Lunch with Emily

Had lunch today with Emily.  We talked about some mutual friends who she had spoken to more recently than I had.  It's hard to believe that we have so many people in common. 
She told me that Charlotte was in St. Louis, having recently had a baby girl.  She had also gotten married.
I told her that Erin was trying to get into graduate schools, including Sarah Lawrence.  Emily told me that she thought Erin was a great writer. 
We also had a long chat about relationships.  Neither of us is in a relationship right now, and happy to be.  (Sort of.  I would be glad to be with certain boys, but most of these boys aren't interested in me, and there's nothing that can be done about that.)  Emily told me that she is having so much trouble getting her own life together she doesn't have time to consider the extra problems of someone else.  This is sort of how I feel too.
We had some mutual friends who got married, and then the young woman just gave up all career hopes.  Period.  It was really something, because she was always carrying on about what a brilliant student she was (as someone also with a large ego, I didn't think she could even compare to me...)  I almost told her to drop out of school midway through, since she was not apparently planning on using her degree and why bother paying for it otherwise?  Emily agreed with me on my thoughts on that.
I had just been thinking about Ashley this morning.  Ashley has never had a boyfriend, and I feel sorry for her, but I found myself thinking about her desire for a boyfriend isn't about her loving anyone in particular, it's about having someone make her feel whole.  Ashley, in all the years of gripping about her single status, has never mentioned liking any one guy.  This to me indicates that it is not that she is in love with someone but in love with the idea of "love."  It's not even real love, it's an idealized version where love isn't hard work.  Anyone who's ever been in a relationship knows it is hard work.   
Times like these I wish I had a boyfriend who was flexible enough that he could just go anywhere.  But I realize that's a pipe dream. 
Maybe Emily and I will hang out some more soon.  I'd really like that. 

Church was okay.  The choir had a lot of unity among their sections, but as a whole, not so much.  There were parts where they were just off.  I tried to control my face so people wouldn't show my disapproval. 
One of the reasons I was excited to go to midnight mass was because this would mean there wouldn't be any children.  Which of course means that they only people who did bring a toddler sat right behind my Mom and me.  After the choir finished its first song, the little girl screamed "YAY!" and it echoed.  I was getting a headache.  Great. 
The little girl continued to scream during the service.  When the priest first ascended to the altar, she started screaming about Santa.  I considered turning around and telling her that Santa doesn't come to little girls who scream in church, because I could have sworn that my Mom told me that when I was a child. 
I guess what really annoys me about the screaming little girl is that you'd have to be stupid to drag your two-year-old out to a mass that starts at midnight.  And the church has a cry-room, and tonight it was totally empty. 
The priest gave a sermon on the historical background of Jesus's birth, talking about the Roman Empire.  I found myself thinking about Machiavelli's Monarchy, which is this eccentric argument about how monarchy is God's form of government because Jesus was born at the time of Augustus.  (Oh I know: where to even begin taking an argument like that apart.  I suspect this is why I've never come across anyone who's tried.  It's such a terrible argument no one even needs to refute it.)
People think history is boring, and no one in church was really that interested in Luke and titles, even though I thought it was interesting, but I took Roman history from a secular perspective, not a Christian one.
Right as we were going through the ritual for the Eucharist, the little girl behind me finally stopped screaming, but now she was sobbing.  That it took that long was shocking to me.  I didn't turn around to shake hands with these people because I was afraid my face would be all screwed up in disgust.
My Mom felt the need to give me a commentary of what was going on in the choir.  There's a new music director, and I hate to admit I find him very attractive in a vaguely Alan Cumming sort of way.  He was using an Ipad to play music off of, which I've never seen before, but I guess that's an application I had never considered for a device like that.
After mass I was able to avoid talking to some neighbors.  My family likes them but I honestly don't like most of them, and like I said before, I'm trying to avoid people I went to school with once because of the judginess of everyone.  I'm doing okay, and I'm grateful, but to some degree, people will always find fault with you.
We went home, and I was disappointed to realize church hadn't cheered me up the way it usually does.  I suspect that this is one of those things were I like church with friends or alone, and I found myself missing Paul again.
At home, my sister and Dad were making slushies with some new device my sister got for Christmas.  (She decided to open a gift early.)  She offered to make me one, but I honestly didn't feel like one.  I spiked some egg nog with spiced rum and that was okay.

My Dad went to bed and my Mom and sister went to watch a movie.  I saw that Invader Zim and Doctor Who were both on, so I went into another room to watch those.  And then ended up watching more of my hottness on Criminal Minds.  Which was fine with me.  I watched tv and did some creative nonfiction writing. 
Finally, around 3:30 in the morning, I went to bed. 
My Mom woke me up to open presents by texting me.  (I don't know why but my family has taken to texting me even when I am in the same building.)  And then Robert texted me "Merry Christmas!" 
I went downstairs to open presents because my sister was going to see her boyfriend later in the day. 
We opened presents.  I got some books, movies and music.  My sister liked the t-shirt I bought for her.  I'm still disappointed in myself for not getting her a purse like I wanted, but maybe that was for the best, since she got two purses for Christmas as was.  My sister ironically enough also got me a t-shirt, with a big cross on it. 
I went back to bed.  I didn't really sleep much because Jennifer, Ashley and Philip all texted me Merry Christmas messages.  I was surprised to hear from Philip, but happily so.  I've really missed him lately too. 
I gave up on getting more sleep and got up.  I went downstairs and started working some more on my writing.  My Mom came in and turned on the tv to a Christmas movie of some kind I had never heard of before. 
I thought about going with my Mom to the hospital to see my Grandma.  My Mom is afraid, in addition to all are other fears about her, is afraid that maybe she's lost her Medicare.  I really hope not, but this just seems like one more problem to deal with and we already have so many problems concerning her as it is. 
I offered to go, but my Mom told me to stay home because she wanted to stay all day and didn't want to come home early because of me.  So I guessed I was staying home. 
I took some notes on some ideas for romance novels. 
I tried to get some lunch.  My sister was doing some last minute baking, and it's kind of hard to get to stuff in the kitchen when someone's working on a food project.  When she was finally done, I tried to find something to eat.  I was going to make nachos (the only thing I've been really wanting to eat lately) but the cheese was gone and my chips were all broken up into small pieces anyway.  I decided not to bother.
Which is how I ended up spending my time in front of the tv.

Cocorific

One of my ex-roommates pointed me to this first great video of Conan scrubbing up his desk for his new late night gig.  I'm not sure about anyone else, but I'm disappointed to see him not take his shirt off.  (The little bit we can see through the dark t-shirt is pretty intriguing.)  This is just meant to be funny, but I think it's like that moment where Conan is playing guitar over his friends playing Guitar Hero; hilarious but also very attractive. 
I started watching Conan back in middle school, back when they would play him in the evenings before the previous night's Daily Show.  I loved him and spent a lot of time thinking he would make a great boyfriend just because he'd be random and strange all the time, but in an endearing way, not in the creepy or embarrassing way that sometimes happens.
So, yeah, I'm excited for Conan to be bringing sexy back, even if I don't really have a tv right now. 

Priority Number One

My Mom is out of town.  This of course means that my Grandma got so sick we had to put her in the hospital. 
I got a call from my Mom asking that my sister and I go to see her.  My sister decided that she didn't want to go because she wanted to go see her boyfriend.  She took the car.  On the phone, I snapped at my Mom, yelling "I already told you!  I can't go!"  I was about to yell more things when she hung up on me.  Then I was even more angry because my Mom hung up on me. 
It made me so angry to see my sister, in her usual scrubs, watching tv.  That's all she does when she's at home, other than the occasional homework.  She's taking what she calls an easy summer class, and she can't be bothered to see her Grandma in the hospital because she needs to see her boyfriend.  Not work on her homework.  Her boyfriend.  Priority number one. 
There are a lot of reasons this upsets me.  First off, my sister has not been to see my Grandma the entire five days or so she's been in the hospital, but I've been in several times.  Secondly, she decided the boyfriend was more important.  And lastly, she'll probably get away with it.
Sometimes I suspect my sister is given more leeway because of this boyfriend.  When we're on trips, she always gets to talk on the phone for him to hours.  I don't.  I don't have a long term boyfriend, and I don't usually tell my Mom about my trysts because I don't consider them her business (also, because they immediately become the gossip of everyone who comes into our house for the next six months).  My sister is allowed to bring him to family events, is allowed to hang out with him instead of doing stuff like helping with my Grandma.  My family holds this hetero-centric, monogamy-centric ideal so high that it allows my sister to take advantage of it.  It gets me angry sometimes.  Like now, when it's my Grandma's birthday, and I can't see her because my sister has the car to visit her boyfriend and I'm stranded alone at home.
After my sister left, I went outside for a little, trying to work off my anger.  It didn't really work.  All I could think of is how selfish she is and how nobody seems to notice and how she takes advantage of this.
When she got home, my Mom made another upset call, this time to my Dad (who had finally come home) about moving my Grandma out of the hospital.  At that point, it looked like my Grandma was going to be released the next day.  She was apparently going to need some help getting home and then someone was going to have to stay with her for the night.  I volunteered to help with both, though a second person would be needed to help with the moving her back to her apartment.  When my Dad asked her about it, she said, sitting there, in front of the tv, again, that she was going to the park the next day and wouldn't help. 
"Well, I can't do it," my Dad said.  "I'm working." 
My sister just repeated that she wouldn't do it.
Watching her, again, in terrible clothes, watching tv after coming home from seeing her boyfriend for five hours, too lazy to take harder classes, too lazy to do something with her life other than an occupation that she doesn't really care for and that is easier than others, too lazy to contribute all week when she's been asked to do so, made my blood boil.  I wanted to punch her. 
"Well, than we'll take care of it," I said, meaning my Father and I.  Because apparently she wouldn't.  I started walking out of the room.  This conversation wasn't going anywhere. 
My sister said something nasty in reply, but I was so angry, I can't remember what it was.