Nausea, and some good stuff, too

Ugh. Does it make me a bad person that I was filled with loathing last night when my mother told me an "exciting" piece of family news? My mom uncharacteristically warned me that this is all very much, for the time being, on the down low (which apparently means I can't tell my sister, since she's the only member of my family whose knowledge of the secret might be of some consequence through me both in that I am actually in contact with her and she might actually give a damn). So here, the big secret: my uncle (aged...I don't know...but he's gotta be at least in his late forties as my mom's baby brother) has decided to propose marriage to his lovely girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend. I'm not sure what she qualifies as and my mom was clearly irritated at my raising such a frivolous question when faced with exciting and happy news and refused to answer my request for clarity. The would-be fiance is in her early 20s and recent left her home state, where she and my uncle dated for a couple of years, to attend grad school on the other side of the country. She's a splendid girl. Cute, very smart, slightly sassy. On my last trip home, I stumbled on a copy of Gender Trouble and presented it with her as a pre-grad school gift. She studies German history with an emphasis in Women's Studies or something of this variety. She's now been away from home for two years, I think, and she and my uncle have more or less kept up a long-term relationship. I say "more or less" because my uncle has always been...monogamy challenged? She always said if she ever found out about another woman it would be over between them. Things apparently changed this summer when she let my uncle know that she had met someone else, and since she's a self-proclaimed monogamist, my sense, and my mom's sense, was that things were over between them. My uncle was appropriately plied with drinks and good humor, I assume, and all was as it should be (I thought). Because, seriously, OF COURSE she would find someone else. Then, apparently, he's had the epiphany that if moving to where she lives is what is required to win her back, then goddamn it he's going to marry her and move. He's purchased the ring, and all that, and is apparently planning to pop the question on Christmas at midnight, where she will be staying at her parent's house (which is, by the way, in a really really rural part of the state). He's under a strict directive to inform my mother the next morning of how things turned out, so I'll be among the first to know, as I'll be home for the holidays this year. Seriously, if she says yes, it will make me so sad on more than one account. Then, again, if she says no, that will suck for different reasons. Thus the nausea. On the one hand, I'll have to participate in the celebration when a dirge seems more appropriate. On the other, just having to watch the vicissitudes of emotion on my mother's face betray her own emotional investment in this couple sounds excruciating. If I can manage to be drunk for that phone call (What do you think? Can I pull off a bender on Christmas morning?) it would be better for everyone, and if all else fails, it will be excellent practice in keeping my trap shut. Families are so good for such exercises in self-improvement.

The good stuff? I recently made the zombie finger cookies from Lindy Loo's fabulous blog, and they were fabulous. Most of them are hurtling through space for my stepfather's Halloween/Birthday party, but they were generally adored by all. STILL want to make some cupcakes, but I've not yet plucked up the checkbook to go purchase the pastry bag and all that. Reading Michelle Cliff and really liking her, so that's fun. However, I loved this comic from Married to the Sea. I hope you enjoy it as well.