Thursday, June 23, 2005

I've Been Playing Unwellness Games.

How did I get so lucky? Who wouldn't want to be horse?




You're a Horse!

Versatile, powerful, and true, you have quite a reputation for hard work and a certain unbridled spirit. Many look up to you as an example of what people can really become, though somewhere deep down, you admit to feeling a little bit broken. You hate racing, but are still exceptionally good at it. Beware broken legs, dog food, and glue. If your name is Ed, you do a surprising amount of talking.


Take the Animal Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Hello, My Name is...


family reunion
Originally uploaded by mactechwitch.

Just returned from a first annual family reunion in Red Bank, NJ.

My husband, Tim's family is, well, huge. He's one of 12 children and his father was one of 14. There are 242 (214 living and 2 more expected any day) descendants of his paternal grandparents. This reunion was the result of a plan that was hatched at the funeral of Tim's aunt Ann, about six months ago. Distressed by the fact that funerals have become their main reason for gathering, some of the more organized optimists in attendance actually followed through and pulled this off.

About 8 weeks ago I received an e-mail with a three-page attachment detailing the various events of the weekend, their cost and a request for a check to be mailed to the chief organized optimist by a certain date.

OK here’s the thing, I seem to have trouble with e-mail attachments that are important, contain instructions and are impossibly LONG! Take the weekly regs. Its militaristic moniker bugs me to begin with. It’s our school’s list of events, instructions, directions, changes in the schedule and otherwise essential information that arrives every Friday afternoon, as you are about to walk out the door. I know the smart people just don’t even look at it, or at least they don’t look at it until Monday. But I can’t stop myself. I can’t have a red flag on my mailbox. I check my e-mail a pathological number of times a day (and night.) Those regs are opened and the attachment is downloaded within five minutes of its sending. But even so, do I read them? Eh – not really. They’re too damned boring and detailed.

I reacted to this family reunion attachment as if it were a particularly onerous weekly reg like the ones that come around the spring festival or the fourth grade play. I did send in the check (only a little late) for the Saturday night barbeque. All the other details on those reunion instructions made my eyes blur. Reunion t-shirts? Sizes? Five-mile race entries? Beach reservations? Picnic? Communion breakfast? Late night fist fight anyone? The whole thing was a la carte to avoid forcing anyone in this notoriously frugal clan to pay for any service they did not want. I wound up having to beg my husband to get his uncle to sell him a family directory at the door (which I neglected to order and prepay as the unread instructions specified.)

Well it turned out to be really fun, even though we didn’t get t-shirts (sorry you had to order and pay ahead.)