LIVE AND FREAKING LET LOOL.

I never did get a chance to recap the lat night or two of the vacation, and some really hilarious stuff happened. So hilarious that I might be able to forget the pretty much hideous ride home (blown out tire in North Carolina, me trying the entire way not to be so carsick that I blow my groceries everywhere. If I can't afford to fly the next time, I probably can't go.)

A few things I need to explain before I get to The Funny. (And remember, as I'm writing these things, they're really just for myself, so that my future self can read them and relive them some years down the road. If anyone else reads it and finds it funny or amusing or whatever, that's great, too.) So, okay, thing one is something I've mentioned before: children in this family are raised in snark. It's not an emotionally sterile ground, but sarcasm and wit are prized right up there with things like loyalty and bravery. Very few things are off-limits for joking. If you don't have a sense of humor or are wildly sensitive, you will be lost. Emotional independence is also valued. Brains above pointless sentiment. Education and actual work above FairyTale Wishes *Heartsandsparkles* Think anti-faire_damsel, if you get me. That's the way kids are raised 'round these parts, so it's no wonder to me that at 14 and 17, my two young cousins are shining examples of snarky wit. And a little vulgarity, if it's timed perfectly, is a beautiful thing.

Okay, and in order to get the joke, you'd have to remember my Gran's "Fullydildo" comment from the previous entry, and the little running gag from work that I brought with me and passed on: that whole "I'm going to punch him/her/it right in the vagina", which eventually get shortened to, "I'm going to give him/her/it such a vunch."

( LIVE AND FREAKING LET EVERYBODY LOOL. )

So there was that. Then there was my Dad driving over the speed-humps--which are just called speed-bumps out this way--too fast and my Mom trying to warn him: "Watch the speed bump ... hump..." And my Dad: "Oh, nice! Did you just call me a hump?!" Which made my Mom laugh until she couldn't breathe. I mean seriously: she LOOLed. THat was Friday night.

Friday afternoon, Spencer wanted to go to MGM one last time to see the stuff he had missed earlier. Uncle Don, Betsy, Mom and Dad went there, too. Meghan and I decided to go to Epcot instead and try to eat lunch at Mitsukoshi (yeah, right!) We walked around Epcot (it took us about a half an hour just to get in the west entrance,) I bought a few things, and we made our way around to the Japan pavillion. Mitsukoshi is reservation only, so we decided to try the little walk in place and get some miso soup. There are two doors and two counters, so we got on line. This guy comes out of nowhere and says to us, "Where did you two come from?!" I told him, "That door right there." He says, "Well this is one line, okay?! Then it branches off into two!" He was being confrontational, but I didn't want to be one of those people who I always hate, the ones who think they can just walk onto a line when everyone else has decided that they are queuing from a different place. I looked out the door and saw it was totally packed and I said to Meghan, "Huh, that's a long line, I didn't realize it was going to be all the way out the door. Ah, well." We were about to leave, but this fat schmuck wasn't done yet. ""IT'S ONE LINE, SEE?!" he bellows. So now I feel my blood pressure spike. I turn to Meghan and, in a voice as close to this guy's bellowing one that I can manage, shout, "IT'S ONE LINE! ONE! NOW MOVE BEFORE HE PUNCHES US BOTH IN THE FACE!" The guy had a look of shock before he turned away, and I actually really startled a cute Japanese boy who was sitting down next to where we were standing. He looked up, stunned, with noodles still hanging out of his mouth. Then I just started giggling. Meghan said, "Let's get out of here. This guy wants his fried food and he wants it now." HAHA! I set a terrible example for her with my impatience. But then again, maybe not. You can't let people just talk to you like that, you know?

And later, as we were leaving, I had to yell at a bunch of kids who were throwing sticks at a little mommy squirrel who was trying to get up a tree. The parents were right there watching them. Why are people so stupid? Why don't they bother to raise their children?

We all got together for dinner at Port Orleans, then decided to go over to the Magic Kingdom one last time. Mom, Spence, Meg and I made the terrible mistake of going on Splash Mountain. We got miserably soaked. Then we all decided to stay for Wishes. Spencer made up his own random lyrics, and indeed his own melody, to the dumb song. I told him that I always am disappointed when they say, "No request is too extreme," because for years it's been my most profound wish to decide who lives and who dies, and no one has ever granted that. That cracked him up, but honestly I think I used it last year, too, and he was just humoring me. ;) Spencer says he thinks that the villains should get their wishes, too, and it's discrimination.

Saturday was the usual mess of checking out and getting stuff together and blah blah blah, then into that blasted motorhome for the long haul. Ugh, just thinking about it gets me all carsick again. Spencer played FF12 most of the way home, Meghan slept a lot of the way, and I read the new Stephen King. (Don't ask me how I managed to read in the car; I think it was the desperation of boredom: I knew I had to do something to make the time pass.) At any rate, it is classic King, classic, although admittedly he is starting to repeat himself. Didn't we go into the writer/death of a spouse/haunting to solve a mystery once before? In Bag Of Bones? Regardless, I love him, and he inspires me to be a better writer. Or a writer at all, for that matter.

Now I'm back home with my Ninja Wizards (it always amazes me how it takes some time for this house to get its mana back; coming home to an empty and quiet house is so alien,) and can sleep in my own bed tonight. My fam is all at their various places doing their various things. I so rarely get to see the kids anymore that I treasure these vacations. It ocurred to me--and not for the first time--that I don't even go to Disneyworld for Disneyworld anymore (even though I do get some fun shopping done there.) I go there to spend a week with my cousins and aunt and uncle, because for one thing, there's never enough time. And for another, this entire family makes me LOOL.

Pics to follow, I think.

LIVE AND FREAKING LET LOOL.

I never did get a chance to recap the lat night or two of the vacation, and some really hilarious stuff happened. So hilarious that I might be able to forget the pretty much hideous ride home (blown out tire in North Carolina, me trying the entire way not to be so carsick that I blow my groceries everywhere. If I can't afford to fly the next time, I probably can't go.)

A few things I need to explain before I get to The Funny. (And remember, as I'm writing these things, they're really just for myself, so that my future self can read them and relive them some years down the road. If anyone else reads it and finds it funny or amusing or whatever, that's great, too.) So, okay, thing one is something I've mentioned before: children in this family are raised in snark. It's not an emotionally sterile ground, but sarcasm and wit are prized right up there with things like loyalty and bravery. Very few things are off-limits for joking. If you don't have a sense of humor or are wildly sensitive, you will be lost. Emotional independence is also valued. Brains above pointless sentiment. Education and actual work above FairyTale Wishes *Heartsandsparkles* Think anti-faire_damsel, if you get me. That's the way kids are raised 'round these parts, so it's no wonder to me that at 14 and 17, my two young cousins are shining examples of snarky wit. And a little vulgarity, if it's timed perfectly, is a beautiful thing.

Okay, and in order to get the joke, you'd have to remember my Gran's "Fullydildo" comment from the previous entry, and the little running gag from work that I brought with me and passed on: that whole "I'm going to punch him/her/it right in the vagina", which eventually get shortened to, "I'm going to give him/her/it such a vunch."

( LIVE AND FREAKING LET EVERYBODY LOOL. )

So there was that. Then there was my Dad driving over the speed-humps--which are just called speed-bumps out this way--too fast and my Mom trying to warn him: "Watch the speed bump ... hump..." And my Dad: "Oh, nice! Did you just call me a hump?!" Which made my Mom laugh until she couldn't breathe. I mean seriously: she LOOLed. THat was Friday night.

Friday afternoon, Spencer wanted to go to MGM one last time to see the stuff he had missed earlier. Uncle Don, Betsy, Mom and Dad went there, too. Meghan and I decided to go to Epcot instead and try to eat lunch at Mitsukoshi (yeah, right!) We walked around Epcot (it took us about a half an hour just to get in the west entrance,) I bought a few things, and we made our way around to the Japan pavillion. Mitsukoshi is reservation only, so we decided to try the little walk in place and get some miso soup. There are two doors and two counters, so we got on line. This guy comes out of nowhere and says to us, "Where did you two come from?!" I told him, "That door right there." He says, "Well this is one line, okay?! Then it branches off into two!" He was being confrontational, but I didn't want to be one of those people who I always hate, the ones who think they can just walk onto a line when everyone else has decided that they are queuing from a different place. I looked out the door and saw it was totally packed and I said to Meghan, "Huh, that's a long line, I didn't realize it was going to be all the way out the door. Ah, well." We were about to leave, but this fat schmuck wasn't done yet. ""IT'S ONE LINE, SEE?!" he bellows. So now I feel my blood pressure spike. I turn to Meghan and, in a voice as close to this guy's bellowing one that I can manage, shout, "IT'S ONE LINE! ONE! NOW MOVE BEFORE HE PUNCHES US BOTH IN THE FACE!" The guy had a look of shock before he turned away, and I actually really startled a cute Japanese boy who was sitting down next to where we were standing. He looked up, stunned, with noodles still hanging out of his mouth. Then I just started giggling. Meghan said, "Let's get out of here. This guy wants his fried food and he wants it now." HAHA! I set a terrible example for her with my impatience. But then again, maybe not. You can't let people just talk to you like that, you know?

And later, as we were leaving, I had to yell at a bunch of kids who were throwing sticks at a little mommy squirrel who was trying to get up a tree. The parents were right there watching them. Why are people so stupid? Why don't they bother to raise their children?

We all got together for dinner at Port Orleans, then decided to go over to the Magic Kingdom one last time. Mom, Spence, Meg and I made the terrible mistake of going on Splash Mountain. We got miserably soaked. Then we all decided to stay for Wishes. Spencer made up his own random lyrics, and indeed his own melody, to the dumb song. I told him that I always am disappointed when they say, "No request is too extreme," because for years it's been my most profound wish to decide who lives and who dies, and no one has ever granted that. That cracked him up, but honestly I think I used it last year, too, and he was just humoring me. ;) Spencer says he thinks that the villains should get their wishes, too, and it's discrimination.

Saturday was the usual mess of checking out and getting stuff together and blah blah blah, then into that blasted motorhome for the long haul. Ugh, just thinking about it gets me all carsick again. Spencer played FF12 most of the way home, Meghan slept a lot of the way, and I read the new Stephen King. (Don't ask me how I managed to read in the car; I think it was the desperation of boredom: I knew I had to do something to make the time pass.) At any rate, it is classic King, classic, although admittedly he is starting to repeat himself. Didn't we go into the writer/death of a spouse/haunting to solve a mystery once before? In Bag Of Bones? Regardless, I love him, and he inspires me to be a better writer. Or a writer at all, for that matter.

Now I'm back home with my Ninja Wizards (it always amazes me how it takes some time for this house to get its mana back; coming home to an empty and quiet house is so alien,) and can sleep in my own bed tonight. My fam is all at their various places doing their various things. I so rarely get to see the kids anymore that I treasure these vacations. It ocurred to me--and not for the first time--that I don't even go to Disneyworld for Disneyworld anymore (even though I do get some fun shopping done there.) I go there to spend a week with my cousins and aunt and uncle, because for one thing, there's never enough time. And for another, this entire family makes me LOOL.

Pics to follow, I think.