Ragtime is to Fausto as crack is to…

a) crazy whore
b) eager, young financial analyst
c) Amy Winehouse
d) all of the above

Obviously, the answer is “d.” Have you never taken a standardized test before?

Yesterday afternoon I found myself at the Neil Simon Theatre seeing Ragtime. Again. That’s three times in a month. I’m totally obsessed! Granted, Trish and I took my brother, Gerry, who was up from Texas for the holidays. But even I can recognize the signs of addiction. Someone call “Intervention.”

Anyway, there’s not much more to say except that this show continues to kick just about every show’s ass that’s currently playing. Not that it’s a perfect production, but as far as gorgeous stage pictures, often inspired direction, thrilling music and solid ensemble work, not much on the boards can beat it.

As for Christmas, well, it was the usual family craziness. Both sets of parents (the brown and the white), me, Trish and my brother Gerry squeezed into Juan and Val’s Jersey house. I won’t go into details, but damn, it’d make a great movie. Between catering to the various parents, singing for Christmas mass at Juan’s church, Val streaming bodily fluids from several orifices (don’t ask) and everyone making sure there was always a steady flow of food and beverage from the kitchen, there wasn’t much time left for celebrating Jesus’ birthday.

We did manage to have a full family sit-down breakfast on Christmas morning, lovingly prepared by the men of the house, Gerry and Joey (Val’s brother). And we finally opened presents around noon, just in time for lunch! Sensing a theme? Besides the usual sweaters and pajamas, I finally got my Christmas wish - a Slap Chop! It’s the little things…

Merry Christmas, everyone! And I don’t care if you’re not Christian. Yes, you heard me. The p.c. police can just haul me off to Gitmo. Love ya, kisses.

Where have I been?

After posting about the blizzard and the holiday concert, I realized there's a month-long lapse in posts starting before Turkey day. So since I’m stuck at my desk at work while everyone else is living large on vacation, I thought I’d hit some of the Pineda family highlights from Thanksgiving onward. Happy Tuesday!

Stuff it!

This year we congregated at Chez Val et Juan (that's "Juan and Val's house" for you mono-linguists) for this year’s Turkey day gluttony. The excitement started early when Val decided to add a slice of her finger to the candied yams. Yum! And since timing is everything, wouldn’t you know, just as Trish and Val ran out the front door on their way to the Medemerg for some stitches, mom and dad (the brown ones) conveniently pulled into the drive way. After waving the parents back, the ladies raced off, leaving Juan and I to finish up the cooking. Thankfully, we only had some reheating and basting left to do.

As per the normal Pineda Thanksgiving ritual, the day revolved around gorging, sleeping and crapping. Come to think of it, just about any gathering of two or more Pinedas seems to follow the same basic pattern. At least we’re consistent. This gathering was small by Pineda standards, with Val’s Aunt Mary and Uncle Doug and Trish’s friend, Billy, joining the family for dinner. Note to self (and everyone else), ixnay on the universalsay ealthcarehay in front of Uncle Doug. Just trust me on that one.

Sadly, our attempt at Black Friday shopping fizzled. In our efforts to top last year’s miserable shopping failure, we set our alarm clocks for 3 am. But somehow we couldn’t drag our fat, tired asses out of bed. Instead, we slept in and hit the stores at around noon. We lasted all of an hour before giving up on the lines and nasty shoppers. Why does bargain shopping turn people into total biyatches?! Instead, we opted to get all Martha Stewart on the holiday and hit Michael’s for some crafting supplies. I then spent the rest of the evening creating the gayest Christmas wreath ever, complete with red lily’s and feather butterflies. Yes, feather butterflies. Don’t judge.

Here we come a-wassailing…

As some of you know, I’ve been caroling with my good friend Donald Birely’s company for years. Unfortunately, with the economy in the toilet people haven’t been willing to pry open their wallets to pay for some holiday cheer. With only a couple gigs for me this year, the old top hat and tails didn’t see much action. I did manage to snag a couple of sweet swag bags from one gig. Don’t worry Donald, I didn’t steal them, they were offered to me.

While we’re on the caroling topic, I just want to know why people insist on talking to us while we're singing. Do they expect us to stop mid-Fa-la-la to reply? Are they testing our caroling commitment and waiting to report us to the caroling police? Please help me understand. And since I’m already in rant mode - do people forget that we’re human beings, not Disney animatronics? No, we cannot sing non-stop for three hours outside in 20-degree weather because you like “the look” of us standing in that 2-foot snow drift in front of your store window!

Sorry, I just finally needed to get those complaints off my chest and in writing. My fellow carolers have been bitching for years now about the same things every year and nothing ever seems to change. Okay, I’m better now. The valium has taken effect.

The Christmas Tree Shoppes…

Well, this is my new favorite store. Why? Where else can you buy flashing snowflakes, toilet seat decals and travel-sized shaving cream all in one store! And what do shaving cream and toilet seat decals have to do with Christmas? Absolutely nothing! That’s why I love this place. Go visit, you won’t regret it. But I have to say "word up" to the Paramus store. You kick the Springfield store's ass.

Well, I think that just about hits the high points. I’m sure there will be more family hijinks and bitter feelings to report soon, so check back often! Happy Kwanzachristmanukah!

Let it snow, let it snow...

So I haven’t even been to my apartment in Queens since the blizzard of ’09 (photo courtesy of New York Times) hit on Saturday night. That’s because I was happily ensconced at my weekend villa in San Tropez nuzzling up to a prissy pink-umbrella’d drink. And by villa I mean Juan and Val’s futon, by San Tropez I mean Jersey and by prissy blue drink I mean 75 out-of-control teenagers. Yes, friends, this weekend was the second annual Very Merry Pineda Holiday Spectacular, a benefit concert for the Pineda Conservatory. Well, what can I say besides I’m glad the damn thing is over. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for all the people who volunteered their time and talent so as not to make us look like complete asses. But it’s darn scary putting on a show without ever having had a full run-through with all the costumes, props or musicians and without benefit of a technical or backstage crew. Face it, when you’re basically winging the whole show, something’s bound to go to sh*t.

Having said that, it’s only fitting we had to cancel our final Saturday night rehearsal due to a blizzard warning. Sigh - nothing’s ever easy, is it? At least we finally had the night off to cozy up to a roaring fireplace sipping hot cocoa on a bear skin rug. And by fireplace I mean futon, by sipping hot cocoa I mean making 70 phone calls to parents postponing our concert start time by 2 hours and by bear skin rug I mean a cat-hair covered Snuggie.

Well, the show itself was not a complete mess. There were a couple of cluster f*cks, some missed entrances, a few sour notes and some creative lyric changes. The Pinedettes (our younger and slightly less leggy version of the Rockettes) were a hit with the crowd. But the drama queen in me was secretly hoping one of the non-Pinedettes would snap and go all Tonya Harding on one of the dancers. There was definitely some animosity between certain girls and "the chosen." Is there anything more evil than a jealous teenage girl? Methinks not. Oh well, that'll teach 'em to skip rehearsal when I decide to choreograph a number. But all in all, the concert fulfilled its purpose - to get people into the holiday spirit, to showcase the kids and to raise money for the Conservatory. The overflow crowd seemed to have a great time. And who can complain really, when for the price of a ticket you also got booze and brownies! I’d say, Merry f*ckin’ Christmas to that!

The Lovely Pineda-ettes - the newest addition to our annual concert.