Can you spell S-H-I-T-T-Y?
Two days ago, mom and I exchanged the following dialogue:
Mom: I'm sure you know our anniversary is coming up on sunday and this is why I wanted to go out to dinner on saturday. I would appreciate it if you came as well on sunday as everyone is coming.
Me: Mom, by everyone do you mean the "royal" family as well? (a term I effectionately -- sometimes confused for sarcastically -- use to define my extended family members no one is really fond of)
Mom: You know... everyone!
Me: If it includes who you know I don't like, then would it be horrible if I didn't show?
Mom: I wouldn't be happy on my anniversary.
Me: Fine, then I'll drop by, make my appearance, appear happy to see everyone for 5 minutes, and leave. Is that ok?
Mom: I would prefer if you stayed longer.
Me: I'll try, but don't make me promise.
Yes... I would say that it's been "one of those days." It was my parents' anniversary and it didn't start out so bad. Last night I took them out to dinner at Toula (that restaurant at the Westin Harbour Castle) and it was enjoyable so everyone was in good spirits today. Dad wanted to get mom some roses and I had to drop off some beer at Samy's so I asked my dad to come along. We had a nice dad-daughter bonding time. We get home, mom's still happy regardless of our lateness which was a pleasant shock to the system. I help out my dad put up a tent in the swealtering heat, I help mom set the table and such and then the royals arrive with their "We can't say hi to you because you're a minor annoyance in our life, you have to come over, say hi, give us a fake kiss, and love us for being assholes" attitudes. Fine. I'm already used to that. I took about 5 minutes of that before segregating myself in a corner with one of my cousins and her husband who I had great conversation with about renovations and stuff. They're cool. Too bad they didn't bring their daughter. She's one of the greatest teens I know :)
Anyways, after my conversation was rudely interrupted (again, not news, already immune) I head inside the ACed house and settle in front of the TV and watch the World Poker Tour. I'm joined by my little 10 year old second-cousin who proceeds to explain to me what happens during each lever of his Scooby-Doo PS2 game. Fascinating. I start telling him what happens during poker and then he got really into it and was quiet for the rest of the day. We started to bet on who would leave next. Great fun. What was my alternative activity, you ask? Hanging out with the royals listening to them banter on about the Romanian stars and how they're doing, who's son married who and what they do and what they own and why it won't last or how it will influence Romanian politics and other such FASCINATING topics. Personally, knowing every detail of Romanian pop culture doesn't seem to add to my CANADIAN life. These people live in a country and follow the news in the other. That, to me, seems WHACKED. Do I seem a little annoyed at this point? That's 'cuz I was.
Oh no wait. Don't stop reading. It get's BETTER! How, you ask? I delve into the interestingly DIFFICULT topic of "Toronto Downtown Core." One of my cousins immigrated with her husband and child (the now poker-addict) and heard that Toronto has beaches. These people have been taken in by the royals. They've been here for about 2 years. They wanted to know where said beaches were (aka the Woodbine beaches) so they can take a look. They all live at Bathurst and Steeles, just so everyone at home is following along. So my know-it-all uncle who HATES to have anyone disagree with him (hence, royal) declares that the easiest way is to take Steeles to Kennedy and go south on Kennedy. Apparently that ends in the lake *cough* I muttered "Yea, if you wanna get there tomorrow, take that route. If you wanna get there in 30 minutes, go on Steeles, down on the DVP, get out at Lakeshore..." before I know it I'm completely interrupted by a snotty tone coming from my uncle saying "That's too complicated! The DVP is on the other side of the city." To which I got up, grabbed my purse and left.
Ok dumbass. This is where I can vent because I've obviously pissed off my mom and dad by leaving abruptly because of you. You've lived in Canada, in the same neighbourhood, for almost 10 years and you don't know where the f*cking DVP is?!?!?! It's only a main artery of the city!!! It can be easily overlooked, I know. What's even worse is that my cousin has been here for so long, and she's guided by YOU! Talk about the blind leading the blind. At least if you don't set that standard of knowledge about the city you reside in because you're too damn ignorant, LET SOMEONE ELSE DO IT! Don't take your stupidity out on other innocents.
So here I am, driving. FUMING. Replaying the last 2 minutes of my life and all of the things I would LOVE to say to those arrogant dumbasses. Yes, when I'm angry my insults are limited to "dumbass" "asshole" and "f*ck". So anyways, I'm driving over to Samy's house, my cell phone died right before I left my parents' so we had decided that when I get there I'd honk. I'm thinking about all the reasons why my parents are still entertaining these assholes, besides the obvious reason: to take the next three days and laugh at how dumb they are. Driving along, turning on a one-way street when, lo and behold, a cabbie. Yes, A CABBIE. And he was slowly slowing down until he reached a full stop. You guessed it, in the middle of the road. So I honk so he moves the car. It was fairly elongated. He decides it would be a good idea to respond to an irritated honk by putting on his emergency lights. I decide to respond to his action with another VERY irritated LONGER honk. This is starting to sound like penis envy. Moving on. He decides it's a good idea to get OUT OF HIS CAR and start YELLING AT ME for honking and asking ME "what's wrong with you?" in a very very thick Indian accent (i.e. Russell Peters doing his dad) So the dialogue went like this (look out for the inserted actions taking place around us):
Me: What's wrong with me? MOVE YOUR CAR!
Cabbie: No. I'm waiting for the customer.
Me: They have a drive way. Just reverse on it and wait on their driveway. Look!!! It's empty and RIGHT THERE waiting for you.
Cabbie: Just go around (motioning towards the SIDEWALK I'm supposed to drive over to go around him)
Me: I'm SORRY? Get real buddy. I'm not screwing up my shocks for a cabbie. (I was full out yelling at this point, people were on their porches watching the action unfold)
Cabbie: So just reverse off this street and go another way.
Me: If you missed the sign I will reiterrate what it said so maybe you can understand this time. It said "ONE WAY." So MOVE YOUR CAR. (he stares blankly at me notifying me that he doesn't respond to big words. By this time, there was another car behind me which felt the need to contribute his honk to the situation)
Me: The bottom line is, you're blocking the road. We can't get through, and I'm sure all the people watching this are fascinated to know why you can't back up on the customer's driveway to wait. (a half-drunk man runs out onto the street waving a beer bottle screaming "YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ROAD RAGGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEEEEE!!")
Cabbie: Well you'll just have to wait then.
Me: NO! I DON'T WANT TO WAIT!!! You're a taxi driver. You decided to be one because you consider yourself a professional. Now please tell me that a professional can BACK UP A CAR ONTO A DRIVE WAY. Go on. Show us what you got you professional driver you. (Cabbie looks at me with contempt, throws his arms in the air, proceeds to get back into the car. I start my car. He backs up his taxi on the driveway. Cheering from the street residents ensue... I drive another 100 m to Samy's and park my car)
Did I grow some cohones today? Yes, I think so. I can't believe I gave it to the cabbie raw. Am I proud? Yes. Sorry? No. I pretended he was EVERY CABBIE that has ever PISSED ME OFF. I'm sure you would've taken no prisoners as well.
Yes my friends. That was my day. And now I'm exhausted. I think I pulled a muscle in my middle finger, so I bid you all a good night.
P.S. Sorry for the long entry.
Mom: I'm sure you know our anniversary is coming up on sunday and this is why I wanted to go out to dinner on saturday. I would appreciate it if you came as well on sunday as everyone is coming.
Me: Mom, by everyone do you mean the "royal" family as well? (a term I effectionately -- sometimes confused for sarcastically -- use to define my extended family members no one is really fond of)
Mom: You know... everyone!
Me: If it includes who you know I don't like, then would it be horrible if I didn't show?
Mom: I wouldn't be happy on my anniversary.
Me: Fine, then I'll drop by, make my appearance, appear happy to see everyone for 5 minutes, and leave. Is that ok?
Mom: I would prefer if you stayed longer.
Me: I'll try, but don't make me promise.
Yes... I would say that it's been "one of those days." It was my parents' anniversary and it didn't start out so bad. Last night I took them out to dinner at Toula (that restaurant at the Westin Harbour Castle) and it was enjoyable so everyone was in good spirits today. Dad wanted to get mom some roses and I had to drop off some beer at Samy's so I asked my dad to come along. We had a nice dad-daughter bonding time. We get home, mom's still happy regardless of our lateness which was a pleasant shock to the system. I help out my dad put up a tent in the swealtering heat, I help mom set the table and such and then the royals arrive with their "We can't say hi to you because you're a minor annoyance in our life, you have to come over, say hi, give us a fake kiss, and love us for being assholes" attitudes. Fine. I'm already used to that. I took about 5 minutes of that before segregating myself in a corner with one of my cousins and her husband who I had great conversation with about renovations and stuff. They're cool. Too bad they didn't bring their daughter. She's one of the greatest teens I know :)
Anyways, after my conversation was rudely interrupted (again, not news, already immune) I head inside the ACed house and settle in front of the TV and watch the World Poker Tour. I'm joined by my little 10 year old second-cousin who proceeds to explain to me what happens during each lever of his Scooby-Doo PS2 game. Fascinating. I start telling him what happens during poker and then he got really into it and was quiet for the rest of the day. We started to bet on who would leave next. Great fun. What was my alternative activity, you ask? Hanging out with the royals listening to them banter on about the Romanian stars and how they're doing, who's son married who and what they do and what they own and why it won't last or how it will influence Romanian politics and other such FASCINATING topics. Personally, knowing every detail of Romanian pop culture doesn't seem to add to my CANADIAN life. These people live in a country and follow the news in the other. That, to me, seems WHACKED. Do I seem a little annoyed at this point? That's 'cuz I was.
Oh no wait. Don't stop reading. It get's BETTER! How, you ask? I delve into the interestingly DIFFICULT topic of "Toronto Downtown Core." One of my cousins immigrated with her husband and child (the now poker-addict) and heard that Toronto has beaches. These people have been taken in by the royals. They've been here for about 2 years. They wanted to know where said beaches were (aka the Woodbine beaches) so they can take a look. They all live at Bathurst and Steeles, just so everyone at home is following along. So my know-it-all uncle who HATES to have anyone disagree with him (hence, royal) declares that the easiest way is to take Steeles to Kennedy and go south on Kennedy. Apparently that ends in the lake *cough* I muttered "Yea, if you wanna get there tomorrow, take that route. If you wanna get there in 30 minutes, go on Steeles, down on the DVP, get out at Lakeshore..." before I know it I'm completely interrupted by a snotty tone coming from my uncle saying "That's too complicated! The DVP is on the other side of the city." To which I got up, grabbed my purse and left.
Ok dumbass. This is where I can vent because I've obviously pissed off my mom and dad by leaving abruptly because of you. You've lived in Canada, in the same neighbourhood, for almost 10 years and you don't know where the f*cking DVP is?!?!?! It's only a main artery of the city!!! It can be easily overlooked, I know. What's even worse is that my cousin has been here for so long, and she's guided by YOU! Talk about the blind leading the blind. At least if you don't set that standard of knowledge about the city you reside in because you're too damn ignorant, LET SOMEONE ELSE DO IT! Don't take your stupidity out on other innocents.
So here I am, driving. FUMING. Replaying the last 2 minutes of my life and all of the things I would LOVE to say to those arrogant dumbasses. Yes, when I'm angry my insults are limited to "dumbass" "asshole" and "f*ck". So anyways, I'm driving over to Samy's house, my cell phone died right before I left my parents' so we had decided that when I get there I'd honk. I'm thinking about all the reasons why my parents are still entertaining these assholes, besides the obvious reason: to take the next three days and laugh at how dumb they are. Driving along, turning on a one-way street when, lo and behold, a cabbie. Yes, A CABBIE. And he was slowly slowing down until he reached a full stop. You guessed it, in the middle of the road. So I honk so he moves the car. It was fairly elongated. He decides it would be a good idea to respond to an irritated honk by putting on his emergency lights. I decide to respond to his action with another VERY irritated LONGER honk. This is starting to sound like penis envy. Moving on. He decides it's a good idea to get OUT OF HIS CAR and start YELLING AT ME for honking and asking ME "what's wrong with you?" in a very very thick Indian accent (i.e. Russell Peters doing his dad) So the dialogue went like this (look out for the inserted actions taking place around us):
Me: What's wrong with me? MOVE YOUR CAR!
Cabbie: No. I'm waiting for the customer.
Me: They have a drive way. Just reverse on it and wait on their driveway. Look!!! It's empty and RIGHT THERE waiting for you.
Cabbie: Just go around (motioning towards the SIDEWALK I'm supposed to drive over to go around him)
Me: I'm SORRY? Get real buddy. I'm not screwing up my shocks for a cabbie. (I was full out yelling at this point, people were on their porches watching the action unfold)
Cabbie: So just reverse off this street and go another way.
Me: If you missed the sign I will reiterrate what it said so maybe you can understand this time. It said "ONE WAY." So MOVE YOUR CAR. (he stares blankly at me notifying me that he doesn't respond to big words. By this time, there was another car behind me which felt the need to contribute his honk to the situation)
Me: The bottom line is, you're blocking the road. We can't get through, and I'm sure all the people watching this are fascinated to know why you can't back up on the customer's driveway to wait. (a half-drunk man runs out onto the street waving a beer bottle screaming "YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ROAD RAGGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEEEEE!!")
Cabbie: Well you'll just have to wait then.
Me: NO! I DON'T WANT TO WAIT!!! You're a taxi driver. You decided to be one because you consider yourself a professional. Now please tell me that a professional can BACK UP A CAR ONTO A DRIVE WAY. Go on. Show us what you got you professional driver you. (Cabbie looks at me with contempt, throws his arms in the air, proceeds to get back into the car. I start my car. He backs up his taxi on the driveway. Cheering from the street residents ensue... I drive another 100 m to Samy's and park my car)
Did I grow some cohones today? Yes, I think so. I can't believe I gave it to the cabbie raw. Am I proud? Yes. Sorry? No. I pretended he was EVERY CABBIE that has ever PISSED ME OFF. I'm sure you would've taken no prisoners as well.
Yes my friends. That was my day. And now I'm exhausted. I think I pulled a muscle in my middle finger, so I bid you all a good night.
P.S. Sorry for the long entry.