I'm missing the Hot Pink Lacquer gene
I have returned from the weekend with the boyfriend's family in Albany. Geo's got a huge family. Two parents, 4 sisters (ages 29, 27, 25, and 17), one adopted brother (age 13 but developmentally 7), one nephew (5), and one niece (8). Trips up there always involve eating more food than a human being should, headaches from trying to translate the rapidfire language spurts, high volume exchanges, and indigestion. They kind of remind me of my dad's side of the family...if they spoke English.
The last time I saw mi familia was in 2000 right after the doctors gave my father the all clear after his last round of chemo. He was gaining all the weight and his strength back and decided he should go see his family to celebrate his renewed lease on life. So at the end of the summer, when I was done with my classes, we made the trip. I haden't been back since I was 8, but we did it the exact way I remembered it. We stayed in the same hotel on the beach in Rincon. During the days, we drove over to Mayaguez, up the side of the volcano to the mile stretch is populated primarily by Sepulvedas.
The family is huge. I'm the only one of the cousins without child which was topic of conversation. But quickly it gave way to me being in college, going on to law school, and other lofty expectations. Unfortunately for me, it was all shot out in Spanish and I don't speak Spanish so I couldn't defend myself.
At night, we went out to the bar next door. My parents would depart early and leave me a twenty (aka don't come back to the room and interupt our love) which in PR is worth about 9 beers or rum drinks. I met some 15 year old thugs from San Juan who barely spoke any English but despite our language barrier, we smoked on the beach and raided the bar after it closed (it was just a hut outside) for a six pack the bartender left outside the cooler.
After we spent our week and a half doing the family thing, my parents decided it was time for the real vacation to begin. They got us rooms in the Caribe Hilton which had just been re-done after the hurricaine. In San Juan, if you want to go to the beach, you have to stay at one of the big resorts who had roped off their stretch of sand. The hotel was unreal. My parents would call me at about 11 to wake me up and have them join them at the pool bar. And by pool bar I mean the bar in the middle of one the pools. I spend all five days as a prune. My parents opened up a bar/food tab in my name (This was really their vacation and I was along for the ride) and I spent every night reading or writing at the bar. Not bad for the summer when my heart had gotten smashed by the love of the time and the year my dad got diagnosised with cancer.
So this weekend I think I might have finally won over the sisters over a game of good old fashioned Spades shit-talking. The reviews came back very positive.
Outstanding!
I have returned from the weekend with the boyfriend's family in Albany. Geo's got a huge family. Two parents, 4 sisters (ages 29, 27, 25, and 17), one adopted brother (age 13 but developmentally 7), one nephew (5), and one niece (8). Trips up there always involve eating more food than a human being should, headaches from trying to translate the rapidfire language spurts, high volume exchanges, and indigestion. They kind of remind me of my dad's side of the family...if they spoke English.
The last time I saw mi familia was in 2000 right after the doctors gave my father the all clear after his last round of chemo. He was gaining all the weight and his strength back and decided he should go see his family to celebrate his renewed lease on life. So at the end of the summer, when I was done with my classes, we made the trip. I haden't been back since I was 8, but we did it the exact way I remembered it. We stayed in the same hotel on the beach in Rincon. During the days, we drove over to Mayaguez, up the side of the volcano to the mile stretch is populated primarily by Sepulvedas.
The family is huge. I'm the only one of the cousins without child which was topic of conversation. But quickly it gave way to me being in college, going on to law school, and other lofty expectations. Unfortunately for me, it was all shot out in Spanish and I don't speak Spanish so I couldn't defend myself.
At night, we went out to the bar next door. My parents would depart early and leave me a twenty (aka don't come back to the room and interupt our love) which in PR is worth about 9 beers or rum drinks. I met some 15 year old thugs from San Juan who barely spoke any English but despite our language barrier, we smoked on the beach and raided the bar after it closed (it was just a hut outside) for a six pack the bartender left outside the cooler.
After we spent our week and a half doing the family thing, my parents decided it was time for the real vacation to begin. They got us rooms in the Caribe Hilton which had just been re-done after the hurricaine. In San Juan, if you want to go to the beach, you have to stay at one of the big resorts who had roped off their stretch of sand. The hotel was unreal. My parents would call me at about 11 to wake me up and have them join them at the pool bar. And by pool bar I mean the bar in the middle of one the pools. I spend all five days as a prune. My parents opened up a bar/food tab in my name (This was really their vacation and I was along for the ride) and I spent every night reading or writing at the bar. Not bad for the summer when my heart had gotten smashed by the love of the time and the year my dad got diagnosised with cancer.
So this weekend I think I might have finally won over the sisters over a game of good old fashioned Spades shit-talking. The reviews came back very positive.
Outstanding!