Hiding

At the moment, I'm sitting in the back bedroom of my grandparents' beach house, hiding from all this family that has suddenly converged on the locale. It's not that I don't like them, of course––I have the best family in the world, completely insane, every one of them––there's just too many of them right now. It wearies me. Only moments ago, they started playing poker, after continuing the same tired argument that my brother and grandfather have been having all week, that is, whether to use the blue deck or the red deck and whether or not it matters. My grandfather insists that one deck or the other makes one of them win, and they shouldn't use it (or, if it's the one that makes him win, they should use it).

But at least I know who all of them are. Just recently I was at a family party of absurd proportions––the first of three parties (at least) for my grandfather "Big Dog"s seventieth birthday––there were people there that I wasn't even related to! But of course, the worst were the ones that I was––am––related to that I didn't remember. I'm sure most people have had the terrifying experience of being approached by some distant aunt, all of four and a half feet tall, having one's cheek pinched, and being told that she remembers when you were this high!

To which you have absolutely nothing to say. The obvious thing to start with, of course, is "who the hell are you?" But there's no way you can say that. You just have to smile and nod and hope she goes away, or failing that, takes mercy on you and realizes that you have no idea who she is. Obviously she'll do nothing of the sort, but go on about everything your grandparents, your parents, your cousins, and everyone else you ever met did when they were young and stupid, and all of their faults, as well as yours, justified by the fact that she is possibly the oldest person this side of the birth of Christ. Eventually, though, you may be rescued by someone else: a grandmother you know may come over and tell you who this is, or another, smaller, cuter relative of yours may come by and seize this aunt's attention, letting you slip away. But of course, every time you go to a family gathering, it invariably happens again. It cannot be averted entirely, but can be avoided by taking certain steps. One of the best is to attach yourself to someone who knows everyone there, such as a charismatic grandmother or uncle––the sort of person that would rescue you if you get caught––such that when approached by mad distant relatives, the one you've attached you to can tactfully make introductions and curb ramblings. Another good safeguard is to, when you see such a person coming, act as though you have something to do or somewhere to go: help carry something, join a cheering mob in egging on people pummeling a piñata, or refill your drink. Whatever you do, though, be sure to do it energetically, looking as though you're very intent on it and don't want to be distracted from it (though I'm not entirely sure how one looks furiously bent on refilling one's drink in such a way that doesn't involve knocking over the drinks table, which would simply invite distant aunts to criticize you).

Of course, the best method is to avoid such family gatherings altogether, but this is not usually possible.

I'm off to...continue to avoid the people in the other room.
Pax,
--Gazebo

Explain Myself?

So it occurred to me earlier that I might want to start another blog. Not because I have a whole lot to talk about, but mostly just to keep myself amused. After coming up with a clever title (although I'm not quite convinced that this is among the most heinous acts of tomfoolery, I like the phrase) and a URL to go with it (Hamnet was the short-lived son of William Shakespeare. This is not, and never will be, a ham network.), it occurred to me that at this point, I should probably come up with some sort of theme––idea––raison d'etre––thing. Something to write about. After spending nearly ten minutes deliberating––not a huge amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but far too much for something as trivial as this––I decided that I should instead take advantage of my ability to extemporate about nothing, and not worry about it.
To that end, I feel I should offer a disclaimer: this blog has very little to offer. I am not a political pundit, a social commentator or an art historian (though I may, on occasion, moonlight as any of those, or even a member of some other informed trade), and this blog will rarely, if ever contain much that is informative, educational, or worth reading during your lunch break. What it hopes to be is amusing, in such a way as to make you chuckle rather than guffaw, something to read when your code is compiling (that is, if you're not too busy sword fighting), something to bring up to cover the fact that you're playing games instead of working, or when your boss has taken a break to go out and work up his blood pressure a little more.
When I update this is likely to be correlated to when I have homework and how much I have: though I ought to update when I have very little homework, I'm likely to update when I have a great deal to work through and as such, am on the computer and trying to find ways to avoid working. My dear readers should thus be flattered: this blog and their amusement ranks higher than my homework. That said, it's perhaps best left to the reader's imagination what else ranks superior to my homework...
Homework aside, I hope to update at least twice a week, and not at all on the weekends––I should have better things to do then.

...Expect weekend updates.
Pax,
--Gazebo