Cluck cluck

I'm going to New York this weekend. As in "the City". I say that because to many people, just saying New York could mean "Upstate", and "Upstate" is not "the City". Though I suppose technically, New York could mean Long Island, but anyone going to Long Island would be from Long Island, and call it Long Island. (Pronouced: lawngeyeland.) Because Long Island is also not the "City."

And all of this is just a mindless preamble to a post about my lil' sister. You see, she has decreed the next month shall be "All Amy, all the time". ;-). Sissy understands the above paragraph. Actually, I remember visiting her office once, and they had transcribed literal spellings of common Tri-State area phrases, like "fugeddabowdit". (n.b. That was from memory, and not necessarily an actually New Yorker's spelling.)

Amy does epitomize New York. I've now lived up here longer than I ever lived in NYC. I lost most of my accent. I lost my walk. I lost that NYC swagger and mojo. Although in all honesty, I'm not sure I ever had any. Not like my sisters did anyway. Biggest Sissy could sell you the Brooklyn Bridge. Lil' Sissy would make sure you were happy with your purchase on the way out, making sure to tell you "how great your outfit was, by the way, and where did you get it?"

We are going to get sangria and chicken this weekend, at Pio Pio. Did you know that "pio pio" is the sound a chicken makes in Spanish? Amy taught me this. Also, apparently, her oldest daughter---who is 3, thinks the name of the restaurant is actually "Pio Pio-Rice-&-Beans". (I guess it's good she doesn't think the name of the restaurant is "Pio Pio-mas-sangria-por-favor".)

So, over sangria and rice and beans, Amy will supply me with insanely amusing anecdotes for me to blog about. Though we also have to do the Celebrity Death Watch.