| So its been long!I have skipped both summer and fall, failing to comment on summer break or football season or the first two snows of the season. It will be interesting to see if anyone reads this. So Christmas break is almost here so everyone have a fantastic holidays and remember that the stomach ache you have around nine pm. Christmas day is just the turkey and not your appendix. On the subject of Christmas for those of you buying presents for me here are some suggestions: a 2007 Dodge Charger, a yacht, and (not or) the Ambient Pulse snowboard. So if you're feeling a great deal of love towards me or just feeling excessively wealthy try for at least two of those and we'll be well on our way to becoming the best of friends. So think on it.
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| Thats right!Cornell is 14-0. They made into the quarter finals beating Towson 14-6. They play Albany this weekend. In case you're wondering why I am a fan of Big Red it's because Ithaca is my hometown and my dad was at Cornell when I was born. So if a west coast guy can have a favorite team thats mine.
Update: Cornell beat Albany 12-11 in overtime. They face Duke this weekend. Should be a good game. Winner goes to the finals.
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| Blogging has officially burned out!
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| This is not my family. This is totally fictional!!!!!!Noah
October 9, 2006
House Guests
“The Guests are coming,” screams the Mom in a tone would make more sense if she were saying “the British are coming, the British are coming, man the cannons load the guns.” Or maybe “Honey, you were supposed to be at work one hour ago.” In any case her shrieks pierce the furthest reaches of the comfortable domicile and even succeed in waking the teenage Daughter but don’t quite make it to the ears of the Son whose band is rocking the world from the safety of the garage. Who knows maybe they’ll even enter the talent show this year? They might consider hiring Mom as lead singer. Breaking into the garage Mom fires her entertainment crew but quickly offers employment in the clean up crew division. The friends leave. Son however is pressed into service.
Son storms upstairs and informs Daughter that her room has been repossessed so as to be auctioned off to the Guests, he quickly and efficiently tears, rips, and yanks the sheets of the bed. He carries them downstairs to the laundry room where he finds Daughter and Mom duking it out in a cage match over the use of Daughter’s room. Although he would love to stay and watch, Son realizes its time for escape plan A, beat it out the back door to the skate park where he told his buddies he would meet them in fifteen minutes.
After appeasing Daughter by telling her she can sleep in the den (with the TV), Mom goes up to Daughters room to survey the damage. All over the place lie the carcasses of clothing. There is enough to clothe a third world country as long as it’s a warm one since each piece of clothing seems to make it a personal goal to cover as little flesh as possible. Perhaps there is a sweatshirt in the closet but probably not. Mom throws it all into Son’s room.
Half an hour and three bottles of window cleaner later the family is waiting at the front door in the usual, casual black tie dinner apparel. Washed hair and scrubbed faces greet the Guests as they pull up onto the driveway. The dinner table is set with china, and the dinner itself appears to be a four- course meal. The family waits for the guests to seat themselves before settling down to eat. They are the perfect picture of etiquette.
Americans have this strange, almost bizarre view of hosting. We like to make good (false) impressions. We don’t want people to show up and see a junk covered floor or an unmade bed. Everything needs to radiate a sense of stuffed up perfection. Maybe it would help if we tried doing it like they did in Britain during the early 1900’s, where your guests would stay for about a month or so. Of course most of those hosts had a cleaning, cooking, and gardening staff to take care of everything for them. But even if we don’t have full time staff, Americans have become talented at hiding reality in the closet or Son’s bedroom. Every family knows how to create an atmosphere of perfection in an hour or less. Its become an instinct to put on our little all-american-family makeup and act like this is how we always are.
The next day as the guests pull out the driveway everyone breaths out a sigh of relief and in the same breath Mom and Daughter start arguing as Dad quickly hops into his car and retreats to the office. Inside Son settles down with a remote control and a extra large bag of Lucky Charms. He fervently hopes this etiquette stuff doesn’t have any side effects.
© copyright 2006, Noah
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