No Place Like Home for the Holidays

We hired these actors to pose for our family portrait.

There is nothing like being reunited with your family after a semester abroad (read: a 4 month European vacation) only to find that they are just as crazy as they were when you left them. I got back to America last week, and spent a few days staying at my Rhode Island house wandering up and down the East coast. My parents opted to stay in their new condo in Florida instead of coming up North to greet me, and they eventually guilted me into flying down here for Christmas and New Years.

People are normally very confused about why I would rather sit in an empty house in Rhode Island than be with my family in sunny Florida-- but these people have clearly never been to Bradenton. First of all, it proudly boasts the highest concentration of retired people in the world. Granted my mom IS turning 60 this year (but looks like she's 35-- YEAH I GOT GOOD GENES) so she fits right in with the bridge playing, coupon clipping oldies in her new hometown. I, on the other hand, am bored OUT OF MY MIND. My big night out down here consists of going to Applebees for 2-for-1 Margaritas and Karaoke. That is when they are willing to serve me -- my ID usually gets rejected. If someone could please explain to me how I can pass for Naima Mauloaua in Manhattan and not in Bradenton, I would be greatly appreciative. So, while everyone is rolling face at Avicii on New Years eve, I will be sitting home babysitting my dogs. Hopefully "Naima" will be able to buy champagne, but it all depends on whether or not Bob of Bob's Liquors is in the holiday spirit.

Spot the retiree

The main issue with coming down here, though, is not the inhabitants of Bradenton-- it is the inhabitants of 5425 36th Court. My parents, my brother and their SIX animals are all completely, level 10, bat shit crazy. We live in a three bedroom condo, and somehow manage to have at least two extra people sleeping on our couch on any given night. My brother insists on throwing these weird gatherings that involve blaring Kid Cudi until 4am and playing beer pong. My mom considers herself to be best friends with the graduating class of 2011, so sometimes she joins the party. Every morning, I wake up to a kitchen covered in Natty Light cans and chicken McNuggets -- talk about a dream vacation.
Since I have no friends in Florida, my parents take advantage of the opportunity to spend EVERY waking minute together. Every day, we get up, go to smoothie king, go to spinning (yeah. my dad spins now.), go to the beach, go to dinner and go to the movies. At least I'll go back to school with a tan and an educated opinion on who deserves to win Best Picture.

As hard as I am on them (which must be pretty hard since my dad has now nicknamed me "the devil"), I love my family to death and am thrilled to get to spend time with them. And so, here is to being home for the holidays. And to hoping I will be able to purchase enough alcohol to get myself through it.