Seasons Greetings. If I had it my way, this would be the only update you received from Edgewood Lane, but rumor has it a Christmas card is in the works. There were tears, shouting and slammed doors in the annual struggle to find an image where the six of us come across as a semi-functional and happy family. This gets harder and harder each year. Someone had their eyes closed in the one picture I looked presentable in this year. Because this pic was a no-go, I suggested this be the year we go the righteous route and send a card with the nativity scene on the cover with a scripture from Luke inside. My suggestion was nixed quicker than Charlie Brown’s tree.
I’m over it, promise.
I begin with the non-update of 2015: Morgan was in China. It took her three stints abroad to wise up and realize Taiwan is the Coke Zero of China, meaning she doesn’t encounter as many mothers asking her to hold their infants and take a picture with them when she’s walking down the street as she does in mainland China. Despite its slightly more Western-friendly environment, Taiwan is not perfect. Proof: Morgan signed up for a 16-mile race in Taipei, only to find out after the race that she had actually run 18 miles because they mismeasured the course. Lesson: You can take Taiwan out of China, but you can’t take the China out of Taiwan.
She seems to be enjoying herself school despite the workload. Her professor made her class sign a contract that they would commit to studying a minimum of 28 hours a week. Impressive.
How are her language skills? No idea. She recounted one time she misunderstood someone at a restaurant and accidentally ordered (and ate) pig snout shavings. If she ever finishes the program, I am looking into getting her a job as Cinderella when Shanghai Disney opens in 2016. My parents would prefer she did all this “China stuff” in San Francisco.
Tim still goes to school 10 minutes away from me. We sometimes do fun things like go hiking or road trip to Montreal for 12 hours, but mostly we do homework. The incentives include Chipotle and Chinese food because my fridge options usually are limited to frozen veggie burgers and expired spinach. Someone asked us if we were twins when we went to New York. It was weird. He went to some hippie music festival in Washington called Sasquatch with his friends. It’s exactly what it sounds like.
We went to Greece this summer because everyone got sick of visiting Kevin in eastern Europe. I would have loved to go somewhere else, like California, but Kevin’s lack of interest in North America gave us no option but to cross the pond and bring the party to him.
As most loyal FFs know, we don’t go anywhere without someone suffering bodily harm. Morgan and I fell off a moped in Santorini, which sounds really dramatic until you find out we were going 5 mph and didn’t even make it out of the parking lot of our B&B. The owner ran out to help us treat our bloody knees and elbows, only to be semi-horrified when we hopped back on the moped and went on our way ten minutes later. We had a scenic sunset to catch on the other side of the island, and the Tour de Paul stops for nothing. But you already knew that.
Kevin eventually came back to America, but not before living it up around popular destinations like Ukraine and rural Lithuania. He had so much fun there with some kids he met on couchsurfing.com that he missed his flight back to Prague and took a 16-hour bus back through the scenic landscapes of rural Poland. Who’s the FF now?
My parents are fine. I think. They go to a lot of weddings and concerts which are well-documented on their Instagram accounts. They’re gone a lot, which means Kemba goes to daycare a lot, where to my dad’s horror, they dress her up in tutus for Halloween.
I went through three phones this year, which forced me into my biggest achievement of the year–joining the iPhone mafia. Things got serious really fast. I joined the uninterested masses of zombies who walk and drive entranced by meaningful Buzzfeed articles. I send emails at 3 AM. I reply to tweets. If your story bores me, I will delete my email while I pretend to listen. I work on something called Snapchat. I estimate 3 months until I join Tinder and start dating an aspiring DJ. It’s a slippery slope, those smartphones. Nine months in and I already hate myself.
We’re spending New Years in Canada. There were tentative plans to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, but when that fell through, we thought “yeah let’s stay close,” and opted for Vancouver. In terms of net travel, I may as well have flown to Berlin.
Shout out to everyone who donated to my semi-running and non-training of the Chicago marathon in support of Mercy Home. You da real MVPs.
P.S. no one else signed off on this 2015 interpretation.