Am I The Only One That Still Loves Friendly's?

This ode* to Friendly’s has to do with another story (I swear I’ll get to it), but it turns out I have a lot to say about Friendly’s on its own.

In case you don’t live in the suburbs of the Northeast U.S., Friendly’s is a sit-down diner-esque restaurant chain, that is slightly fancier than Denny’s but less fancy than Ruby Tuesday’s.
...And if you don’t live in the U.S. at all, I’ve made nothing clearer for you - although, side note, we went to a Ruby Tuesday’s in India so that’s apparently universal.

Friendly’s is famous for their ice cream, especially:

The Wattamelon Roll

 sherbet with chocolate chips - you’d think they’d clash but they don’t

And, most of all, the Cone Head sundae.

order it with Black Raspberry (purple!) ice cream

When I was a kid, the Cone Head was the thing. And, it needs to be said, Friendly’s leadership! If you ever stumble on this:

DON’T THINK NOBODY NOTICED THAT YOU TOOK THE EXTRA REESE’S PIECES OUT OF THE BOTTOM OF THE CONE HEAD.

There used to be bonus Reese’s Pieces in the bottom of the sundae and the menu description even said “with a surprise at the bottom” but they stealthily removed that about 15 years ago and I will NEVER forget. Hope you're enjoying all those Reese’s Pieces savings, corporate fat cats. Actually, the company has been struggling in recent years despite improvements made over the last decade, but I digress...

Friendly’s has been a weirdly big part of my life, starting with my childhood. Here’s a preview of my to-be-self-published memoir, titled...

Ice Cream Cone Dreams: My Life in Terms of Friendly’s

When I was a kid, there was a Friendly’s right by our house,which Amy and I used to walk to with our parents. Now that I’m living there again, I’m sad it’s no longer around, and sometimes fantasize about buying the building from Aboff’s and convincing Friendly’s to reopen because the building is still vaguely Friendly’s-shaped.

View Larger Map

My friends and I also used to spend a lot of time at Friendly's in high school. You know, just eating fatty foods, annoying waiters, writing songs and plays, typical trouble-making teenage stuff. The cool kids hanging out at Mill Dam probably had nothing on us.

Many years later, Tom and I bonded over how we both still love Friendly’s and ended up going there on our third date. (Hot!) 

I’m guessing the future includes our taking our kids to Friendly's, and my begging the server to hide some Reese’s Pieces at the bottom of my hypothetical daughter’s sundae until she gets old enough to demand one of their new-fangled sundaes like the Monster Mash or Vol-Cone-O or whatever.

And after that? A Black Raspberry ice cream IV drip in my nursing home? All I know is that my love affair with Friendly’s won’t die until one of us (the restaurant or I) does.

*Disclaimer: I’m fully aware that I should be ashamed of my love for Friendly’s.

Ms. PC's Baggage

By now, you know I'm a sitcom fan, but when it comes to the game show genre, nothing can compete with Baggage.

First introduced to my eyes and ears on The Soup, Baggage (hosted by Jerry Springer so you know it's good) seems like your typical dating show on the surface: sleezy, prematurely balding men get to be picky about which way-too-hot-for-them plastic Barbie they feel like going out with.
(I don't mean to oversimplify. The picking goes both ways and I'm sure the guys are too hot for the girls sometimes, but you get the gist.)

Regardless, relative looks don't matter much on the show because it all comes down to their weird, creepy baggage.

(email readers, click on the link to the blog to see the video)

My sister and I have often tried to think of what our baggage would be. These people are so crazy that it's tough to think of anything that would remotely be considered for the show.
But in light of my last post, I thought I would do all my worst cleanliness-related baggage.

Ms. PC's Baggage
(In order of embarrassment-level)

Round 1 (the personal item): I sometimes stare at dust for days or weeks before I get around to actually cleaning it. I only vacuumed up the dust bunnies at our old apartment after I saw little tiny bugs (don't worry, I checked, not bedbugs).

Round 2 (the carry on): I am afraid to clean a lot of my dad's house, including the drawers and cabinet under the bathroom sink. I opened one of the drawers, saw a dead moth in there, and just closed it back up again.

Round 3 (the checked luggage): I don't like to shower. This will come as a shock to none of my close friends. I shower, of course, because society demands it, but I don't like it. I could explain this further but, for now, I'll just say... I have my reasons.

So there you have it. Don't leave me hanging, lovers and friends. Feel free to confess your best (worst) baggage in the comments.

Daddy's Restaurant Rules

Happy post-Thanksgiving! Enough with the home cooked food; time to get back to eating out. As I draft this, I'm on my way to meet Daddy for dinner. Started me thinking about all his restaurant rules.

Each of these could be an individual Daddyism, as these are all verbatim phrases that have been repeated to Amy and me for countless years.

Daddy's Restaurant Rules

1. (Re: valet) They want me to pay them to park my car five feet away. You know there's a free lot right across the street, right?

2. (Optional) It's too loud in here. Let's go somewhere else.

3. Close the menu so the waitress knows we're ready. Close it! She's looking over here.

4. The waitress is coming. Get ready! Don't let her walk away; it'll be 20 minutes before we see her again.

Note: I was 21 when I found out you could actually say, "We need a few more minutes." and not be sentenced to starvation.

5. Don't fill up on bread (or chips), girls. 
-or- Don't forget, you have a whole meal coming. 
-or- Save room for dinner.

6. You get one soda, so save it until your meal comes.

6a. (Upon waiter refilling drink) Wait! Are those free refills?

7. (Added circa 2009) Do you have cash? (I usually say no.) What a surprise. I'll give you cash and you can put it on your credit card. Sigh, adulthood.

I will say, in Daddy's defense, that he had 8 brothers and sisters so they never got to go to restaurants as kids. Therefore he couldn't have known his rules would eventually drive me insane.

I'm not without my own quirks. Maybe tomorrow I'll give you Ms. PC's restaurant rules.

The Cast

In case you don't think like me for some reason (weird), you should know that I think of my life as a sitcom. Before I get any further into the story arc of this season, allow me to present the characters.

Main Characters

Jill (me) - Typical 20-something professional. I lost my burning desire to climb the corporate ladder a couple years ago but I work in a semi-important job to pay the bills. Like most people of my generation, I spend most of my time at work fantasizing about going back to college.

Tom (my husband) - A disillusioned chiropractor that actually is going back to college. But not in the fun way. Before he goes to PA school, he has to retake some of his prereqs from college because his credits expired (already? seriously?) so he's the "old" freshman on campus. He goes to school 4 days a week and works 3 days so I should just stop complaining right now. But I won't.

Daddy (my dad) - There is no need to give my dad a name other than Daddy because that is what he calls himself. Confused? You know the way a young father might talk to his two year old? "Daddy doesn't like it when you bite me." That's how my dad still talks to me. "You know Daddy's not big on birthdays." But you gotta love a guy that loves his little girls that much. 

His house is a mess but he's working on getting it cleaned up for us (at the last minute - wonder where I get it from).

Secondary Characters

Amy (my sister) - Amy has lived with us for the last 2 years in the city. She's renting a room from a girl in Queens for the time being. I'm going to miss having her around but Tom will not miss her cat Frosty and her constant shedding.

How could anyone be mad at this face?

credit: Rae

Gail (my mom) - Pretty awesome mom. Retired, lives about one mile from my dad. It's no secret that I wish we could live with her, but her house is smaller and fuller than my dad's.

Cutie (my stepdad-to-be) - Ok, his real name is Ron but my mom calls him Cutie and then my sister and I started calling him Cutie too because, I don't know, it's cute. He and my dad kind of have an Ashton-Bruce-8-years-ago thing going on, in that they get along and both cook (occasionally together) for family dinners. As a divorced kid, this is the most one can hope for.

Recurring Characters

I don't really know yet... my sister's boyfriend Ben? My mom's friend Aunt Kath that lives with her half the time? Maybe.

My friend Alice, who is also stuck living with her dad in Huntington? Definitely.

My in-laws, various Long Island friends of both Tom and me, my desperate alter-ego that attempts to manipulate a move back into the city? Probably.

Futon Week

And now...

The suckiest things about futon week (as it shall henceforth be known):

1- Having no TV in the living room. Don't worry, I survived with a combination of Netflix and the TV in my bedroom. Close one.

2- The futon. It wasn't so uncomfortable, but it was so not like a bed that I couldn't sleep at all the first night and slept crappily the rest of the week.

3- Packed our curtains + position of the futon + position of the sun relative to the earth this time of year = sun directly in my eyeballs starting at 7am.

Doesn't capture the true blindingness of it but you get the idea.

4- When my procrastination paid off and I had to stay up all night packing/moving, hopped up on Jamba Juice energy drink and Wendy's iced tea.

5- I miss Frosty! (My sister took her to their new apartment.)

 mrrrow.

Meet the Neighbors, Part II

As I was saying, we moved ...our stuff.

First we had to drop my sister's stuff off at her new place in Bayside... or Flushing? eh, Queens, anyway. Speaking of neighbors, Tom mentioned more than once that he's jealous that Amy lives so close to Dunkin' Donuts.

On our way to Huntington, we made a quick bagel stop and by the time we got to my dad's, our Super-Movers had unloaded almost all of our stuff.

As they finished up, we (re-)met the neighbors.

Bill, from next door on the left just said a warm hello and welcomed us.

I have to admit that the first "welcome back to the neighborhood" kind of sent a shiver of panic (is that a thing?) down my spine... or up it? Spine idioms are hard.

Then Jay, from across the street, who is my age and was just visiting for the weekend ...because he's doing enough with his life not to live with his parents.

Oh and hey! Running into someone from high school! So glad that I had decided that it was pointless to shower on moving day, that I'd rock my holey Bearcats sweatpants and my Jen's Pink Lady Bachelorette Party "NOT too pure to be pink!" t-shirt*, and that I'd throw my greasy hair back in some claw-clip/bendy-clip monstrosity.

I'm starting to get a glimpse of the awkwardness that awaits me.

Next was Jay's dad Andrew, who offered to help my dad clean up the house (which my dad refused, sigh).

And finally, Jean, from next door on the right. Her daughter Alex, a photographer/filmmaker, used to take photos of Amy and me. Alex also happened to be home because she was using her parents' house as a set for her latest project for the LA Film Festival (doing something with her life).

Also, Jean informed us that Alex is pregnant with twins at the age of 42 (go girl!) and that she's considered a geriatric obstetrics patient... ugh, I better get on this whole "kids" thing, one of these days...

and I'm gonna be 40! ...someday!

...ok maybe I have a few good years left.

*No offense, Shea, that shirt is awesome.

Packing

We moved today! Well, most of our stuff, anyway... we have until this Saturday to be completely out.

I'll get to the moving story but, first, here are some gratuitous shots of my sister's cat, Frosty (who has lived with us until now), helping us with the move...

helping me pack my shoes

helping me pack my suitcase

helping my sister, Amy, move her mattress

having a sit-in on the boxspring

For my husband, who said my first post was "cute" but needed more pictures. Ya welcome!