The Christmas cheer edition.

So this past weekend was that time in the fifi household during which we run around like banshees transforming the house into a holiday wonderland. You may have wondered where I was all weekend – I was decorating. The Madre LOVES both decorating and holidays and so we don’t just put up a tree, throw some fake pine boughs around the place (fake because the Bro is horribly horribly allergic to real pine so after a couple of years of torturing the poor kid, the parentals invested in a fake tree and fake garlands because they finally figured out what he was allergic to decided their love of the Bro outweighed their love of that wonderful Christmas-y pine scent), put up some lights outside and call it a day.

Oh no. In the fifi household, artwork comes down, pictures get hidden away, and the normal decorative accents all get stowed away for a month. We put up eight trees in total (Most get stored with all their decorations on, fyi) and artfully places countless Father Christmases around the house (the Madre rarely sees a Father Christmas that she doesn’t love, particularly if he’s decked out in maroon robes). We take our holiday decorating VERY seriously in the fifi household.

I’m working on two other posts right now, but with all the aforementioned decorating and then getting back to New York and work I haven’t had time yet to finish. Instead, let me present to you the fifi house, in all of its holiday glory:

main tree

stockings (with a couple of Father Christmases)

kitchen tree

kitchen window

reindeer!

entry tree

living room

nutcrackers

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The parentals and I spent the weekend down at OSU with the Bro for Parents’ Weekend. As I have no life, I got to tag along (stadium tour! Woot!). Before we left, the Madre made up a huge batch of chili and brownies and other goodies for the boys. I decided at that point to be a good big sister and go pick up some beer to add to the mix. The Madre was not a fan of this plan.

the Madre: Why would you get them beer? They probably already have beer. They probably don’t want more beer.

fifi: Have you met college boys? They never have enough beer.

the Madre: Call your brother and make sure he even wants beer.

fifi: You are kidding, no?

the Madre:

fifi: You are nuts.

5 minutes later…

the Madre: Well? What did he say?

fifi: That you are nuts. And he wants the beer. SHOCKING.

Last night, I received an invitation to the boyfriend’s sister’s wedding shower. Tragically, it is the Saturday before the Bar and thus I will not be able to attend. Tear.

As I was pecking out a message to accompany the coffee grinder I purchased from her registry to send as a shower gift, the Madre stuck her head in the room and so I ran the message by her:

fifi: “Congratulations…”

the Madre: You know, really, proper etiquette is to only wish the groom “congratulations.” You wish a bride “best wishes.” Saying “congratulations” to the bride is kind of like saying “congratulations on finally catching a man.”

fifi: Hmmm….

pause

fifi: Well then, “Congratulations…”


I did a big Costco run with the parents last Friday night (why, yes, I am indeed that cool and obvs. have many, many exciting things to do on my weekend nights) and we stocked up on lots of yummy treats. One of the nice things about being home is that there are four of us to eat things so shopping in bulk is practical in a way that it never was for me living alone. I used to buy things like water at Costco (I do heart Costco. The one in DC, although located conveniently 5 minutes from my apartment, was always crazy busy and crowded – usually with restauranteurs – but the one here is quite nice), but never really took complete advantage of bulk buying because I just can’t eat that much in a reasonable time period.

So anyway, we bought tons of fish and fruit and good stuff, including a big pack of Chobanis, which I was excited to try since the price was great and they seem pretty popular on the food blog circuit. I absolutely adore Fage and, when given the opportunity, purchase the peach individual-serving. Considering that I am currently on a bar-studying budget (i.e. am essentially broke), the Chobani deal was too good to pass up. Unfortunately, I’m not a huge fan. The Chobani seems pretty thin and lacks the heft of the Fage. The flavor is also not as distinct as the Fage – if I didn’t know that the Chobani was Greek yogurt, I would just think it was regular plain old yogurt. And the fruit is just not as nice as the Fage fruit. I am a wee bit disappointed.

But ANYWAY, now that I’ve digressed into a Greek yogurt comparison, that is not the point of this post. What I really wanted to tell you about was dinner tonight. One of the other purchases at Costco was a bag of edamame, which the Madre wanted to try and she suggested that we have some with dinner last night. Everyone enjoyed them, but the Madre thought it was way too much work. Why, you might ask, considering that she just had to dump the pods into a pot of boiling water, cook them for 4-5 min, drain, salt, and serve?

Because she shelled them. 

I tried explaining that we could have just eaten them as they were, but she thought that the pods looked gross and that no one would want to put them in their mouths. Clearly we will have to work on this.

It is good to be home 🙂

So I have all these posts in my head introducing myself and talking about blog philosophy (how pretentious does that sound?) but at this point in time there is still NO time. Meaning, while antitrust is done (we shall discuss this more at a later point in time) and family law is done (12,600 characters limit? again, we shall discuss), Law of the Sea (pirates!) is tomorrow and it is closed book and SERIOUSLY scary, so for right now, just a quick post so I get in the habit of posting and maybe entertaining people, because that’s the point of all this isn’t it?

So this is where you meet my mother. She is seriously awesome in many, many ways, but, as you will see, she is a wee bit opinionated.

Case in point, conversation this morning. I am contemplating getting my hair cut because it’s getting long and as much fun as that is in the summer…no (I am thinking the collarbone length cut Gwenyth Paltrow was (is?) supporting for awhile which, yes Plum Sykes/Vogue, I realize is perhaps a bit done at this point, but I can’t help it – I love it). Anyways, I tell my mother this:

The Madre: Your hair always looks cute short. As long as you don’t get those bangs [said like “bangs” is a dirty word, which perhaps it is in some contexts, but not this one] again.*

Fifi: Nope. The bangs are almost grown out.

The Madre: Thank God. They were horrible. You looked like you were 12.

Fifi: Actually, I got lots of compliments on them. 

The Madre: That’s just what people were telling you. They were bad. Trust me.

Fifi: Hmmm. I think that’s just your opinion.

The Madre: No, it’s an objective fact.

Fifi: Nope. Pretty sure that’s called an opinion.

The Madre: Fact.

Looks like someone’s getting a dictionary for Mother’s Day.

 

*Mohammad who cuts my hair talked me into bangs back in September. While they were fun for a little while, they are actually annoying as hell so I will be very happy when they are grown out. Do I tell my mother this? Of course not. Mother/Daughter Relationships 101.