RSS

What It Takes

It all started with an innocent Tweet, as many things this day and age do.

After a long, magical weekend at Horrorfind, a group of us retired back to Kelli & Bob’s house. The weather was beautiful. Worn out as we were, we decided to just sprawl all over the front porch. There were no theatrics or rip-roaring conversations; mostly we just huddled in silence not wanting the weekend to end. From where I sat, leaned up against the railing at the opposite end, I took a picture so that I would remember that moment forever. And I tweeted it.

And so Awesome Porch was born.

At first it was just an inside-joke, a beloved memory, an endearment between friends who already had pet names for each other: Dickie, Tomo, the gypsy, the hippie, the princess, Anubis, Qwee. And then it started being referenced by other people. Greg Hall mentioned it during his interview with Kelli for The Funky Werepig; he wanted to know how he could be a member and get his own nickname. We all laughed — it’s not like we all carry cards or have a dress code or secret handshake or anything…apart from the odd Anubis gang sign…and the stripey socks…

The joke has been made more than once that if Awesome Porch was a reality show, it’d be watched religiously. Not that we’re not already doing our best populating photo albums and creating Facebook Applications and adding each other into Twitter groups and writing each other into stories. It was the pizza place that clinched it, though. Kelli placed our order for delivery, and instead of saying, “Is that the house with all the Halloween decorations still up?” the guy asked Kelli, “Is that the house with the porch with all the awesome people on it all the time?”

It seems we’re now locally famous. How about that?

And then there are the people who end up tripping into a coveted spot on Awesome Porch, achieving a hug and a nickname and immediate entre into the core group.

Meet Chuck, a.k.a. Justin, a.k.a. JP. Kelli even called him Big Mac for a time, because he worked at McDonald’s, but to us it was just Justin. Justin who lives across the street, who has two younger siblings, who likes Buffy & Angel, and who has someone else’s kidney. Justin’s a good kid. We like Justin.

And then, one ill-fated Saturday night,  Justin threw up all over the bathroom. ALL over the bathroom. I’ll spare you the stories about the light fixture and the broken toilet seat. Needless to say, the hippie is a God.

The next day, when Justin walked back over to prove to us all that he was alive and well, he got quite the ribbing. I was in the living room, listening to the porch through the open front door as they decided what terrible teasing nickname we could give Justin that would torture him for the rest of his life.

“Chuck!” I yelled through the screen door. It was simple, really. Obvious. The porch laughed. And so Chuck was born.

Last weekend, Kelli bought a new toilet seat. As penance, Chuck had to install it. Click on the picture below to forward through the photographic montage.  We’ve still got the old one — I think we’re all going to autograph it and bestow it upon him at the next Awesome Porch gathering.

Toilet seat: $10.

Tossing your cookies until you’re passed out on the bathroom tile: all your pride & humility.

Getting a nickname on Awesome Porch: priceless.

Have you got what it takes to be a member of Awesome Porch?

1 Comment | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Magic in the Air

I had a very surreal moment on Sunday. It was one of those moments where you almost fall asleep, and then you open your eyes and think, “Wait…THIS is reality? Holy crap that’s AWESOME!”

Living here in this house–this house with an Awesome Porch and a Snuggle Couch and a Needy Cat, two of which have their own Twitter account–has been like attending a party I never have to leave. It’s just this constant dynamic state of motion and emotion, full of amazing and smart and beautiful people who add to the hilarity. We are all characters who enhance the plot–none of us are just along for the ride.

It’s magic–this house is full of it–and it’s better when shared.

I woke up laughing for the second day in a row this morning, remembering Kram and his faceplant into the street on Saturday night. The whole scene couldn’t have been pulled off better had it been choreographed–I honestly believe Chevy Chase Himself would have given the boy an award had he been present. It wasn’t just the fall, or that it happened in the middle of a serious conversation I was having with the Gypsy, it was that Kram tripped, fell, and just laid there in the street for what had to have been a full minute.

There was silence as we all watched him. Kelli and I by the Alien Lesbian Cow fence, his friends from the sidewalk above him, and the house & contents of Awesome Porch.  Bob slowly sauntered down the front walk, crossed the street to where Kram laid, and bent down.

“So, how’s that working out for ya?”

Kram got up, brushed himself off.

“What do we say?” the Gypsy yelled at her son from the fence.

Kram raised both hands to his audience. “It’s all good. I’m good. It’s all good.” And his adoring fans hooted and hollered as he walked off the field of play.

There was so much more than that moment, though. There always is. There were pansteaks and pigtails and nail polish. There were stripey socks and toe socks and Twister. There were Ninja Turtles and Snuggie herpes. There was ice and rain and a trip to the adult store and another funeral. There were tummy aches and belly laughs and too much cuddling and not enough sleep. On the last day, there were cookies.

That’s where the Gypsy caught the magic on camera.

Cookie time!

See the magic in the air?

Qwee’s birthday was Thursday, and her favorite cookie in the whole world is a Greek pastry called koulourakia. And as any refugee princess worth her salt never flees without her recipe box, I decided to make them for her. I also decided it would be fun to have a little help from my friends.

When Kelli took the first picture, she laughed and said, “My god, there’s so much flour in the air, the flash keeps catching it. It looks like you’re surrounded by snow. Or ghostly orbs!”

Personally, I prefer to think of it as magic. Fairy dust. Princess glitter. There’s nothing to say that’s not what it actually was.

Awesome Porch is a magic place. Things happen here that don’t just happen everywhere. We’ve all come to accept that. The fun part is, those things still continue to surprise us. Because nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. Nor do they expect bullhorns and flashing red lights at 8pm on a Sunday.

The house was quite–the first time it had been quiet for weeks. Kelli had found The Philadelphia Story on AMC, heated up a bowl of leftover potatoes, and watched the movie with her eyes closed. I got comfy with a blanket & pillow on the floor. Kram sat on the other end of the couch, playing Mario but still commenting on the film. Lilwenchi sat in the rocking chair with a laptop and headphones, content in her own little world. Until the bullhorns and flashing red lights.

“We’re surrounded!” yelled Kram, leaping to his feet.

“It’s SANTA!” yelled Lilwenchi.

“What the hell?” said the Gypsy, and we all ran out onto the porch in time for the second fire truck to pass by, this one bearing a smiling and waving Mr. and Mrs. Claus.

The bullhorn wished us a Merry Christmas. “Hi, Santa! Hi, Mrs. Claus! Merry Christmas!” The four of us jumped and yelled and waved and cheered. The fire truck paused in front of the house long enough to honk and run the siren for us, and the third truck did the same when it passed. The rest of the neighborhood stayed dark. We wondered if anyone else bothered to enjoy the impromptu parade.

Not that it matters what anyone else thinks. Because we did.

We don't need no stinkin' sleigh!

We don't need no stinkin' sleigh!

Awesome Porch = still awesome.

3 Comments | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Midnight Snowpics

Last night, a few minutes after 11:00pm, I shut my laptop, stood up from the kitchen table, and announced that I was going to bed. In response, Murphy blew a transformer and the neighborhood went black.

Bob stood up from our little computer huddle and realized that in the hour since we’d gone workaholic, there was a solid inch of snow outside and it was still falling.

There was no bed after that. I ran straight out into the street and wrote my name in four-foot tall letters down the road. Bob got me some real gloves — proper ones with fingers. And fur. And then I made snowmen. I can’t actually remember the last time I made a real snowman. With real snow. So I made two. ‘Cause I can’t have a Dickie without a Tomo. And they can’t not have the ingredients for squirrel fixins.

Pics are in the latest Picasa album: click the snow-covered Princess to see them!

Midnight Snowprincess!

Midnight Snowprincess!

2 Comments | Tags: , , , , , , , , ,