Lyds told me she looks forward to reading these so I'm going to keep posting.
I spent Thanksgiving with a random collection of local yocal jugos. We cooked a turkey with two red unpeeled potatoes inside instead of stuffing. We had guacamole and delicious feta cheese instead of cranberry and pie. We were all kind of sick - some flu flew through Oahu's air and snapped pieces of most of us. Some worse than others.
By the way, can you believe it's already December 2008! That's ten and a half years since I graduated high school. Gooolllleeee.
So, we had the huuuge teli on most of the evening, watching this and that. I really wanted to sink deep into the couch and watch holiday movies like Miracle on 34th or White Chritmas or Charlie Brown's Christmas or the Snowman, but other people wanted to watch news and sports. Oh well.
A little later on in the evening, the two elders in our party of ten or so turned on some folk jugo music top volume (I mean, I think the whole 40 floor apt building heard us) and started dancing and singing and shouting and whisltling and yelling. Neither of them even had a touch of alkeehaul on their tongues. They just went at this music with lust and relish and without caring what anyone else thought.
There were five people sitting around the table, before all this, the teli dinning a quite background, when all of a sudden (in a pretty small apt room with hardwood floors and cement walls, mostly empty, vvvurry echo-ey) our white -haired large-breasted tetka turned on her folk music full blast and started jumping around the room old school. I was still sunk in the couch, no longer zoomed on the teli, feeling a little ill. I watched her and it was easy to imagine her 55 years ago in her early 20s, the best dancer at the party, beautiful, fun. I smiled a lot. B and D got up and tried to learn some of her steps.
Back to vrk.