Sunday, December 18, 2011


So I don't know if I shared this with you but I am lucky enough to have some of my favorite family members join me in Paris for Christmas! It's certainly going to be better than a Christmas alone. Sure I have all of my international friends, but there is something about Christmas and family that belong together, and the truth is that I haven't spent Christmas with my family in two years.

My wonderful mother, Melva (or Melvacious as some call her) is coming followed by my fabulous cousin (who is essentially my third sister) Kirstie and her kick-ass, optimistic, energetic girlfriend, Nance. Nance is so wonderful that we constantly remind Kirstie that if, heaven-forbid, the two of them breakup, we get Nance in the divorce. Nance is, quite possibly, the sweetest person I have ever met. She's so sweet, in fact, that it's a bit hard to believe when you first meet her. "No one can be this nice," you'll tell yourself, "what a fake this woman is!" But then you spend more time with her and realize that it is no act, it's actually who she is. 
Perhaps the best way to describe Nance's niceness is like this. If I were to tell Nance that I was becoming a stripper, she would most likely clasp her hands together as her eyes welled up in excitement, give a little hop, and then utter with complete sincerity, "Oh that's so wonderful! You've always loved dancing! And now you get to share it with so many people!" Honest to god, that's how positive this woman is. 
The only problem with Nance, if you can call it that, is her immense amount of energy. Her cup over-flowith, you might say. Like a terrier with a tennis ball, Nance is always on the go. Just watching her can be exhausting. A perfect example is our summers in Montana when my family all gets together and lives with one another for as long as the real world will let us. Kirstie and I sleep in until way past breakfast. If we wake up before noon it's a good day. Meanwhile, Nance bursts forth from her bed full of excitement for the new beautiful day at about 5am and takes a 4 hour hike. 
You see, for my family, Montana is a place where we recharge. Sure we have our little outing of fly-fishing and un-damming the creek, but generally we take it easy. There's no TV, which I appreciate being an addict, and so we mostly read, cook or take short walks on flat land. None of this all day hike up the tallest mountain we can find nonsense. But mostly we go to Montana to see each other. Lots of eating, lots of drinking, lots of singing and dancing, and lots and lots of laughing. We really like each other, and sadly not all people feel that way about their family.

My mother, Melva, is the head-honcho of Montana. She's the matriarch and owner of our cabin that we all enjoy these wondrous times in. She's also kind of a badass who does most of the cooking and un-damming, though she will often employ her slaves (as she so lovingly calls my sister, Kathryn, and me) to help her with these tasks. And really, it's fun to do it. Now that we aren't self-righteous, entitled teenagers, we enjoy helping our Mom out. The woman is getting old (though I don't like that at all), she needs our help. (Plus she almost set the entire forest on fire one summer so more than that she needs our supervision). 
So imagine how blessed I feel to get this sensational trio for Christmas! It will, without a doubt, be a hilarious time. I feel somewhat overwhelmed with the responsibility of hosting them all, but hopefully with enough wine, butter, and croissants, they'll be happy enough to endure whatever I throw at them. And with Nance as an art teacher it's a no-brainer what some of our activities will be. Add the fact that she's a chocolate lover and Paris is practically a custom-made, Nance paradise. 

Melva will be easy to keep happy because, like me, she loves shopping for beautiful things, eating delicious fattening foods, and drinking white wine. I like to think of myself as Melva 2.0. We do have a lot in common, and while at times it scares the crap out of me (becoming your mother is always a bit terrifying), I mostly embrace it with open arms. 

And Kirstie, well Kirstie is Kirstie. A wood shop teacher who taught me the to fly fish by the age of 11, and the beauty of power tools by the age of 12 (she failed at teaching me how to throw, but I think that's because I'm somehow genetically defective), she promised me to be back on carbs by the time she arrived and so the two of us should be in a glutton's heaven. I don't know why my family members insist on calling off sugar, carbs, and all the other good stuff when I plan on making my living on these things! But I'm sure that if something is irresistible enough they'll cave.

So today and tomorrow I am strapping myself with the task of cleaning up my apartment, and I mean really cleaning it. All those nooks an crannies that usually go ignored, dusting, mopping, wiping down all surfaces. That kinda thing. Not exactly the most exciting tasks but I know that the next two weeks with my family will be thrilling enough to make up for it. Plus, I'm going to buy a Christmas Tree to finally get this holiday business into full swing! Deck the halls, here I come!

    1 comment:

    1. Oh my goodness! You are a natural. perhaps you should make your living writing and making carbs. I will purchase both. You have captured Nance and Kirstie perfectly! Love your blog! happy travels.