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Larry cartoon in the Archives page by onlyone.
Diary of a 
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(January 01, 2003) Absolute Zero In a true display of I-am-my-mother's-daughter, I just washed my dishes and piled them to dry in an impressive teetering stack. This tower-of-power method of dish-drying is a tradition in my family. It's a real skill. Really-- since what gets created is an improvised sink-side sculpture of gleaming pans and bowls and flatware with no center of gravity. When I was little, my parents (who posess the ability to repeat the exact same conversation again and again until everyone around them knows it by heart) would argue about it all the time. The basic script starts with a deafening CRASH! from the general sink area, followed by Louie's exasperated "JoAnn!" followed by my mother's cool retort that it would be fine if we'd all leave it alone. "Leave it alone" seems to mean avoid walking, talking, or breathing, since any of those activities would cause (drum roll, please)...PANALANCHE ! ! ! ________________________________________ I can tell that my mother feels bad about usurping our family Christmas Eve dinner and Trivial Pursuit tournament and inviting a full-on barn-burner party instead. I mean, it was cool to see some of my brother's friends. Mike's one of those guys that makes a friend for life, so the little boys he used to hang with in middle school and high school are mostly still around. They're not little anymore though. They're big huge men. Some are bald. Some are married. It's weird. But still, it's not the same thing at all as having some time to chill out and catch up. So JoAnna left me a voicemail yesterday (New Year's Eve) saying that she's making a shrimp sauce with fresh linguine if we wanted to come over. Yeah sure, I'll just hop in the car...mom, you live three hours away, dude, when have I just popped over for pasta? Then today (New Year's Day...Happy New Year, by the way) she called to say she's got a turkey in the oven and Hub and I are welcome. Sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, stuffing (no, I can't imagine where my weight problem originated). I called her back. "How come you made a turkey?" "It's nice to have a turkey," she said. You know something? It really is. ________________________________________
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