Not Your Average Butcher

Fast Fact: The average butcher has 7.3 fingers. Actually, I made that up, but I have all 10 of my fingers, so that's saying something... or is it?

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

My Big Fat Greek Italian Easter

Why do long weekends go by so fast? Like any other long weekend, I completely neglected my school work. I had good intentions, but things just kept coming up. Like Easter. But that was fun, I got to see lots of my extended family (we're a pretty untraditional family, we celebrated Easter on Saturday night with a turkey dinner). It amuses mt that we still have a kids table. Mike was the youngest 'kid' at the kids table, at 22 years of age. My cousin's boyfriend was the oldest, at 36. Interesting dynamic. Anyway, Easter Sunday was much more traditional, at Mike's Italian grandparents' place, where we were fed capeletti (yeah, I don't know how to spell that), lamb, salad, etc. 'til we could eat no more! The food there is always delicious! On Friday I helped Kim move out of her apartment, which provided me with a week's worth of excercise: endless running up and down three flights of stairs makes for a pretty good workout! It was fun though, we rode around in a U-Haul and Kim bought us pizza to think us for our help. Anyway, that's why I didn't get too much work done.

Here's something anecdotal that I thought was funny: There's this new guy at work that takes my place at the front desk when I leave for class every Thursday afternoon. He's been around for a few weeks now, but I'd never really spoken to him before because he's always arriving as I'm leaving. However, last Thursday, he arrived around 20 minutes early, so I was able to get to know him a little. Anyhow, at one point, he asked me if I was Greek. "No," I answered. "Portuguese?" he ventured. "No," I said again, "Why do you ask?" "Because your hair looks very Mediterranean." Ha ha! I think that's the cutest thing a near stranger has ever said to me! Moving on: Friday was the day I helped with Kim's move. That evening, I stayed over for dinner. Her brother said something about Greeks. As an afterthought, he said, "I hope no one here is Greek!" and then he looked my way. I shook my head 'no'. "Oh that's good," he said, "because your hair looks Greek." Hmm, twice in two days... what's the deal? My hair is long, dark and curly... does that make me Greek?? I'm beginning to think that I look like the chick from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding". Only skinnier... and with a smaller nose.

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