Family Matters
There’s something about my nutty family that brings me complete serenity, namely my cousin Nicole. My first memories of Nicole are from a period in time where she thought I was her baby doll, me two years old and her four. Constantly running after me and struggling to raise me into the air, she toyed with my hair and helped my mom dress me. Within the years that followed I morphed into the baby cousin (youngest of three girls who had only two years between them) who was easiest to manipulate and most likely to be tortured, bringing on what I would call a love/hate relationship between us… Took me a while but I finally got over the claustrophobia caused by Nicole and our older cousin Danielle laying on top of me while holding my nose. Fun times. When high school came around we all finally reached a happy medium and Nicole became my partner in crime, accompanying me on many an exploration in my senior year of high school. From then on she’s been more like my sister than a cousin. She’s there to hear me beef and has a completely original ability to make me laugh and act delirious when there is not a drop of alcohol in my system. Tonight was no different.
Needing an escape from my life I drove to Nicole’s house in what I think was rain/snow/slushy stuff. When I had phoned her before driving over she had told me her parents were headed out to dinner. Under the impression that twenty minutes had been enough time for them to depart, I rang the doorbell furiously upon my arrival at her home. I jumped up and down waving my arms in front of the peep hole anticipating her usual rant of curses and screams at my impatience. Instead a stranger opened the door and I blushed bright red.
“Hi, umm… I’m Nicole’s cousin.” Twenty years later and this bitch was still setting me up for torture and humiliation. It turns out the startled woman was Nicole’s neighbor with whom her parents were to dine. I smiled my way through the neighbors, kissing Nicole’s parents hello/goodbye and asking where the pain in my ass was. “Upstairs”. Throwing open her door I glared at her playfully and she laughed in my face. “Jerk.”
I settled down on her floor and was quickly captivated by the ABC family movie I always find myself watching in her room, whether it’s Home Alone, Parent Trap or Stepmom. Nicole distractingly began to dance around in a new jacket she had just purchased from TJ Maxx. I never understand how this girl miraculously finds brands like DKNY and Calvin Klein when I can’t dig up more than no name, non-matching, neon colored crap. The chocolate corduroy jacket with fake sherpa lining fit her perfectly and I marveled at the price tag of $20. “They have it in medium too (she’s a size small if not smaller),” she said to me. “Well that only means one thing,” I said, and immediately she began to pack her purse and put on the new jacket. Another thing Nicole’s is good at: bargain shopping.
The snow/rain/slushy/yukky stuff had turned into hard rain as we sprinted across the TJ Maxx parking lot. Once inside she bee lined for the coat racks and began her impeccable search for my medium sized jacket. In the mean time I walked along a line of sad looking blazers. Within minutes Nicole was at my side with jacket in hand. She gave it to me and when I complained about there not being a mirror for me to see myself in, she pushed aside a huge potted plant revealing a once hidden wall mirror. So resourceful she is. The jacket was a perfect fit and I realized that if I ever make tons of money I will hire Nicole to walk around with me when I shop to be my good luck charm. Similarly in Payless her presence lead me to a decent looking pair of black kitten heels that I need for the long hours I’ll be playing receptionist at the convention next week. I turned to her and said, “Bless you child, you are my savior.”
After a nasty bout with a KFC drive through waitress (who I’m sure spit in my coleslaw), we took some cooked food back to Nicole’s house and chowed down. I stopped to ask what exactly is in coleslaw?
“What do you mean what’s in the coleslaw? Why don’t you just eat it?” she laughed at me hysterically, mentioning something about the look on my face as I stared at the runny white, orange, green stuff on my plate.
“But what’s in it?” I asked again, not understanding why it was so funny.
“There’s nothing in it, it’s just coleslaw.”
“But these are carrots, right?” I asked picking up an orange string with my fork.
“Yes, carrots, cabbage and watery mayo.”
“Well that’s what I meant, dumbass,” I said to her.
“Oh you meant the ingredients,” she laughed harder now.
I began to laugh as well, “Jesus, did I have to say ingredients? Why are you so proper? I meant in as in what’s it made of! God, Nicole.” We were both laughing so hard I ended up spray spitting on the coleslaw myself and never managed to eat any.
Once the food was digested we decided spontaneous dancing would help burn off some of the extra crispy crust calories. Busta Rhymes boomed over a technotronic beat and I moved robotically as if I really knew what I was doing. In my own little world I was doing just fine. Nicole was shaking around and dropping her ass to the floor every time the beat dropped for the chorus. It was a full on party regardless of the fact that the only participants were two twenty-something idiots and a couple of stuffed Tiggers. The cramps that occur from not fully digesting your food before creative dance sessions overcame both of us and we settled down to some softer music. Nicole lit candles all over the room and I began to wonder if she was trying to seduce me. “No jerk off,” she said, “I’m trying to make it look more like a beach.”
“A beach?”
“Yea, you never noticed my beach theme? Over here is the sun mirror, and these bamboo trees are like palm trees and (I was already hysterical laughing at this point) see this frame (she brings over a frame to me) it has seashells. See?”
Between bouts of laughter I told her I saw just fine, but that I still thought she was nuts. She played what she thought would be a Relaxing Sounds of the Ocean and Jungle CD, except every time I got used to the rhythm of the ocean or the harmony of the grasshoppers a sharp piano or drum would start playing that totally fucked up my Fen Shui (sp?) vibe. “What is this shit?” I asked.
“Relaxing sounds by Yankee Candle.”
“No wonder, what would a company that makes inaudible objects know about the sounds of nature?”
Regardless of how non-relaxing the CD turned out to be, I was suddenly very sleepy. “I think its time for me to turn back into Clara Kent.”
“You gonna be ok?” she asked me.
I smiled at her and realized that no matter what these next few months bring, there are people in my life, Nicole in particular, that can make everything just seem right if only for a moment, and it is in that moment that I am able to regain my clarity. Feeling much better I told her, “yes” gave her a hug and headed home.
Needing an escape from my life I drove to Nicole’s house in what I think was rain/snow/slushy stuff. When I had phoned her before driving over she had told me her parents were headed out to dinner. Under the impression that twenty minutes had been enough time for them to depart, I rang the doorbell furiously upon my arrival at her home. I jumped up and down waving my arms in front of the peep hole anticipating her usual rant of curses and screams at my impatience. Instead a stranger opened the door and I blushed bright red.
“Hi, umm… I’m Nicole’s cousin.” Twenty years later and this bitch was still setting me up for torture and humiliation. It turns out the startled woman was Nicole’s neighbor with whom her parents were to dine. I smiled my way through the neighbors, kissing Nicole’s parents hello/goodbye and asking where the pain in my ass was. “Upstairs”. Throwing open her door I glared at her playfully and she laughed in my face. “Jerk.”
I settled down on her floor and was quickly captivated by the ABC family movie I always find myself watching in her room, whether it’s Home Alone, Parent Trap or Stepmom. Nicole distractingly began to dance around in a new jacket she had just purchased from TJ Maxx. I never understand how this girl miraculously finds brands like DKNY and Calvin Klein when I can’t dig up more than no name, non-matching, neon colored crap. The chocolate corduroy jacket with fake sherpa lining fit her perfectly and I marveled at the price tag of $20. “They have it in medium too (she’s a size small if not smaller),” she said to me. “Well that only means one thing,” I said, and immediately she began to pack her purse and put on the new jacket. Another thing Nicole’s is good at: bargain shopping.
The snow/rain/slushy/yukky stuff had turned into hard rain as we sprinted across the TJ Maxx parking lot. Once inside she bee lined for the coat racks and began her impeccable search for my medium sized jacket. In the mean time I walked along a line of sad looking blazers. Within minutes Nicole was at my side with jacket in hand. She gave it to me and when I complained about there not being a mirror for me to see myself in, she pushed aside a huge potted plant revealing a once hidden wall mirror. So resourceful she is. The jacket was a perfect fit and I realized that if I ever make tons of money I will hire Nicole to walk around with me when I shop to be my good luck charm. Similarly in Payless her presence lead me to a decent looking pair of black kitten heels that I need for the long hours I’ll be playing receptionist at the convention next week. I turned to her and said, “Bless you child, you are my savior.”
After a nasty bout with a KFC drive through waitress (who I’m sure spit in my coleslaw), we took some cooked food back to Nicole’s house and chowed down. I stopped to ask what exactly is in coleslaw?
“What do you mean what’s in the coleslaw? Why don’t you just eat it?” she laughed at me hysterically, mentioning something about the look on my face as I stared at the runny white, orange, green stuff on my plate.
“But what’s in it?” I asked again, not understanding why it was so funny.
“There’s nothing in it, it’s just coleslaw.”
“But these are carrots, right?” I asked picking up an orange string with my fork.
“Yes, carrots, cabbage and watery mayo.”
“Well that’s what I meant, dumbass,” I said to her.
“Oh you meant the ingredients,” she laughed harder now.
I began to laugh as well, “Jesus, did I have to say ingredients? Why are you so proper? I meant in as in what’s it made of! God, Nicole.” We were both laughing so hard I ended up spray spitting on the coleslaw myself and never managed to eat any.
Once the food was digested we decided spontaneous dancing would help burn off some of the extra crispy crust calories. Busta Rhymes boomed over a technotronic beat and I moved robotically as if I really knew what I was doing. In my own little world I was doing just fine. Nicole was shaking around and dropping her ass to the floor every time the beat dropped for the chorus. It was a full on party regardless of the fact that the only participants were two twenty-something idiots and a couple of stuffed Tiggers. The cramps that occur from not fully digesting your food before creative dance sessions overcame both of us and we settled down to some softer music. Nicole lit candles all over the room and I began to wonder if she was trying to seduce me. “No jerk off,” she said, “I’m trying to make it look more like a beach.”
“A beach?”
“Yea, you never noticed my beach theme? Over here is the sun mirror, and these bamboo trees are like palm trees and (I was already hysterical laughing at this point) see this frame (she brings over a frame to me) it has seashells. See?”
Between bouts of laughter I told her I saw just fine, but that I still thought she was nuts. She played what she thought would be a Relaxing Sounds of the Ocean and Jungle CD, except every time I got used to the rhythm of the ocean or the harmony of the grasshoppers a sharp piano or drum would start playing that totally fucked up my Fen Shui (sp?) vibe. “What is this shit?” I asked.
“Relaxing sounds by Yankee Candle.”
“No wonder, what would a company that makes inaudible objects know about the sounds of nature?”
Regardless of how non-relaxing the CD turned out to be, I was suddenly very sleepy. “I think its time for me to turn back into Clara Kent.”
“You gonna be ok?” she asked me.
I smiled at her and realized that no matter what these next few months bring, there are people in my life, Nicole in particular, that can make everything just seem right if only for a moment, and it is in that moment that I am able to regain my clarity. Feeling much better I told her, “yes” gave her a hug and headed home.
posted by Elle J at 10:43 AM
2 Comments:
Awww, great story. I feel the same way about Caro and Nataly. I don't know what i would do with out them. They are no longer my cousins they are now my sisters.
Love your post...I have a best friend who I consider a sister. We have been through it all, and like you and your cousin, we can get crazy silly for no reason at all.
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