Monthly Archives: March 2009

Who keeps the Mambo?

I have a brother who I talk to almost every day on instant messenger, and another brother who I speak to once a year.  If that.  There’s been no falling out with Mambo, but we just don’t keep in touch, the same way that I don’t keep in touch with any number of people.  We’re far away, so there’s no face to face.  We don’t have a lot in common.  I hate talking on the phone.  He isn’t ever online.
Mambo is the nicest of the 3 of us.  Always has been.  He’s the most willing to do you a favor.  He isn’t a complainer.  He’s not as prickly as Joe or I are.  Even though he and Joe are the twins, I think that Joe and I are engineered on the same platform and Mambo is something else.  And so we don’t understand Mambo and his engineering.  We don’t understand why Mambo has been a waiter at Applebee’s for.. what?  10 years now?  He started doing it in college, and never stopped.  He never applied to take on managerial roles there.  And he doesn’t apply for wait jobs at higher end restaurants.  Or at restaurants that are farther than 20 miles from the middle of nowhere town where we come from.  I don’t want to judge, but I just can’t understand it.  How can he not want more?  I want to believe that he’s happy doing what he’s doing.  That he’s content.  But if it were me, I wouldn’t be.  And if our brother isn’t happy, shouldn’t we make suggestions and offer help?

Mambo went to visit Joe for a week in Seattle a few weeks ago.  Joe bought the airplane ticket and told Mambo he was coming to go skiing.  I heard (a bit from Joe and more from Nicole) that at the end of this trip, Joe offered to let Mambo come live in their finished basement for a while to try and get a new thing going.  Mambo could wait tables if he wanted to start.  And Nicole, who has been a recruiter, would try to help him get a job.  It sounds like Mambo said nothing to this offer.  He just didn’t reply.  Nicole guesses that he was offended.

This story cracks my heart.  Poor Joe, who can’t emote, who can’t relate – he tried to offer care.  To his twin, who is no way an other half.  And Mambo was hurt.  By his twin.  The genius one.  The one who our mother loves most.  The one who can do no wrong, even when he has done very, very wrong.  It’s always seemed like Mambo didn’t care about anything and that he could daydream his way out of any situation and who could let anything slide off of his back.  I guess he cared about this.
And I’m sorry, because if I had been there, I would have been doing the same thing.  I’m sorry we don’t understand.  I’m sorry that no one in my family seems to be the right sort of family that any of us ever needed.  But it’s the sweet one, the amenable Mambo, who should have someone nicer than us more than anyone else.Mambo and Jofus

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Filed under Family, Friends and other Humans

Since last week

Since last week, I had a work retreat/sleepover in Healdsburg on Thursday and Friday and then immediately left Friday night for another Tahoe snowboarding weekend.

I didn’t make out with anyone at the work thing.

I am still a big fat chicken when it comes to snowboarding.

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Filed under Up to Stuff

It sure is some Goth version of a bad sitcom

TwilightA friend of mine wanted to borrow my copy of Twilight.  I warned her that it was crack.  Sweet, sweet, wonderful crack.  But she went ahead and borrowed it. And then a few days later, she was drooling and shaking from the withdrawal, fiending at more door for the next one (who really cares what the exact title is?)

Months later, she got around to returning them and once that happened, those two books sort of sat on my dining room table, like glistening, sparkly vials of tantalizing crack.  I tried to ignore them for a few days, but then on accident, I picked up the first one.  And I started to read it.  The next thing I know, I had accidentally re-read all four of them.

book 2So now that I’ve done it a second time, I have to say what I should have said when I was reading these the first go round:  these books are such complete and utter trash, but addictive in the most wretched sort of way.  It’s a combination of trash and addiction that I would liken to the VC Andrews books.  Except without the sexual tensions and incest and periods and arsenic poisoning, because the Twilight books are written by a Mormon!  The raciest we get is some heavy breathing.  Scoff.

book 3So I am carrying around these 800 page tomes with me everywhere:  to work every day, to the nail salon, to Tahoe.  And teenage girls keep pointing out that I’ve got one and wanting to commiserate about how great they are.  And I’m all, mmm hmm… yeah, they’re super.  There’s a girl at work who would come in every day to see where I was, except that she was rather horrified that at the same time that I was scarfing my way through the books (for the SECOND time) that I was also hating them.  The first go round, I was so caught up in just being engaged in the story that my hate was minimal.  I was still skeptical and annoyed by the immediate profundity of the teenage love and just how much they wanted to DIE DIE DIE without each other.  But god damn!  What’s gonna happen next?  What WHAT WHATTT??!!!

book 4Another friend who read the series turned me on to this blog site: Occupation: Girl, which has a completely genius synopsis of all 4 books. I particularly love the bits about the fourth book, when Bella and Edward finally have sex. They are both virgins and it’s their honeymoon and it’s just so SO wholesome that I want to roll my eyeballs straight out of my head. There is no sex scene description, just a fade to black, dot dot dot, wink wink, oh isn’t it dreamy?! Swoon! But the next morning, Bella is bruised all over her body from being pounded on by the sparkly granite body of Edward. And what I loved in that blog, was that she points out that this would only have been the case from doing it missionary style. The sad Mormon sex (which was passionate as evidenced by a destroyed headboard) should certainly not involve any women on top.

It’s been a week since I finished reading.  And it still gets me all annoyed.  And sadly, the truth is, I have no doubt that a time will come that I will accidentally go plowing through all four books again.  <chagrin>

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Filed under Book crave


Because he basically lived at my apartment, we made the decision a while back that David would move in with me. We picked February 1 as the official date, and then we pretty much did nothing about it.  So that his old apartment still had a bunch of stuff in it and he felt obligated to pay his room mate there for the month’s rent.

After we conceded that we really needed to take a weekend off of Tahoe-ing to make this happen, we set a new deadline for the official move-out/move-in as March 1.  And so, I watched him sort through lots of stuff, determining what could be thrown away and what should be relegated to one of his various hiking backpacks to bring over.  Said backpacks are now in piles throughout the apartment, mingling happily with the piles of totes-o-crap that I collected from my towed away car on Sunday.  There is a certain charm rendered by a pile, at least in my apartment, anyway.

I keep saying “You’re my room mate!” to David.  And it feels funny.  Grown-up.  Even though I’ve already done this part.  But I amazed that it is real.  That he wants to live with me and my bonkers cat.  (Speaking of which, observations of David and Maple could, and maybe will, be a whole separate post.)  I get a person who makes decisions about what to eat for dinner.  And puts up shelves.  With a drill(!) no less.  A person who will pair my socks.  A person who will even go looking around in all the places that I might be inclined to discard socks, when it is time to do laundry.  I get to live with a person who will always want to sneak  onto my side of the bed, no matter how big that bed might be.

P.S. He also wipes the fogged-up bathroom mirrors with toilet paper, the lintiest material known to mankind.

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Filed under Momentousness, The David