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We Like, We Like to Party
Dec. 8th, 2003 11:24 amSo! I returned last night from my weekend of weddingness, and am here to tell you all the great and wonderful story of seeing my family.
Friday morning, 3:30 AM. I finally fall asleep for my two hours of bliss before waking up, dressing, finishing my packing, and eating cereal. I have discovered it only takes me twenty minutes to do all that, so I spent twelve minutes zipping between the window and the kitchen, trying to figure out if Daddy had shown up yet.
When he arrived and I got in the car, I encountered one of the scariest things ever. My dad was very, very sick - he told me, "I don't know if I'm going to get on the plane with you. I might just take you to the airport and drop you off." He was grey. I spent most of the trip to the airport worrying about him - we made some small talk, but not much - and most of it was to the effect of 'my dad is falling apart'. Let me tell you, that was terrifying.
So we got to the airport, and he left his bags in the car. He helped me take mine to the check-in, and explained to the assistant what was going on; the assistant had barely finished saying, "Well, you have half an hour before you have to check in - why not wait and see if it gets better?" when my dad says, "Oh... the pain is gone."
So he ran back, got his bags, and we checked in.
As we were going through the line for Customs, we notice my dad's cousin Sylvia (who will hereafter be referred to as my "Aunt Sylvia", even though she isn't) and her husband Dom in the Duty Free. We chatted in line a bit, and then made our way through Customs.
By the time we were sitting in the terminal, waiting for the plane, Daddy was grey again. That was about an hour before the plane was scheduled to take off.
The airport assistant that was seated next to the one that had helped us came by, and he asked if Daddy was still feeling okay. "No," said dad, and the assistant replied, "Well, you've got until they shut the door of the plane to decide if you want to fly or not."
Somewhere during the hour that passed, Daddy started feeling better, so we both got on the plane. On the way on, Aunt Sylvia said, "If he starts feeling sick again, you come and get me."
The guy behind her asked, "Oh, you're a nurse?"
Aunt Sylvia: "No, I'm his cousin."
That was pretty funny.
Anyway, the flight overall was nice, and Daddy and I got to catch up on the events in my family lately. Apparently, it looks like he and my stepmother will be getting divorced somewhere down the line... She's become worse at hiding her bitchiness, or it's started to bug her children and husband more. Honestly, I can't feel too bad about it - I feel sorry for Daddy and Lauren and Eddie that they have to put up with it, but overall, if they do get a divorce (and Daddy gets the kids), things would be better.
Alo, my Uncle Aldo (who is also actually my dad's cousin) is seperated from my aunt now, so he brought his girlfriend to the wedding with him. She was nice enough, though she seemed a bit... ditzy, I guess is the word. Eh. I liked her well enough, though.
So we arrived in Minneapolis, waited for my Aunt Amy and Uncle Mario (who arrived 30 minutes after we did). Then began the long, torturous drive back to the hotel, where Uncle Elio got us lost...
Anyway, so we arrived at the hotel, I got to see my Nonna (grandmother) and my Zia Ines (great-aunt), and a whole lot of other family members... I was the only one of my generation there, though. Sigh. That's always the case, I think... But it was good, because Aunt Amy helped me explain to Zia Ines: "Si parla a lei come avesse cinque anni, può capire." That is to say: "If you speak to her as though she is five years old, she can understand you." And it was true. I could talk to Zia Ines (who is like eighty or ninety and can only speak Italian). Yay! For once in my life!
Not much of note happened until that evening, though, with the rehearsal dinner. Since we got there late, I was split up from my family and seated with the other "young ones" (who were amused at being "young", being in their early-to-mid-twenties). Scott and Mark, who were going to be the ushers, and Scott's fiancée, Karen. I felt so young! But they were very nice, and also amazed at the amount of food (three appetizers, salad, lots of bread, two entrées, and dessert). I was vaguely amused. I also got complimented on my pronunciation of food (since all the titles were in Italian, as it was an Italian restaurant). Our waiter was cute. Yay!
I wound up going to bed at around 10, though I took a shower so it was really closer to 10:30, as I had not slept more than that two hours in the morning. Daddy woke me up at 8:30 the next morning with his showering, but I think I will leave Saturday for another, later post.
Friday morning, 3:30 AM. I finally fall asleep for my two hours of bliss before waking up, dressing, finishing my packing, and eating cereal. I have discovered it only takes me twenty minutes to do all that, so I spent twelve minutes zipping between the window and the kitchen, trying to figure out if Daddy had shown up yet.
When he arrived and I got in the car, I encountered one of the scariest things ever. My dad was very, very sick - he told me, "I don't know if I'm going to get on the plane with you. I might just take you to the airport and drop you off." He was grey. I spent most of the trip to the airport worrying about him - we made some small talk, but not much - and most of it was to the effect of 'my dad is falling apart'. Let me tell you, that was terrifying.
So we got to the airport, and he left his bags in the car. He helped me take mine to the check-in, and explained to the assistant what was going on; the assistant had barely finished saying, "Well, you have half an hour before you have to check in - why not wait and see if it gets better?" when my dad says, "Oh... the pain is gone."
So he ran back, got his bags, and we checked in.
As we were going through the line for Customs, we notice my dad's cousin Sylvia (who will hereafter be referred to as my "Aunt Sylvia", even though she isn't) and her husband Dom in the Duty Free. We chatted in line a bit, and then made our way through Customs.
By the time we were sitting in the terminal, waiting for the plane, Daddy was grey again. That was about an hour before the plane was scheduled to take off.
The airport assistant that was seated next to the one that had helped us came by, and he asked if Daddy was still feeling okay. "No," said dad, and the assistant replied, "Well, you've got until they shut the door of the plane to decide if you want to fly or not."
Somewhere during the hour that passed, Daddy started feeling better, so we both got on the plane. On the way on, Aunt Sylvia said, "If he starts feeling sick again, you come and get me."
The guy behind her asked, "Oh, you're a nurse?"
Aunt Sylvia: "No, I'm his cousin."
That was pretty funny.
Anyway, the flight overall was nice, and Daddy and I got to catch up on the events in my family lately. Apparently, it looks like he and my stepmother will be getting divorced somewhere down the line... She's become worse at hiding her bitchiness, or it's started to bug her children and husband more. Honestly, I can't feel too bad about it - I feel sorry for Daddy and Lauren and Eddie that they have to put up with it, but overall, if they do get a divorce (and Daddy gets the kids), things would be better.
Alo, my Uncle Aldo (who is also actually my dad's cousin) is seperated from my aunt now, so he brought his girlfriend to the wedding with him. She was nice enough, though she seemed a bit... ditzy, I guess is the word. Eh. I liked her well enough, though.
So we arrived in Minneapolis, waited for my Aunt Amy and Uncle Mario (who arrived 30 minutes after we did). Then began the long, torturous drive back to the hotel, where Uncle Elio got us lost...
Anyway, so we arrived at the hotel, I got to see my Nonna (grandmother) and my Zia Ines (great-aunt), and a whole lot of other family members... I was the only one of my generation there, though. Sigh. That's always the case, I think... But it was good, because Aunt Amy helped me explain to Zia Ines: "Si parla a lei come avesse cinque anni, può capire." That is to say: "If you speak to her as though she is five years old, she can understand you." And it was true. I could talk to Zia Ines (who is like eighty or ninety and can only speak Italian). Yay! For once in my life!
Not much of note happened until that evening, though, with the rehearsal dinner. Since we got there late, I was split up from my family and seated with the other "young ones" (who were amused at being "young", being in their early-to-mid-twenties). Scott and Mark, who were going to be the ushers, and Scott's fiancée, Karen. I felt so young! But they were very nice, and also amazed at the amount of food (three appetizers, salad, lots of bread, two entrées, and dessert). I was vaguely amused. I also got complimented on my pronunciation of food (since all the titles were in Italian, as it was an Italian restaurant). Our waiter was cute. Yay!
I wound up going to bed at around 10, though I took a shower so it was really closer to 10:30, as I had not slept more than that two hours in the morning. Daddy woke me up at 8:30 the next morning with his showering, but I think I will leave Saturday for another, later post.
