St. Patrick’s Day Reminds Me…

Of Jazz, who wears a shirt asking me to kiss him for luck.

Of Carter, who came out on this day.

Of Alec, who calls Carter the love of his life.

Of pub crawls I can — and can’t — remember well.

Of listening to a group of brawny men sing “Danny Boy” with such mournful beauty that it made me cry and smile at the same time.

Of a dress my mother had that was covered with tiny shamrocks and how we’d search the yard for four-leafed clovers among the grass.

Regardless of whether you celebrate in green or orange or not at all, I hope you have a memorable day <3

http://youtu.be/JY2bujHpxFY

It Wasn’t Brokeback, But It Was Close

I know it’s Alec’s day, but since he features heavily in this story, he’s letting me have this day to post :)

So I mentioned on Google+ that my dad was really upset to learn Leonard Nimoy had died. I predicted he’d want to watch some of the Star Trek shows or movies in memorial — since that’s what Dad remembers Nimoy for best — and I was right.

Sunday is the day we usually get together for dinner, Jazz and me, my dad, Grams and Edgar. This time, Carter and Alec came too, since they’re sort of Trekkie fans.

Now one of the most moving scenes in the movies — and I’ve seen them all — is in The Wrath of Khan when Spock sacrifices himself for the rest of the crew by entering a chamber that will kill him with radiation. I cry every single time I see it.

"I have, and shall always be, your friend."

“I have, and shall always be, your friend.”

But there’s also a scene where poor Chekov gets a wiggly scorpion-looking thing inserted into his head. There’s a lot of screaming. Mostly from me. I think I saw it first when I was too young or something because OMG has the horror stuck with me.

So I both love and loathe that movie.

This time, I’ve decided to just leave the room until that bit’s over, distract myself, hands over my ears, la-la I can’t hear you! Then, suddenly, pounce and squeeze, there’s this stealthy Marine attempting to hug me until my head pops off. WTH?! But, OK, Alec hugs. Yay. A twist to realign my spine once he lets me go and I’m fine. And, hey, I missed that awful part in the movie, so everything’s great.

Later on, I get up for more tissues — it’s an ugly cry kinda thing — and wham! Another death hug. This time, I’m lifted off my feet and spun around. I imagine it might be like what crocodiles do to their prey, but without water. A bigger squeeze, and then he’s gone again.

I’m starting to get twitchy. Maybe I shouldn’t leave the room alone? And he doesn’t say a word, even though I ask what’s going on (once I get my breath back). So now I’m keeping an eye on him, tracking his movements, and losing track of what’s happening in the third movie — which I like for the young Spock needing him some sex so he doesn’t die.

Once that movie’s over and before we put on the fourth — the one with the whales which is so cute — we all move into the kitchen or thereabouts and claim our snacks and drinks. The room’s crowded and yet…pounce and squeeze! Swear to God, something popped in my spine and my left leg went numb for a second there.

Then Jazz is all, “Dude, why are you molesting my husband?”

Alec smirks and says, “Kris G asked me to.”

Excuse me? Yes, folks, you read that right: our own unassuming Kris G asked Alec to hug the stuffing out of me. And he did it. Takes orders well, doesn’t he? Bastard. He made me forget to blog, too.

Of course, then the guys are all about “that’s not molesting, this is molesting” and I’m running around the house trying not to smothered to death.

Or at least pretending I don’t want the attention of a bunch of burly guys trying to hug me ;)

Group hug? Yes, please.

Group hug? Yes, please.

Buttonholes

Grams Quote:

You have to be careful with buttonholes. You want uniform wrinkles. Nobody likes a loose buttonhole either. And you just can’t work a tight buttonhole right. Loosening it up can be a pain. So you have to take care with buttonholes.

Happy Birthday, Thorny

I know I’ve been crabby for each of my birthdays now that I’m over 30, but I couldn’t believe it when Thorny lamented that he was “getting old”. When did 23 become old? I’m sending this image back to you, babe, because it says exactly what the two of us can do with our oldness.
growoldwithyou

Happy birthday, Thorny! <3

Alec’s Christmas

I’m posting today since tomorrow is New Year’s Eve and Thursday is when T and I’ll talk about plans for 2015.

I’m betting you’re all curious about whether there were any Slutty McSluttersons this year…and there were. The new part was who got busy where: hosts Sophie and Jack were spotted in their own gazebo, my parents found a new use for the pantry, and Carter’s parents discovered the attic. I have a feeling there’s been a lot of sex going on at these family gatherings that’s managed to fly under the radar before now. But since it’s been feeling freakishly spring-like lately, apparently a few folks’ randiness got to be too much for any kind of discretion.

Tucker, Sophie and Jack’s youngest at 8, has declared me his boyfriend, though our love is such that I’m allowed to keep being with Carter. Honestly, that kid’s just adorable and if he wants to get and give hugs and tell me he loves me, I’m not going to stop him. Maybe he’s making a move toward his ultimate sexuality and maybe he’s just a sweetheart. I’ll give him all the affection he needs since I’m sure someone else will eventually turn his head in a few years.

While we were away, my friend Doug stayed at our place. His parents are here and didn’t have room in their house because of his sister’s new family coming in from Montana. Since he lives in Cleveland, which is an inconvenient daily trek, and we needed someone to cat-sit Ben, it was mutually convenient for Doug to use our house. He left a note letting us know he’ll be getting a cat ASAP because he had no idea they were so great. Ben’s converted his first Dog Person. I’m so proud.

Ben peeking at me.

Ben peeking at me.