It all began when...

During my junior year of college, I lived with a couple of guys and a girl who introduced me to "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." I loved the show, and was telling my family about it over Thanksgiving dinner. Now, the thing about my family and the holidays (or maybe just me in general everyday) is that there is drinking involved. It is my coping mechanism (as it must be for all of those other independent women from Mediterranean-American backgrounds) for dealing with my mother asking me when I will finally start dating a nice man. Nice and stable are her two favorite adjectives for my future suitors.

Anyway, I'm drinking my way through Thanksgiving. My aunt is going on a Republican, conspiracy theorist rant (Welfare, minorities, and Obama is a favorite of hers), and to pull the topic away from that one, I start to describe "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." Except: when I drink a lot, my verbal competence is the first thing out the window. You know how it's either one or the other with alcohol, speech or physical coordination? I can walk a mile drunk off my butt, but after 5 glasses of wine, I am capable of walking home, watching a movie, eating a can of tuna, and falling asleep in the fetal position on a love seat. That's it.

So my introduction to this fantastic, revetting television program that I'm about to explain to my family, in order to avoid scream-lecturing my aunt on the importance of social responsibility over the dinner table, comes out as "Oh my god! You guys have to watch this new show, 'It's always Phunny in Siladelphia.' It's some of the best comic writing on cable." My sister, Amy, who pokes fun at everyone whenever she can, bursts out laughing, unable to even respond because I am that unaware and silly. Needless to say, the family cut me off, and my aunt and I ended up going head to head on health care reform, gay marriage, and legalizing cannabis; they should have just let me drink more and sleep it off.

Recently, I moved to Philadelphia for real (or Siladelphia, depending on the day), and the above is where I'm coming from: frazzled, ridiculous, and a bit over the top in an understated way. Here's to a lifetime of drunkenly inverting first initials in order to avoid republicans. It promises to be a laugh, at the very least.