aunt michelle Yesterday, after more than a decade of procrastination, I finally finished Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. It's just one of those books you have to get into the swing of, I guess, but once you get used the language and the story, it's really something. As with the best books, I got to the point where I forgot that I was reading, and stopped even seeing the page with the printed words in front of me. It was like watching a movie in my head. Now I have to go to some Dorethea Lange exhibit to round out the experience. We just got back from another weekend visiting with Joe's sister and her kids in Baltimore. We all had a good time, we with the humans, and Cooper with the three other dogs there. She especially had a good time wrestling with Sally, the family's Great Dane puppy, who, despite being three times the size of The Coop, was evenly matched with our runt because The Coop is a monster in the ring. They chase each other around barking and play bite each other on the face and mouth, looking almost like they're fighting, but follow after each other with doggy love, wagging their tails whenever we tried to pull them apart. This morning, Joe's two year-old nephew (I guess soon to be my two year old nephew) found one of Cooper's teeth on the floor. (He then tried to eat it.) I guess Cooper lost one of her baby teeth while kicking some Marmaduke ass. Who knew dogs lost their baby teeth? I guess it makes sense, but I just never thought about it. The kids call me "Aunt Michelle." It sounds strange to me, because it's kind of a new thing. Being the oldest in my family, I hadn't been anyone's aunt before now. When I think about "Aunt Michelle," I think of a middle aged woman driving a teal minivan and wearing Keds. But I am determined to be the cool, non-old aunt. I will buy them beer and weed. (Heh.) The other funny thing about the kids is that I don't think that they've ever really spent any appreciable amount of time with Asian people before. The two year old (J) couldn't care less, but the four year-old (K) is just starting to figure things out, and it's throwing her for a loop. Joe's sister told us that she took K to a natural history museum a few weeks ago, where there were many exhibits about Asian culture, set up with mannequins and everything. In front of every display case, K would ask, "Is that Aunt Michelle?" Heh. (Only they were afraid to tell me that story, thinking that I might get all offended for some reason.) And yesterday night, K was examining the cover of Time magazine's issue on alternative health and holistic medicine, featuring a crop-haired Asian woman doing yoga. "Is that you with a haircut?" she asked me. Damn, I only wish it was me, and that I could pull off a short haircut like that. Every once in a while, I get it in my head that it would be great to cut my hair short. So sassy, so low maintenance, so different from my current haircut, which has not changed since 1997. When this has happened in the past, and I followed through with my impulse, I realize that I totally do not have either the hair texture or face shape for short hair, and that I have made a big mistake. A horrible, ugly mistake that I have to live with for the next few months. But by the time my hair grows out again, I forget all about it and start to think about getting my hair cut short again. Now, my current train of thought, is, "I'll keep growing it long until the wedding, and then afterwards, before my internship starts, bam, G.I. Jane." Someone please talk me out of it. I need an intervention. I had such a good time going to the movies by myself last week that I'm going to do it again and again for the rest of the month, until I've seen every movie that I want to see but that Joe doesn't. So far on my list is "Far From Heaven" (tomorrow), "Adaptation," "Road to Perdition," "Chicago," and "Lord of the Rings" (though I'll probably see that with Joe, because he's a glutton for punishment, despite falling dead asleep during the first part of the trilogy). And I guess, if I'm feeling responsible, I'll drag myself to see "The Hours," even though I really don't want to. I'm sure I would enjoy it, it just seems so chick-flick and Vagina Monologues to me. It's like the Oprah's Book List effect. Seeing that sticker on a book makes me want to read it less, not more. I don't want to be locked in the dark with crying ladies. xo Michelle |
Sunday . January 19 . 2003 . 5:52pm |
aunt michelle Yesterday, after more than a decade of procrastination, I finally finished Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. It's just one of those books you have to get into the swing of, I guess, but once you get used the language and the story, it's really something. As with the best books, I got to the point where I forgot that I was reading, and stopped even seeing the page with the printed words in front of me. It was like watching a movie in my head. Now I have to go to some Dorethea Lange exhibit to round out the experience. We just got back from another weekend visiting with Joe's sister and her kids in Baltimore. We all had a good time, we with the humans, and Cooper with the three other dogs there. She especially had a good time wrestling with Sally, the family's Great Dane puppy, who, despite being three times the size of The Coop, was evenly matched with our runt because The Coop is a monster in the ring. They chase each other around barking and play bite each other on the face and mouth, looking almost like they're fighting, but follow after each other with doggy love, wagging their tails whenever we tried to pull them apart. This morning, Joe's two year-old nephew (I guess soon to be my two year old nephew) found one of Cooper's teeth on the floor. (He then tried to eat it.) I guess Cooper lost one of her baby teeth while kicking some Marmaduke ass. Who knew dogs lost their baby teeth? I guess it makes sense, but I just never thought about it. The kids call me "Aunt Michelle." It sounds strange to me, because it's kind of a new thing. Being the oldest in my family, I hadn't been anyone's aunt before now. When I think about "Aunt Michelle," I think of a middle aged woman driving a teal minivan and wearing Keds. But I am determined to be the cool, non-old aunt. I will buy them beer and weed. (Heh.) The other funny thing about the kids is that I don't think that they've ever really spent any appreciable amount of time with Asian people before. The two year old (J) couldn't care less, but the four year-old (K) is just starting to figure things out, and it's throwing her for a loop. Joe's sister told us that she took K to a natural history museum a few weeks ago, where there were many exhibits about Asian culture, set up with mannequins and everything. In front of every display case, K would ask, "Is that Aunt Michelle?" Heh. (Only they were afraid to tell me that story, thinking that I might get all offended for some reason.) And yesterday night, K was examining the cover of Time magazine's issue on alternative health and holistic medicine, featuring a crop-haired Asian woman doing yoga. "Is that you with a haircut?" she asked me. Damn, I only wish it was me, and that I could pull off a short haircut like that. Every once in a while, I get it in my head that it would be great to cut my hair short. So sassy, so low maintenance, so different from my current haircut, which has not changed since 1997. When this has happened in the past, and I followed through with my impulse, I realize that I totally do not have either the hair texture or face shape for short hair, and that I have made a big mistake. A horrible, ugly mistake that I have to live with for the next few months. But by the time my hair grows out again, I forget all about it and start to think about getting my hair cut short again. Now, my current train of thought, is, "I'll keep growing it long until the wedding, and then afterwards, before my internship starts, bam, G.I. Jane." Someone please talk me out of it. I need an intervention. I had such a good time going to the movies by myself last week that I'm going to do it again and again for the rest of the month, until I've seen every movie that I want to see but that Joe doesn't. So far on my list is "Far From Heaven" (tomorrow), "Adaptation," "Road to Perdition," "Chicago," and "Lord of the Rings" (though I'll probably see that with Joe, because he's a glutton for punishment, despite falling dead asleep during the first part of the trilogy). And I guess, if I'm feeling responsible, I'll drag myself to see "The Hours," even though I really don't want to. I'm sure I would enjoy it, it just seems so chick-flick and Vagina Monologues to me. It's like the Oprah's Book List effect. Seeing that sticker on a book makes me want to read it less, not more. I don't want to be locked in the dark with crying ladies. xo Michelle |
