an exhausting experience. After all, they are just as much strangers to me as anyone else on

the street in a way. Christmas this past year was the first time I had seen any of them in the

last 10 years, and it took almost another year before I was dragged off to see them again.

The meal took place at my uncle Noah's house, he's my mother's half-brother, (they share the same

mother), but he's more than ten years her senior. Both of my mother's parents had passed away by

the time she was thirteen, and so she had to go live with him even though he already had three

children with a fourth on the way.

They've lived in the same house for the past 40 years and over time they just kept adding additions

to the house. What used to be a carport became a garage that later became a living room and another

garage was built on. Years later they would do the same all over again, and I believe I was smoking

in the third garage addition today, trying to avoid as much uncomfortable chit-chat as possible. I

feel so failure-esque around them. I say "-esque" because the things they see as wants or success

are not mine and they're just as likely to start liking Pollock paintings and Bikini Kill as I am to

start loving football. But still, it's hard not to make comparisons with other cousins in my age

group that seem to be fairing well enough.