An account of my break...
Well, I've officially been back in the United States for a month now. Almost all of that time was spent in Louisville doing????? Nothing. I feel like a useless piece of crap. I've become totally stagnant and I feel just awful about it.
I saw a lot of people from my childhood in the past 31 days. One event that particularly sticks out is my aunt's New Year's Day Soup Kitchen thing.
My aunt is an interesting woman at best. She was born in Bardstown (famous only for its alcohol production), the young sister of a fairly reputable family. She was, and this is important to note, the only blonde on of the lot. She was thing, beautiful, popular, fun, and a cheerleader. Naturally, she became obsessed with appearances. She went to college, graduated a nurse and had, I am sure, several exciting affairs like surgical nurses do in "big cities" (Louisville is considered big). All the while, she was well dressed and properly entrenched as "the popular girl."
However, my aunt's not what you would expect from such a description. She married an engineer/painter, who is by far one of the most bizarre and hilarious men I've ever met. They lived in various houses with my cousins constantly beyond there means. And now, they throw parties with guests I know the rest of my family could do without. But my aunt is a trooper... She is not by any means self absorbed. She is still obsessed with her weight and appearance, but she speaks her mind and she is no dull knife. The woman went to bat against my father, who everyone is afraid of, when I wanted to go to college in Boston. She also never told me that she was the one who stood up to him. She was, as my mother put it, "my biggest cheerleader." Apparently, she thought that if anyone deserved a chance to get out of here and could succeed, it was me.
None the less, when I come home, I am subjected to these parties she throws. They are full of people from our parish whose children treated me like shit during my formative years. Yet since I left town and they know my face, they feel the need to ask me about my life. I show up to the party because I love my aunt and the food is usually worth the awkward conversations.
So there I was standing in the done up house next to the "New Year's Tree," (because God knows one tree isn't enough, we must have one for each holiday!) eating, and trying to be invisible when it begins. And the next four hours go something like this...
"How ARE you, Alison?? Tom, you remember Alison, Kathy's daughter and Martha's niece," says the East end, yuppie housewife in sweater set and dark pants.
"Tom" feigns interest and looks into his beer/bourbon slush/glass of wine/ect. He eventually finds another trapped man and they converse into the next room "to watch the game." Really, I usually catch them just starring off into space. I bet they're thinking, "How the hell did I end up like this? Wasn't I doing keg stands and sleeping with drunk chicks right before I got into this whole marriage thing???" Anyway back to the conversation...
"So Alison, how is Boston??"
"Good I guess, I've been in Australia for the past 4 months studying."
"Oh wow! We have always wanted to go there." Apparently when your married, regardless of where your partner is, it is expected that you use "we." Such as, "we like that armchair" or "we're pregnant."
"Yeah, it was great. You should go." At this point I am looking for a way out of the room, before the dreaded question comes...
"So what was your favorite part about it???" Okay, this is where I start to get frustrated. Regardless of where you've been for the last four months, how can someone tell you there favorite part about it? That is a long period of time. I'd like to say. "Having sex with my hot boyfriend who is still there," but I resist. Instead, I feed them what they want.
"The weather." It is at this exact moment I zone out for summing up my entire trip in two pointless words and one big fat lie. But of course, they laugh and eat it up.
"Ain't that the truth???? Well as you know so an so is about to graduate from where ever and he/she just can't decide where to go. I told him/her not too far away, but blah blah blah... When are you graduating?"
"May"
"Oh how time flies. (the one honest thing any of them ever says to me) So what are you going to do?"
"I dunno yet, get a job?"
"I should hope so."
It's at this point my mother or aunt rescues me with soem menial task or I run away. And that is pretty much how my break has gone...
I saw a lot of people from my childhood in the past 31 days. One event that particularly sticks out is my aunt's New Year's Day Soup Kitchen thing.
My aunt is an interesting woman at best. She was born in Bardstown (famous only for its alcohol production), the young sister of a fairly reputable family. She was, and this is important to note, the only blonde on of the lot. She was thing, beautiful, popular, fun, and a cheerleader. Naturally, she became obsessed with appearances. She went to college, graduated a nurse and had, I am sure, several exciting affairs like surgical nurses do in "big cities" (Louisville is considered big). All the while, she was well dressed and properly entrenched as "the popular girl."
However, my aunt's not what you would expect from such a description. She married an engineer/painter, who is by far one of the most bizarre and hilarious men I've ever met. They lived in various houses with my cousins constantly beyond there means. And now, they throw parties with guests I know the rest of my family could do without. But my aunt is a trooper... She is not by any means self absorbed. She is still obsessed with her weight and appearance, but she speaks her mind and she is no dull knife. The woman went to bat against my father, who everyone is afraid of, when I wanted to go to college in Boston. She also never told me that she was the one who stood up to him. She was, as my mother put it, "my biggest cheerleader." Apparently, she thought that if anyone deserved a chance to get out of here and could succeed, it was me.
None the less, when I come home, I am subjected to these parties she throws. They are full of people from our parish whose children treated me like shit during my formative years. Yet since I left town and they know my face, they feel the need to ask me about my life. I show up to the party because I love my aunt and the food is usually worth the awkward conversations.
So there I was standing in the done up house next to the "New Year's Tree," (because God knows one tree isn't enough, we must have one for each holiday!) eating, and trying to be invisible when it begins. And the next four hours go something like this...
"How ARE you, Alison?? Tom, you remember Alison, Kathy's daughter and Martha's niece," says the East end, yuppie housewife in sweater set and dark pants.
"Tom" feigns interest and looks into his beer/bourbon slush/glass of wine/ect. He eventually finds another trapped man and they converse into the next room "to watch the game." Really, I usually catch them just starring off into space. I bet they're thinking, "How the hell did I end up like this? Wasn't I doing keg stands and sleeping with drunk chicks right before I got into this whole marriage thing???" Anyway back to the conversation...
"So Alison, how is Boston??"
"Good I guess, I've been in Australia for the past 4 months studying."
"Oh wow! We have always wanted to go there." Apparently when your married, regardless of where your partner is, it is expected that you use "we." Such as, "we like that armchair" or "we're pregnant."
"Yeah, it was great. You should go." At this point I am looking for a way out of the room, before the dreaded question comes...
"So what was your favorite part about it???" Okay, this is where I start to get frustrated. Regardless of where you've been for the last four months, how can someone tell you there favorite part about it? That is a long period of time. I'd like to say. "Having sex with my hot boyfriend who is still there," but I resist. Instead, I feed them what they want.
"The weather." It is at this exact moment I zone out for summing up my entire trip in two pointless words and one big fat lie. But of course, they laugh and eat it up.
"Ain't that the truth???? Well as you know so an so is about to graduate from where ever and he/she just can't decide where to go. I told him/her not too far away, but blah blah blah... When are you graduating?"
"May"
"Oh how time flies. (the one honest thing any of them ever says to me) So what are you going to do?"
"I dunno yet, get a job?"
"I should hope so."
It's at this point my mother or aunt rescues me with soem menial task or I run away. And that is pretty much how my break has gone...