twinkle twinkle blah blah blah etc.

The year in pictures

Here's a rundown of what I've been up to.

The holidays can be a frustrating time for many people. In my family, we have a bit of a tradition that began about the time my father left my mother. Drinking begins shortly after halfheartedly wrapped presents, pricetags still dangling, are opened, and continues throughout the day while my mother starts noodling around in the kitchen on some dessert she will pronounce "ruined" later on in the day. Preparations for Christmas dinner generally begin in earnest around 7:30 pm. Sometimes we'll have scrambled eggs (complemented by Vendange chardonnay or whatever was on sale at the Price Chopper) or (and this was more common when she was on the antipsychotics) she'll yank some pork chops out of the freezer, throw them on the dining room table, douse the whole thing with kerosene, and light it on fire.

Inevitably, after we eat, there is the Post-Christmas Dinner Meltdown and the cigarettes smoked silent and bitterly. And then dessert is ruined.

So I have no pictures of Christmas, per se.

Except for this. This was down the road from my mother. Sadly, the composition and focus leave something to be desired, but this was the best I could achieve before the owner came running out of his house with a gun (what turned out to be a starter pistol, but still).

The next day, as you may have guessed from the first photo, I shot guns. First up was a muzzleloading 50 gauge rifle.

That yellow stuff is called bore butter. I managed to hit the paint can twice.

This was a loud gun, though it didn't have as much kick as I'd expected. So P went and got his double-barrel shotgun that had originally belonged to his great uncle. "This oughtta do the trick," he said gamely, to which I replied, "WHAT?" (That's just abt all I said that day, as P insisted that ear protection was for pussies.)

Loading a shotgun is more fun than loading a muzzle-loading rifle. There's that satisfying crack when you snap it all into place.

Yes indeed, this gun had a bit more kick. P was kind enough to give me a shorter barrel than the one he ordinarily used. It's easier to hit a target with a shotgun, as it turns out. Though the closer you are, the better.

After a while we got cold and so we decided to go in and drink some more beers.

A few days later I came back down into the city to resume my catsitting duties. I took this picture on the subway on New Year's Eve eve. It was wheatpasted on the door of the W.

I wholeheartedly agree with this statement. Newborns, being somewhat suggestible and lacking the ability to focus their eyes and hold their heads up on their own, cannot consent to such things. I should know! When my aunt's son was born, he was hoodwinked into ordering a number of pewter Civil War portraits from the Franklin Mint. Stop the madness.

Then I came back down to the city and had the absolute pleasure of meeting the Old Hag, who is neither old nor haglike. She was truly delightful and promises to come back to sing karaoke.

I've already told you about New Years and mercifully there are no photos documenting it.

Finally, my best friend from high school had her baby on the 2nd. I drove upstate to see her the day after. When I walked into her hospital room she groggily announced "Look who's here! Auntie Dana!"

"I think 'Miss Dana' has a nicer ring to it, don't you? Less, ah, old-ish?"

Then she did the fool thing of letting me hold the little wrinkly pink being.

Welcome, Paige Marie. Come find me when you're 16, I'll buy you booze.

This doesn't have anything to do with anything, but sometime last week I had a dream that I was squiring the Olsen Twins around Jeffrey. Sort of as an ambassador to NYU. I don't get it either.

Posted by Dana at January 7, 2004 09:27 AM