Holiday observances
"If I was a teenage girl, I would be GA-GA!"
Strange. Yet, you're the one gushing and I'm going to go home and watch that House marathon until I'm blue in the face.
It was Thanksgiving day. My brother and I were obligated to pay a visit to my father's house before we went off to the real dinner my grandma's--maybe this is ironic. I don't know. Anyway, there was: my dad, Dino, and Dino's parents, who are always just the best company. I mentioned before that I was forced to watch the Detroit Lions get their asses handed to them (which wasn't a big deal because they just snap on nowadays), and that's just what we were doing. The halftime entertainment was Jesse McCartney. I can no longer remember when or why he was famous, let alone recognize him on my own, which was probably why he got the gig.
Dino wasn't in the best mood. It could have been a number of things, really. I've stopped caring if I find out or not. Still, she took every opportunity to pick on me, including another stab at my taste (or lack thereof) in boys. She certainly is into the young crowd, amirite? Shia LaBeouf, Jesse McCartney... I could guarantee the list goes on.
Stupid me even felt guilty for a second that I wasn't sexually attracted to him. WTF, self? If anything, she should be the one feeling awkward for crushing on someone half her age. I'm not sure I'll ever understand how anyone could physically prefer a twenty-something to a forty-something, especially if you are a forty-something. To give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe it has something to do with that whole "greener grass" ideology, but I highly doubt it.
NO CONTEST.
To apply something from psychology, I think she really is stuck with the mentality of a teenager. She wants to relive her high school days and is devastated that she can't. That would explain why she's always so critical of me. More friends! More parties! More dating! She was on the gymnastics team! She traveled the country! She went to her freshman prom with a senior football player!
Good-for-fucking-you. And I bet you were a whore, too. And I bet you got drunk and let those football players kiss you and touch you. And I bet you thought you were the luckiest girl, because your mother is rich, your father adores you, and you had "hot" boyfriend.
That's another thing, your father. I've learned much over these past few years, that no two father-daughter relationships are alike, but yours hasn't seemed to have matured in decades. She's mentioned so many times how much she respects her father, how much she prefers him to her mother, I'd be tempted to say "Electra complex" if he wasn't so old for her. xD
"I like your name, dad. 'Doug.' It sounds so... masculine! Very many and tough, you know?" Tell me that's not at least a little odd, flist. Would it help if I said she was beaming when she said that?
Where it bugs me, though, is how she'll impose on our relationship with our father. One good-hearted "I'm getting a glare from your head!" a la Whose Line?, and immediately she scolds us for disrespecting our parents. Um, fuck you. Lighten up; this isn't the 19th century.
I have no sympathy for my step-mother. She needs to grow up. I know she's not in this alone, of course, but I have no respect for a woman who would pursue a married man. If he's by nature a cheater, then leave him alone. Don't get involved. You could have controlled your end, but you chose to go along. You probably thought it was exciting being "the other woman." So, yes, now you're getting punished for being so naive that you thought you could get him to divorce his wife and leave his kids and everything would be fine. I have every right to despise you.
I almost forgot: what ever happened to that first husband of yours? Oh, I would die to hear that story. Did he cheat on you? Is that why you dated my father? To get some sort of revenge? Did you think it was ok to start a chain reaction? Fair?
All I can say is that I hope every day that my father regrets having met you. He's a bit of a misogynist already, but I hope he recognizes how disgraceful a human being you are. And for the sake of humanity I hope you two never breed.
***
My step-grandpa still thinks Nolan and I are retarded. I truthfully believe he makes reference to old car models and mythology just to catch us with a "Oh, you don't know? Well, quite a few years ago there was..." I swear he gets way too much of an ego trip out of correcting us.
"Do you know who the titans were?"
Asshole. Teacher or no, no one should get this much satisfaction out of cornering children. Of course I knew what titans were, but who? I could guess, but which would provide a softer landing: no answer, or a wrong one?"
"They were, uh..." I began. No answer? Guess. No. Guess. "From an ancient... um... ancient civilization? I don't know. I give up." That last part had been for my own benefit.
He went on to tell us stories about how the titans were semi-gods from Greek mythology and I just sat there waiting for him to stop talking. I thought about mentioning how we were reading The Iliad and The Aeneid in Advanced Placement English just to redeem some credit, but by the time he finally shut up I didn't care anymore.
This one's a gem: Step-grandpa was in the middle of some story about factory pollution when--plot twist!--Dino suggested our intelligence was inferior.
"... and that's when the EPA set up a..."
"They don't know what the EPA is, dad."
A window! Dear god, a window!
"Environmental Protection Agency--!" If there was zeal in my voice, no one pointed it out.
"Very good. So, the EPA..."
I don't wish to earn his praise, but I won't stand for an old, upper-middle-class, economics teacher thinking I don't know my government agencies.
***
Nothing makes me more thankful for the family I was born into than the family I was forced to join. Later, at my grandma's house, my mom even prompted me to share a couple of my best (worst?) Dino moments.
Five years ago I would have gotten in trouble for what my mother calls my "poor, picked-on Annie" routine, but suddenly it's my party trick and I'm happy to oblige.
In the living room with two aunts, my grandpa, and my mom, I shared much of the above (save for the "I fucking hate Deanna" rant), and my mom eagerly joined in. Normally I hate it when my mom pretends to know what it's like to spend a weekend with those two, but I must have told her enough because she summed them up nicely.
Hell, my mom had a couple of my stories that I'd forgotten.
"Remember that one time you came home, and you said you were eating dinner and your place mat was dirty and you went to flip it over so you could have a clean side, and you flipped it, but then you realize you flipped it last time because it was even dirtier? You just wanted a clean spot to eat and there wasn't one!"
If anything keeps me patient, it's the knowledge that everything will be funny some day.
Strange. Yet, you're the one gushing and I'm going to go home and watch that House marathon until I'm blue in the face.
It was Thanksgiving day. My brother and I were obligated to pay a visit to my father's house before we went off to the real dinner my grandma's--maybe this is ironic. I don't know. Anyway, there was: my dad, Dino, and Dino's parents, who are always just the best company. I mentioned before that I was forced to watch the Detroit Lions get their asses handed to them (which wasn't a big deal because they just snap on nowadays), and that's just what we were doing. The halftime entertainment was Jesse McCartney. I can no longer remember when or why he was famous, let alone recognize him on my own, which was probably why he got the gig.
Dino wasn't in the best mood. It could have been a number of things, really. I've stopped caring if I find out or not. Still, she took every opportunity to pick on me, including another stab at my taste (or lack thereof) in boys. She certainly is into the young crowd, amirite? Shia LaBeouf, Jesse McCartney... I could guarantee the list goes on.
Stupid me even felt guilty for a second that I wasn't sexually attracted to him. WTF, self? If anything, she should be the one feeling awkward for crushing on someone half her age. I'm not sure I'll ever understand how anyone could physically prefer a twenty-something to a forty-something, especially if you are a forty-something. To give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe it has something to do with that whole "greener grass" ideology, but I highly doubt it.
NO CONTEST.
To apply something from psychology, I think she really is stuck with the mentality of a teenager. She wants to relive her high school days and is devastated that she can't. That would explain why she's always so critical of me. More friends! More parties! More dating! She was on the gymnastics team! She traveled the country! She went to her freshman prom with a senior football player!
Good-for-fucking-you. And I bet you were a whore, too. And I bet you got drunk and let those football players kiss you and touch you. And I bet you thought you were the luckiest girl, because your mother is rich, your father adores you, and you had "hot" boyfriend.
That's another thing, your father. I've learned much over these past few years, that no two father-daughter relationships are alike, but yours hasn't seemed to have matured in decades. She's mentioned so many times how much she respects her father, how much she prefers him to her mother, I'd be tempted to say "Electra complex" if he wasn't so old for her. xD
"I like your name, dad. 'Doug.' It sounds so... masculine! Very many and tough, you know?" Tell me that's not at least a little odd, flist. Would it help if I said she was beaming when she said that?
Where it bugs me, though, is how she'll impose on our relationship with our father. One good-hearted "I'm getting a glare from your head!" a la Whose Line?, and immediately she scolds us for disrespecting our parents. Um, fuck you. Lighten up; this isn't the 19th century.
I have no sympathy for my step-mother. She needs to grow up. I know she's not in this alone, of course, but I have no respect for a woman who would pursue a married man. If he's by nature a cheater, then leave him alone. Don't get involved. You could have controlled your end, but you chose to go along. You probably thought it was exciting being "the other woman." So, yes, now you're getting punished for being so naive that you thought you could get him to divorce his wife and leave his kids and everything would be fine. I have every right to despise you.
I almost forgot: what ever happened to that first husband of yours? Oh, I would die to hear that story. Did he cheat on you? Is that why you dated my father? To get some sort of revenge? Did you think it was ok to start a chain reaction? Fair?
All I can say is that I hope every day that my father regrets having met you. He's a bit of a misogynist already, but I hope he recognizes how disgraceful a human being you are. And for the sake of humanity I hope you two never breed.
***
My step-grandpa still thinks Nolan and I are retarded. I truthfully believe he makes reference to old car models and mythology just to catch us with a "Oh, you don't know? Well, quite a few years ago there was..." I swear he gets way too much of an ego trip out of correcting us.
"Do you know who the titans were?"
Asshole. Teacher or no, no one should get this much satisfaction out of cornering children. Of course I knew what titans were, but who? I could guess, but which would provide a softer landing: no answer, or a wrong one?"
"They were, uh..." I began. No answer? Guess. No. Guess. "From an ancient... um... ancient civilization? I don't know. I give up." That last part had been for my own benefit.
He went on to tell us stories about how the titans were semi-gods from Greek mythology and I just sat there waiting for him to stop talking. I thought about mentioning how we were reading The Iliad and The Aeneid in Advanced Placement English just to redeem some credit, but by the time he finally shut up I didn't care anymore.
This one's a gem: Step-grandpa was in the middle of some story about factory pollution when--plot twist!--Dino suggested our intelligence was inferior.
"... and that's when the EPA set up a..."
"They don't know what the EPA is, dad."
A window! Dear god, a window!
"Environmental Protection Agency--!" If there was zeal in my voice, no one pointed it out.
"Very good. So, the EPA..."
I don't wish to earn his praise, but I won't stand for an old, upper-middle-class, economics teacher thinking I don't know my government agencies.
***
Nothing makes me more thankful for the family I was born into than the family I was forced to join. Later, at my grandma's house, my mom even prompted me to share a couple of my best (worst?) Dino moments.
Five years ago I would have gotten in trouble for what my mother calls my "poor, picked-on Annie" routine, but suddenly it's my party trick and I'm happy to oblige.
In the living room with two aunts, my grandpa, and my mom, I shared much of the above (save for the "I fucking hate Deanna" rant), and my mom eagerly joined in. Normally I hate it when my mom pretends to know what it's like to spend a weekend with those two, but I must have told her enough because she summed them up nicely.
Hell, my mom had a couple of my stories that I'd forgotten.
"Remember that one time you came home, and you said you were eating dinner and your place mat was dirty and you went to flip it over so you could have a clean side, and you flipped it, but then you realize you flipped it last time because it was even dirtier? You just wanted a clean spot to eat and there wasn't one!"
If anything keeps me patient, it's the knowledge that everything will be funny some day.