Posts Tagged ‘NJ’

Writing about Cathy’s visit made me remember when we’d first moved down to New Orleans and Ali was still a completely brash little Jersey Girl in the making.

Alison was headed into middle school, and really looking forward to starting, but I watched her spirits dip a little lower each day that she failed to really click with new friends. A few weeks into the term, she came home looking positively perplexed.

“Mom,” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t get it. These girls? They were really nice to me when I took the school tour, and now they just shut up whenever I get close. So today I walked up to the group and asked if I’d done anything wrong- why weren’t they talking to me?” She shook her head when I asked what they’d answered. “They just got really upset, and kind of stuttered and stuff. One of them finally said ‘That’s what you did! We don’t say things like that! You’re so weird!’”

Over time, Ali figured out how to navigate the strange currents between Mason and Dixon, though I’d never seen the changes so much as when her friends came together and needed Alison to act as their cultural translator.

It made me realize she’s become a sort of southern belle with balls- not a bad thing to be. Well mannered, polite, but still able to kick your ass.

Alison’s had her friend Cathy down to visit for the last two weeks, and it’s been a study in contrasts.

Cathy’s a great kid, smart, funny, a little shy, and gorgeous to boot- but she’s definitely a Yankee. And I say this as a fellow Yankee who’s gotten herself into faux pas territory more than once. Intellectually, I knew they were like different species, but hadn’t given it much thought- until I had Alison, Olivia and Cathy all side by side. Every one a fantastic young woman, but wow- so different.

They still had a good time, schlepping all over the city in this miserable heat (which Cathy swore she loved because all they’ve had up north for months is chilly drizzle), even getting up to Baton Rouge for an LSU visit and out the Mississippi coast for a night.

The 4th was the night before she left, and we headed down to dinner at the Palace and the fireworks. Cathy’s a pretty brave eater, and she gamely tried every strange fried thing Alison put on her plate, loving pretty much all of it.

Other than cheesesteaks, there’s no native cuisine where she is, so it might be a little cultureshock when she gets back- although she did insist on a Crabby Jack’s stop to bring a couple of poboys home, though it wasn’t clear to me whether she intends to share with her parents or sneak them in to keep for herself.

And then it was off to the river to catch the fireworks, which usually I dread because of the crowds. For 4th of July we’ve got Essence Fest, for New Year’s fireworks we’ve got the Sugar Bowl, both of which make it ungodly crowded and unnavigable. I don’t know whether it was the concept of dealing with crowds in the heat or the economy keeping numbers of Fest goers down, it was surprisingly thin and nice down by the breezes of the Mississippi.

Then it was time for final fireworks of a different sort. The girls wanted to have a little grownup time, unsupervised on Bourbon Street. After Charlie reminded me that she’s got to learn to do these things, we bought them each one fruity drink of their choosing to take on their way, made them promise not to accept/attempt to buy any others, and set them loose, as long as they stayed directly on the police-heavy Bourbon Street and didn’t go wandering. And made sure they had cab money. And the cab’s phone number in their cell phones. And text me once an hour.

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly ‘setting them loose.’ How about ‘loose with training wheels and an airbag?’

Alright, clearly I’m still drugged up on cold meds, but I have not laughed this hard in a long damn time.

This is the perfect sendup of relatives and friends in the NY/NJ area. Perfect in ways I can’t even describe. Seriously. If you get it, you get it, and if you don’t…there’s just no way to explain.

Big thumbs up to Dangerblond for pointing it out. Ya made my day, Kim.

(Also, their “my son is gay?” video is hysterical, because it ends with mom wanting to feed everybody. As it should be.)