Not Surprising, I Ended Up Trashed

Alright, not all of my holiday was depressing. Its time to photo blog for the last time from 2005!

Here we are at Christmas Eve. Its always spent with Matt's family. Wait...hmm What? Where's that curly blonde chick that Matt had an illegitimate baby with? Oh she's not allowed in the pictures until her last name is Chase. But, uh... I ain't bitter. Is the Chase family not the most attractive little postcard you've ever seen?


Here is Matt's middle brother, Brad. The most adorable thing about him and Matt's little brother, Craig (below) is that they can't get enough of their new niece. Its a fight over her, really.




These college football playing tough guys are all about making this little chick happy. And she has them both wrapped around her tiny little British finger.






This night was really nice, and I WAS there although there is no documentation. I was happy to be given a pie cutter for Christmas by his Grandma! That was not sarcasm. I was embarrassed not to have one when she was over a few months before, so I was ecstatic.




Here are "Brittle" and Matt on Christmas. How adorable are they both in the morning? She let us sleep in and didn't even care that her presents had been picked out while she was in the shopping cart weeks before. I had just given Matt socks and pjs, what every man wants. He, in turn gave me XM radio, obviously a fair trade. Truth be told, my "big" present to him had not arrived. Update on that later this week when it will finally be here.

Christmas afternoon: moving on to Mimi and Papa G's house. Britain made out! Here she is with the new "IT" toy (note to Dave and Sharon): Peek A Blocks by Fisher Price. Look at the entertainment even before its out of the box!




Brad competing for Brit's attention. Brit playing hard to get. When will he ever learn?







Dinner was amazing! Everyone else had steak while I dined on stuffing and pork loin (the other white meat) made just for me. I told Matt's mom that she was so much nicer to me than my own mother because if my moms serving up the red flesh, she just tells me "Good, go ahead and starve".

Off to my Aunt Sue's house Christmas night. Here are Marc, my oldest cousin, and his new wife, Michelle up from North Carolina. Don't let her fool you. She can outbench him by 50 pounds. This is no joke.




My other cousin Steve, younger brother to Marc and also the cousin I'm closest to. He is sitting here with his new lady friend, Amy. More below with this couple from New Years Eve.





My father and his creation. I felt a little bad for him...not so much that he was wearing it, but because you KNEW he made it for Britain and her reaction was basically a baby's version of the middle finger. She barely paid any attention and couldn't stop staring at the track lighting.


Fast forward to the day after Christmas. By this time, Matt and I were ready to down some pills or slit our wrists if it did not end soon.


These two pictures are me looking less than amused.









Flashback to Junior year when my fifteen year old angst caused the phrase of the day for Christmas morning to be "did you keep the receipt?". I truly DID enjoy the gifts my parents bestowed upon Britain. I think I might have been listening to the same damn story my mother had told me a thousand times.


This picture, to me, looks like I just opened up a Britain doll.









No! OF COURSE I didn't pack my plaid skirt so Brit and I could match...I forgot it.









My sister Theresa, who has a remote car start and no need whatsoever for an electric windshield scraper. Thanks for knowing your daughter so well, Mom and Dad. Oh and thanks to Theresa for the on-the-spot regift to Matt!



My mom can act excited about absolutely anything. Its just like when I used to come home with a homeade ornament for the tree.







"Did you keep the receipt?"

No seriously, thanks for all the great gifts and continuous love, Mom and Dad.







Here's me (and Matt) feeling all guilty for going out of town to Pittsburgh to celebrate New Year's on the eve of my Grandfather's funeral showing.






Steve (and Amy) not so guilty.














Toast before the drunkeness ensued. Here's my cousin Steve and his pilgrim-like hat.











We stayed overnight in a hotel downtown, searched for an emergency place to eat (Clauddaugh's, which I highly recommend!) and saw The Clarks. We had a really great time, especially Steve and I who downed champange, beer and triple shots like they were water. If there were drunken pictures of me, believe me I would have posted them. But alas, I'm a photographer, even blasted, so I only have these beautiful drunk ass pictures.























Matt had had enough, literally.










I saved the best picture for last. The Irish beef stew that Steve was so adamant about eating the next day ended up on the hotel room floor, sliding out of the takeout box (by accident) in one slimy perfect gob. If I didn't take the time to snap the picture, he would have eaten his scooped-back-into-the-takeout-box dinner without even knowing a thing the next day. Now sober, I realize there is no such thing as a five second rule when it comes to ANY hotel room floor.

Happy New Year everyone.