Snerk.

I get occasional emails from one or the other of the parents that I suspect to an outsider would sound goofy, but it's normal in my family to get emails with subject lines like "lizard tails?tales"

My daughter, Jesse, just got laid off, so would have time for coffee! She is at [address]. Phone .

Awesome!

My mom only emails if several calls go unreturned and/or if she wants to lay down a serious guilt trip about something.

I guess she forwards Obama political messages as well.

Now I miss my mum and want her to send me dippy email. But we do speak more than once a week.

I get maybe one email from mom a month that isn't in response to something I've sent her. Dad, well, his are mostly work related.

I very rarely get e-mail from Mom. One of the last times she sent me one, she got cute and wrote it in that oh-so-annoying text-speak "just to be funny." I sent her back an e-mail demanding that she never do that to me again because I think it's just a horrible way to communicate, and she hasn't. She did call to tell me to lighten up, but I told her she helped to pay for my English degree, so she shouldn't send me stuff like that.

My mom's emails are fairly well-written, but she has a really distressing tendency to bury the lede -- "I've been meaning to ask if you guys know such-and-so from the fencing world. He fences foil and he's a freshman at Yale -- I didn't think you would because of the location, but I figured you probably know people who know him, anyway. His dad is my hand surgeon and I told him I'd ask. Oh, I broke my hand falling off a barstool!"

I need to go see my folks this week. Presumably on a day less headache-tastic.

One of the great things about dating guys is that my folks are supportive without ever wanting to know any details or pressuring me to settle down. Of course, I have had to fight the "If you want grandchildren, adopt another kid that likes children" battle since my late teens mercilessly.

My brother insists that basically, you keep the bottle of vermouth on the shelf next to the gin, and that's as close to his martini glass as the vermouth ever needs to get.

Now I'm not saying your brother shouldn't drink neat gin, but neat gin in a triangular glass != martini. Martini = gin + vermouth.

(Though I prefer mine with Ketel One and as many olives as the bartender is willing to give me. So sue me, I just don't like the taste of gin.)

ION, Dylan is next to me basically making out with his reflection in our full-length mirror. It's insanely cute.