Friday 23 June 2006

Family Misfortunes

Tragically, there weren't enough of Charis' remains to 'reincorporate' her so we had to have a funeral instead.

I loathe funerals because it means one has to make polite chit-chat to relatives that one only sees at forced family functions. Weddings and christenings are other equally great places to be cheated out of hours of one's life (or unlife, depending on one's persuasion).

It was at Charis' funeral that I got stuck with the vampires from the far branch of the family tree. Luckily, only three could make it: Uncle Raven & Aunt Immaculata DeVyse, and Great Aunt Beryl DeVyse.
Honestly, that old bat* can talk for the Underworld. But only coherantly when she's taken her teeth out. There's nothing worse than Great Aunt Beryl sucking on her fangs to keep them in her cat's-arse mouth as she tells you - in great detail - about how young people don't look after themselves these days.
She only moans because she can't stand the taste of the new blood that's around. She much prefers 'Ye Olde Days' when one could sip from the blue bloods. Mostly because they were all too inbred, insipid and lifeless to put up any resistance. That and the fact she'd eventually acquired the taste! These days 'youngsters', i.e. anyone under the age of 90, have too much spirit, they fight back and, horror of horrors, they're too common!

Anyway, I found myself cornered by the canapes by Uncle Raven and Aunt Immaculata. I hadn't even had chance to fill my plate nevermind pop a vol au vent in my mouth (and they looked like chicken & apricot - my favourites). Uncle Raven began talking at me in his monotonous, level voice about how well his sons were doing in New York. He was interrupted now and again by Aunt Immaculata's breathy** reminders of how much money they were making, or how many young virgin girls they'd either 'deflowered' or drained.

As I squirmed, trying to catch someone else's eye - anyones - in the hopes of striking up another conversation and escaping, Uncle Raven uttered the dreaded words:
"So. Have you got yourself a young lady, then?"

Eeek!

My brain froze and my lips locked. Shit! What do I say? Why hadn't I rehearsed an answer? Why couldn't I remember the translocating spell to get me out of there?

Eventually, neurons and synapses flicked into gear - the wrong one - and I replied:
"Ummm... No. Not yet. Haven't met the right girl." I died a little bit more, inside.

Gaaaahh!

Why couldn't I just say: "Of course I haven't, you silly old sod. I'm a bloody, buggering poof! Are you blind?" before giving them both a withering look and inserting a jumbo sausage roll in my gob with a smug, self satisfied look on my face? Why?

At this point Immolation and Infernal DeVize, my twin cousins from 1746, 'just happened' to glide past smirking at me. Damn their telepathy. And damn them for not rescuing me.




* Almost literally. Beryl's not too good at keeping her shape in her old age. Many's the time we've found her asleep, hanging from the curtain pole with moth wings sticking out of her mouth.

** I think her corset was too tight. She looked like she was being squeezed to death. her boobs were spilling over the top like a couple of wrinkly blancmanges stuffed in two egg cups. Bleeurgh!

12 comments:

  1. Funerals are weird...a lot of idle chat seems out of place "how are you" "nice day" etc.
    But I'm glad that people don't have mind-reading powers at the last one I was at, or if they do I don't know about it, which I guess amounts to the same.

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  2. Mmm...wrinkly blancmange...

    It is vexing when one involuntarily reverts to closeted behaviour. A pox on impertinent rellies!

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  3. The question about seeing anyone is annoying enough to begin with when you're straight [I always have to smile and say, "No, still single"], but add to that assumptions about orientation and that must be even worse.

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  4. Idle chit chat at a funeral. I can think of nothing worse...oh wait yes I can! My Grandma (aka Spawn o' Satan) telling my and my sister to stop crying because we were making a scene.

    It was my Grandpa's funeral...which makes her husbands funeral. It was a very weird moment.

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  5. chicken and apricot? haven't tried that one, the ubiquitous prawn ones, the creamy mushroom ones I like.

    I can feel a post coming on . . .

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  6. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

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  7. Sorry! I made too many mistakes for the above comment to be decypherable, so it had to go. Well, take two-

    I like chicken, and I like apricot, but.. together?
    Am I not attending the right parties? Or funerals, whatever- pedantic, pedantics.

    It's definitely the curse of family gatherings- there's just no escape from the inevitable, "so hows your lovelife?" question- not even with translocation.
    And it's usually so obvious as well... hang on just one cotton picking moment- a jumbo sausage roll??

    Oops. Have I just lowered the tone?

    Love Toby x x

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  8. Dinah: Oh, they did. But I won't tell anyone what you were thinking.

    Spike: I tried the pox but vampires are stubbornly resistant to most illnesses & viruses. Must be how they manage to unlive for so bloody long.

    Snooze: Everything's worse when you 'walk on the wrong side of the road' - Well, I imagine it is - I just love the drama!

    D&T: The word 'weird' was invented for describing relatives.

    Frobi: I'm looking forward to it!

    Toby: You know how the rhyme goes - First the worst, second the best etc etc. Which would make Shiftclick the one with the hairy chest? Egad! I hope not.

    And no, you haven't lowered the tone. Well, no lower than it usually is around here. I'd have to have gone for the jumbo sausage to prove my point!

    I think love you too xx ;)

    Shifty: Being dead is so much fun! We can play together then. Yay!

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  9. Oh the dilema, to 'out' or stay 'in'. 'In', 'out'. You could just shake it all about!
    I think I forgot my medication this morning.

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  10. That rhyme strikes a chord but I just can't for the life of me remember what it is- I might have to Google it.
    I love Google.

    And careful, you'll make me blush.

    Love T x

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  11. Tickers: Only this morning?

    Toby: I think fourth is 'the Golden Eagle', if that's any help. I don't know any more.

    Blushing is good for you. The rush of blood to the cheeks brings essential oxygen and the like to your skin making it look radiant!

    Love IDV xx

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  12. Hi IDV, I actually like funerals. People generally leave their facades elsewhere.

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