Ultimate

Frank was flipping through the channels, using the "Guide" feature, and I saw a show called "Ultimate", which was about the growing interest in this "dangerous" sport. What? That doesn't make any sense. Frank said, "Ultimate fighting" and flipped to the channel to show me what was on. Ah, I see. Why did they just call it ultimate, then? There is no trademark on "fighting".

More on Funerals

My great uncle Bob died. I liked Bob, after I was old enough to appreciate his humor. As a kid, I didn't realize that he was kidding often as he took jabs at us, so I was wary of him. One time when Bob said something to Jessie and I was a little horrified by it and Dad laughed, I realized that it was a joke and then I understood. His style is now one part of my delivery--saying things with a straight face and letting others realize you're kidding or being ridiculous. Bob married into the Sprenkles. Since he was so funny, that was also a surprise to me. Bob was also an avid Orioles fan. During the last week, he was concerned about the Orioles recent trades, including the possibility of trading Brian Roberts.

I did not attend his funeral. I probably should have. My mom said something strange: "It was a nice funeral. I think you would have liked it." Huh? I didn't think I was really rating funerals...

Funerals...

I'm not real good at funerals. I tend to cry a lot. That may not be that unusual. Do you remember Love Actually and Liam Neeson's character's wife's funeral at the beginning of the movie? We hadn't met the wife, but I cried. Kristina didn't understand why I cried. I can't help it; funerals are sad. I don't consciously think about other funerals I've attended or anything. It's just a gut reaction, an overload of emotions--I cry.

What brought this up? Frank's grandmother died Saturday morning. It wasn't unexpected. She was 90, had Alzheimer's and bronchitis, and was getting weaker. Still, I cried a lot at the viewing and funeral. Frank thought I should be tougher. He should know me better than that.

A neighbor made Frank's family ravioli and wedding soup. Note that they just call it "wedding soup", but every time, I thought, you mean Italian wedding soup. We also had wedding soup at the reception. Dad thought they might have been confused, but I don't think the Italians have a funeral soup.

There were lots of Italians at the viewing and funeral. Frank's mom asked if I could tell which were the mafia. I assumed they all were.

At one point at the viewing, I somehow wound up in the receiving line with Frank's mom, uncle, and cousin. So, people were kissing my cheek and saying they were sorry for my loss. I know they weren't sure how I fit because I wasn't Italian. I got myself quickly out of that line.

Frank's 3.5-year-old niece was at the viewing for a little while and the funeral. Someone commented that viewings aren't much fun for kids. Yeah, but for the rest of us--it's a blast.

I stayed with my parents one night and told them about the funeral. I mentioned Frank's cousin Sonny (who I was next to in the receiving line). My parents thought about Sonny Corleone from The Godfather. See? My Italian stereotypes are genetic.

Reminiscing

Mom reminisced about a time shortly after she went back to work after having Jessie. Mom came home from work, and I (about 3 years old) told Mom that "Daddy was changing Jessie's diaper and went ." Mom asked me to clarify, and I demonstrated again.

I asked Dad about this story. He didn't remember it, but he didn't doubt it. I asked, "What were you feeding her?" Dad replied, "Gerber's chili."

PG-13 Warning

Frank has been complaining that he pulled a groin muscle. I've been having a field day with that one. Such as, "How is your groin today?" and in response to his saying that he's not feeling as sore today, "So all that rubbing worked?" It's almost too easy.

I shouldn't get so much pleasure from his pain.

2nd time at a voting booth

I think today was just my second time at a voting booth. (That's different than only voting for a second time. I have done the absentee ballots.) The last time I was in a voting booth was for some local elections in Dtown, I think. Maybe it was also a primary. I was home from Gettysburg and it was a warm day. Is that enough clues to figure it out?

The voting machine was a touch screen! It was pretty fast because I was only voting for the Democratic primary. I considered voting for Kucinich, even though he's no longer in the race, because I believe in most of what he stands for. (Insert short joke here?) But, I don't need to throw my vote away.

Happy Mardi Gras!

I went to my first Mardi Gras party last night. I have no idea what Mardi Gras is--except for a big party. I dressed a little goofily with lots of blue eye shadow, a loud shirt, and a Mardi Gras mask, but other people at the party were a pink elephant, a Mediterranean dancer, and a bunch of grapes. I got the baby in the King cake, so I need to make the cake next year.

Frank and I were the youngest ones at the party by at least 10 years, so the highlight for us was the dance party segment, where people danced to Jay-Z's "99 Problems" and Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl". The songs had to be declared "no longer cool" after that party.

Super Bowl

Brendan asked Frank and me who we were "for" in the Super Bowl. I answered dreamily, "Tom Brady." Brendan said, "Don't say it like that!" But, I was too busy dreaming about Tom Brady. Brendan commented that Tom Brady is an All-American guy--the kind of guy your mother would like. I said, "My mom does like him!" Ever since he was in his tighty whities on SNL...