Thanksgiving Night Football

 

Laban!  Laban!  

 Exhibit A:  Distorted leg and foot of a non-player

The Jets clobbered the Bengals at the new Meadowlands Stadium Thursday night.  My dad wanted so badly to see a Jets game so there we went.  It was exhilarating watching all those crazed, maniacal fans drinking beer and having a party even before the game started.

Me:  May I have a regular Budweiser, please?

Smart lady selling beer:  Can I see your ID?

Me:  What?  I'm 31.  (Pause.  It dawned on me that she just gave me a compliment.  Julia Roberts smile, eyes beaming.)  Can my mom buy it for me?

The Goo-gen-heim

I was itching to go back to work this past Monday and Linda already told me I could go back for Monday and Tuesday.  But of course, the asswipe Roberto intervened and told me they don't need me.  I would've had the decency to feel hurt with that insensitive statement then I remembered it was the cowardly skunk who uttered it.  So I shrugged it off, though I felt a little uneasy that I might not have a job next week.  I'm sorry for comparing him to a skunk, the man should be so lucky. 

Anyway, we finally went to the Guggenheim on Monday, the museum I am most intrigued by because of its awesome swirly shape.  I got to practice my art-lover poseur pensive look staring at all those Picasso, Degas, and Chagall paintings.

Dad has all the other photos and it's just typical that he forgot to bring the essentials so I can download it on my laptop. 

Cloistered

So my parents are here with me and I feel like I've never been separated from them for more than a year.  My mom had the brilliant idea that we go to the Cloisters in uppermost Manhattan beside the Hudson River.

It was gorgeous!  The museum itself was beside the point.  It was exceedingly boring, it was like these people had too much old French furniture and decided it would be profitable to pair up with The Met and put up a mausoleum/museum.  But the view...  Oh my egad!  The view!

Travel Light

Miguel, my Salvadorian English student, was in one of his serious talk moods last night.  Haha.  He asked me, "Charisse, how come you look like you don't have any problems?  Everything seems not so heavy for you.  You always smile and laugh."  I am phrasing it on how I understood his question.  Good question, huh.

I wanted to tell him, "Because I want to travel light.  Crying doesn't fix things, though I cry a lot.  Because I come from a naturally happy, crazy family."  As my dad said, "Happiness comes to those who seek them."  Or was it Yoda who said that?  I didn't get to answer him, throngs of customers suddenly packed the deli.

Which reminds me, I haven't thanked my parents enough for bringing me up the way they did and for growing up with my sibs.  Everything is lighter because of them, my seven samurais.