Santa is Real, I Swear

  • Posted on December 11, 2008 at 9:56 pm

Somehow, he seems more evil than he ever did when I was a kid. Something about the eyebrows.

Somehow, he seems more evil than he ever did when I was a kid. Something about the eyebrows.

I am going to admit something embarrassing.

I believed in Santa until I was in the fourth grade. Yes, that’s right. I was nine years old. All of my friends knew the truth. In fact, it was my friend Macy and her mom who finally told me that Santa wasn’t real one December evening as we sat eating dinner at the Frisch’s Big Boy in Union Lake, Michigan. And I distinctly remember where I was when I learned the truth because it was so traumatic for me.

I just wanted to believe so badly. I loved the magic of Christmas, and I ate up all of the fantasy and excitement. I was a smart little whippersnapper, but I somehow managed to rationalize Santa’s existence. “Santa HAS to be real, because I only told Santa that I wanted a bike, and I am sure that I never told Mom and Dad.” And the old “I am SURE that when Mom and Dad went to bed there were no presents out. There has to be a Santa because I woke up before Mom and Dad and there were presents! Who else could have put them there?”

My parents endured ENDLESS questions about the existence of Santa, and never spoiled it for me, even though I’m sure they were dying to tell me the truth just to shut me up. They kept telling me that if I didn’t believe, then Santa wouldn’t come. I wanted presents, so I believed, goddamnit!

I am so excited to make Santa real again with Stella. I may not believe in the baby Jesus, but I believe in the magic of Christmas. I can’t wait to tell her all the little details that my parents and grandparents told me to make it so real, like looking for Santa’s sleigh in the starry sky on Christmas Eve. I can’t wait to put boot prints next to the fireplace and take bites out of cookies left out for Santa. I can’t wait to put out a little elf in the house and tell her that the elf is watching her and reporting back to Santa. Just like my parents did. In fact, sometimes the little elf STILL shows up mysteriously in my house. And he doesn’t even have legs anymore.

Did Pilgrams Eat Lobster?

  • Posted on November 22, 2007 at 9:08 pm

For the first time ever, Larry and I decided not to go to Indiana to spend Thanksgiving with our family. Instead, to save money and vacation days, we stayed in DC and had our own little private Thanksgiving. We contemplated going to a restaurant, but decided on something even better: lobster. (I’m not a huge fan of turkey anyway; I enjoy the side dishes more than the meat on Thanksgiving.)

Yesterday, we saw the seafood guys set up on the corner down the street, selling lobsters, fish and shellfish out of coolers, straight off the truck from Maine. We bought two on a whim (total weight almost six pounds!!). We named them Rod and Todd. They lived in our fridge for a day, which was kind of weird. I wanted to feed them some breakfast and give them a little bowl of water to drink, because I was worried they might die, but Larry told me not to worry about it. I would not, however, touch them. Ew.
Look What's In The Fridge
Todd and Rod in the fridge

Rod(Rhoda) and Tod(Tina)
Todd and Rod on the Counter

Where Lobsters go to Die
Where Lobsters Go to Die

Death of a Lobster
Death of a Lobster

Boiling Lobster
Boiling Lobsters

Happy Thanksgiving
The Spread: Lobsters, Clams, Polenta, Peas and Butter (P.S. those are 10 inch plates, to give you an idea of how ENORMOUS the lobsters were)
Better than Turkey
Better Than Turkey

Chocolate Pecan Pie
Dessert: Chocolate Pecan Pie

It turned out that Rod and Todd were actually Tina and Rhoda. Oops. I had Tina, and she was soooo good, probably the best lobster I’ve ever had. I’d like to make it a family tradition on Thanksgiving, but once the baby is born, we probably won’t be splurging on lobster.

Every Night I Burn

  • Posted on October 30, 2007 at 9:04 pm

Happy Devil’s Night!

Where I grew up outside of Detroit, the night before Halloween was Devil’s Night. In Detroit, the city burns on Devil’s Night. You don’t leave the house after dark. There is a city curfew. If you made the mistake of leaving your jack-o-lanterns outside, you can bet that they will be smashed in the street the next morning. (I remember¬† being crushed one year when I discovered that my masterpiece was destroyed–I felt so victimized. And I surely blamed my parents for not putting the pumpkins inside for the night.)¬† You also might have toilet paper in your trees and eggs smashed on the side of your house when you wake up.
It was only when I moved away from Michigan that I discovered that this phenomenon is unique to Detroit. I seriously thought that it was a National Holiday.
It’s been over 13 years since I moved away. Who knows, maybe Detroit finally has Devil’s Night under control.

Independence Day

  • Posted on July 4, 2007 at 6:20 pm

Happy 4th of July from Carmel, Indiana!

Happy Fourth of July