Tuesday, October 05, 2004


I was talking to Chili on the IM today and she was telling a stressful story about having a big family lunch at MILChili's house. Chili (and all the kids) knew that MILChili wouldn't have any food. Apparently there was an incident with spoiled grape jelly for dinner one night and caution has been the watch word ever since. So Chili went to the store and got meat and cheese vegetables and condiments and bread, a whole cooler full and brought it to MILCHili's house along with the delightful grandchildren, PunkinChili and BeanChili. Enough, one would think, to make any Granny happy. Not MILChili. MILChili had also gone to the store and returned with what's reported to be 1 loaf of bread and 7 slices of roast beast, for 7 adults (one vegetarian) and 2 children. Chili broke out the cooler and all would be well for the lunch but MILChili was offended and upset. I don't get it. Neither does Chili. It's possible that MILChili doesn't either.

But of course, it made me think.

There was this night at least 2 lifetimes ago in my apartment in the West Village and there was a dinner. My kitchen was the size of a grain of rice, or possibly cous cous, the other room of the apartment was the size of the rice grain. I had 3 dinner plates, more mugs than glasses and not many of either, completely unmatched cutlery and questionable numbers and types of cooking utensils and pans. Everyone was there; PonyExpress and her Ex, JAM, OtherIzz, BaldSug, TV and probably a couple of others. We had roast chicken and roasted potatoes. OtherIzz made the gravy because she hadn't taught me how yet. PonyExpress brought a milk crate full of plates and probably silverware too. BaldSug did all the dishes after dinner and while he did we talked for real for the first time. TV and PonyExpress had a drinking contest. PonyExpress won. TV sang Oh Danny Boy at my request. It was the first time I knew that PonyExpress really considered me a friend. It was, possibly, the last night that OtherIzz and I were truly friends with nothing the matter. TV tried to kiss me as I poured his ass into a cab.

That was family. People brought Tequila and dishes. They did the dishes which I hate and made the gravy that I love. We gave and took and talked and laughed and laughed and laughed. It was fun and it was sad and it didn't matter who did what because we liked each other. Well back then we did at least. I wasn't embarrassed to ask for dishes and PonyExpress didn't think it was foolish of me to ask for them. And, really, she and I have thrown a bunch of parties together since then and we still wouldn't think anything of it.

MILChili is really missing out.

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