the lottery, you wouldn't hear about it though. I'd collect it annonymously and continue wearing the same old clothes.

Today I checked my ticket and to my suprise, I won $4!! This was actually far more than I ever dreamed of winning. I kept my promise and split my winnings with coworker. With my share, I bought 2 more tickets. We'll see how it goes tonight.