Tuesday, December 25, 2007

carol's christmas curse continues

As you saw a couple of posts ago, I wasn't too thrilled with my cruddy luck of late. Most of you may know that I'm not religious nor "stupidstitious", as I like to call it. However, I have come to accept my cursed 40th Christmas and am trying to laugh about it.

Even this morning, while I was down on my hands and knees at 6 a.m. cleaning up the bodily emanations of the Gingerbread Monster, I had to smile to myself at the fact that the gooey brown puddles actually smelled nice!

I won't go into detail about all the mundane tiny things that have gone wrong this holiday season (like the flat tire I got on my bicycle yesterday as I rushed out to get some stocking stuffers for Aran, or the turkey that cooked 2 hours faster than Aran had calculated) but to explain about the ginger squirts, I will start with our weekend houseguests.

A friend of a friend's daughter's friend—whom we have become friends with since earlier this year when she moved to a small town a couple of hours from Tokyo and has visited us a few times—was coming to Tokyo this weekend to pick up a friend of hers at the airport. She asked if they could stay with us Friday and Saturday nights, which was fine, since Aran's cousin from Spain was only due to arrive on Sunday morning.

Well, didn't they go out partying on Saturday night (they're in their 20s, after all) and she got pretty sick (beer, wine, redbull & vodka, say no more). In the cab on the way back to our house at 3:30 a.m., they realize they've lost my key and so they ring the doorbell. The sick one is in and out of the bathroom from then on, which is right next to our bedroom and me a light sleeper, so end of sleep for me.

But then my Sunday morning wasn't supposed to be too taxing: walk the dog while Aran takes the 1.5 hr train ride to Narita to pick up his cousin. I even hoped to squeeze in the prepping/baking of my gingerbread and perhaps other xmas cookies. No such luck, of course.

Due to weather problems, missed connections, yadda-yadda, cousin's arriving Monday morning instead. So we decide to go out and do some groceries, taking the friend of the sick friend along since we feel sorry for her. Of course, being generous and polite, we end up taking a very scenic route, stopping for lunch, etc.

By the time we get back in the late p.m., I can only just start prepping my dough before it's time for us to go do some last minute stocking-stuffer shopping and we again take the friend along (the sick one is pretty sick, plus since the cousin isn't coming, we've offered them to stay overnight again) and of course our little expedition takes a bit longer than planned and having dinner here afterwards (sick one is up and ready to eat by the time we bring back food) means I finish making my gingerbread at midnight and have to work Monday at 9:00. Incidentally, I found nothing for Aran in the packed store we went to so I left empty-handed, hence yesterday's bike trip.

The next morning the girls call me at my office at 11 to say they're leaving, so I pop home (embassy is 3 min. away) to say goodbye but mostly to do the dog-proofing of the house, i.e., closing shoe closets and securing both kitchen doors. One of said doors is a pocket/sliding door which G-dog figured out how to open so we now have to block it from the inside and exit through the other. The other is a regular door but the catch is a bit stiff so you really have to pull it good to make sure it clicks.

A click which, when I got home from work at 1 p.m. I discovered to my great, great, great (40 minutes of bawling) consternation, I must had neglegted to listen for when I was saying goodbye to the houseguests.

"It" as I called it for the rest of the day, had pulled 3 of the 4 tins of gingerbread off the counter, their lids popping off when they hit the floor, allowing It to eat approximately 2 dozen gingerbread (and some bread It found on the table).

Anyway, I have since forgiven her, since her stomach was so swollen you couldn't help but feel sorry for the normally boney thing. And then of course she starting burping and drinking bowl after bowl of water. Until, yes, it started to come out from both ends, whole raisins recognizable in the sugary, fragrant mess.

But enough gorey details! She's sleeping soundly and Aran and his cousin have gone off sight-seeing so I'm going to take the opportunity to make some sugar cookies and decorate the remaining gingerbread men which I've reserved as precious gifts for the friends who've invited us for a tourtière feast ce soir.

Again, Merry Christmas. Just watch out for the Gingerbread Monster.


this is the most insane christmas story ever!!! :O
bad bad grace!!!
Ha, ha, ha, poor dog!
I just can imagine the thrill she had when found the cookies.
I just saw the picture you added, wonderful Christmas, it seems, isn't it?
On my flickr account you can see ours, we went to some friends'house, on Ile Perrot. Also you can see my little "boys" lately.

one day this will become a hilarious, "remember when..." story that you will tell when recounting your wild adventures in Japan.

one day...

I especially enjoyed the friend of a friend of a daughter of a friend's next-door-cousin thing.

Happy 2008, little C!
yo pinchie, need another update, beautiful! :)
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