My Father wanted to see if we could go out to see a particular astrological phenomenon, so we got into the car and drove around a bit, trying to see it. Mostly this involved driving around in the dark, trying to see if there was a point near by at which we could see it. No luck. Mostly this just meant blowing a half an hour that I could have probably used to continue working on some of my writing or talking to some friends.
It was very anti-climatic, not seeing anything.
Showing posts with label my Father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my Father. Show all posts
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Power Down pt. 2
I sat and cut out coupons today. It's the first time I've done so in years, and it was enlightening.
For example, when did they start putting in coupons for condoms? I was tempted to cut that coupon out, but on the off chance one of my parents saw it, I decided not to.
After that, my Dad and I went out for an early dinner. My Dad had been planning some culinary adventure, but without power, he was unable to start.
We talked about plans for my future education. I repeated some of the things I've been saying several times, and my Dad reacted to them as if they were totally new. This is always a little disappointing, because it means he's not listening to me.
We had dinner. Our waiter, Erik, was very cute in a clearly-a-Scandinavian way. I imagined him dressed as a Viking. I imagined the two of us in one of those Viking romance novels. (Only, one without so much misogyny.) He acted shocked when I ordered alcohol and had an id that indicated I was of age.
As we were eating, my Mom called. She had gone over to Elizabeth's house to watch her daughter for Elizabeth. This really annoys me. Like I said before, Elizabeth is cheap when it comes to babysitting, even though we are family friends and she is forever expecting me to just watch her kid. So last night when my Mom asked me to babysit for her, I said no. I said I'd rather watch my Grandma, where I wouldn't be responsible for constantly entertaining her and could get some of my own work done.
So, apparently this means that my Mom has to pick up the slack. Elizabeth knows that my Mom is crazy busy and stressed, since that's all she talks about. Elizabeth takes advantage of us, and my Mom lets her.
Sorry, I didn't mean to digress.
Anyway, my Mom called, asking my Dad and I to bring her food for her and my sister (who decided to drop by Elizabeth's house too...). So we got a salad and some crispy chicken.
I took a moment to check my email at Elizabeth's house, because they actually had power, unlike us.
The my sister mentioned that she had left the front door unlocked. Usually, she's so much smarter than that. Instead of calling us to ask for help, she just left.
We don't live in a really dangerous neighborhood, but every year people in the neighborhood get robbed. It's almost on clockwork. A group of people comes in around two or three at night, opens whatever doors or cars they can, and takes everything out and litters the stuff in front of the house. And then groups drive by and pick through, taking what they want.
For example, when did they start putting in coupons for condoms? I was tempted to cut that coupon out, but on the off chance one of my parents saw it, I decided not to.
After that, my Dad and I went out for an early dinner. My Dad had been planning some culinary adventure, but without power, he was unable to start.
We talked about plans for my future education. I repeated some of the things I've been saying several times, and my Dad reacted to them as if they were totally new. This is always a little disappointing, because it means he's not listening to me.
We had dinner. Our waiter, Erik, was very cute in a clearly-a-Scandinavian way. I imagined him dressed as a Viking. I imagined the two of us in one of those Viking romance novels. (Only, one without so much misogyny.) He acted shocked when I ordered alcohol and had an id that indicated I was of age.
As we were eating, my Mom called. She had gone over to Elizabeth's house to watch her daughter for Elizabeth. This really annoys me. Like I said before, Elizabeth is cheap when it comes to babysitting, even though we are family friends and she is forever expecting me to just watch her kid. So last night when my Mom asked me to babysit for her, I said no. I said I'd rather watch my Grandma, where I wouldn't be responsible for constantly entertaining her and could get some of my own work done.
So, apparently this means that my Mom has to pick up the slack. Elizabeth knows that my Mom is crazy busy and stressed, since that's all she talks about. Elizabeth takes advantage of us, and my Mom lets her.
Sorry, I didn't mean to digress.
Anyway, my Mom called, asking my Dad and I to bring her food for her and my sister (who decided to drop by Elizabeth's house too...). So we got a salad and some crispy chicken.
I took a moment to check my email at Elizabeth's house, because they actually had power, unlike us.
The my sister mentioned that she had left the front door unlocked. Usually, she's so much smarter than that. Instead of calling us to ask for help, she just left.
We don't live in a really dangerous neighborhood, but every year people in the neighborhood get robbed. It's almost on clockwork. A group of people comes in around two or three at night, opens whatever doors or cars they can, and takes everything out and litters the stuff in front of the house. And then groups drive by and pick through, taking what they want.
Monday, June 7, 2010
The Doctor's Again
In keeping with his recent theme of telling me what to do, my father felt the need to get me up today. I had gotten up early and gone out for a walk with Jennifer, and then went back to bed. I was planning on going down to see my Grandma and take her to the doctor's. I was annoyed that my father felt the need to wake me up because I know what the plan was and was going to get myself up. Also, I set my alarm, because, you know, I planned ahead.
When we got to see my Grandma, he was a pain in the ass. We found her outside her room, working at her beloved puzzle. We had to make sure she went to the bathroom and change her clothing and then get her into the car and then drive to the Doctor's office. With a normal person, this would be easy, but my Grandma is stubborn, can't move well, is slow, and needs lots of help. Because she wasn't in her room and takes ten minutes to waddle to what for most people would be a two minute trip, I was trying to be conscientious of time and not waste any of it. I asked my Dad to walk back to the room and get something.
"Don't tell me what to do," he said.
I almost burst at him right there. I'm so sick of listening to him, I'm so sick of hearing him. Every time I do anything in front of him, he takes it as an opportunity to tell me what to do. And not in a helpful way. In a patronizing, annoying, nosy, rude way. I'm so sick of listening to him. I'm so sick of him being completely unhelpful and then having the gall to make it about me telling him what to to do. He hasn't done anything to help Grandma since she came back from rehab, and he was more concerned with whether or not he was going to go get something a two minute walk away to conserve time and prevent an old lady from getting winded. God. I can't believe him.
I texted my Mom, telling her that how much I hated dealing with her "asshole husband."
Luckily, he made himself scarce. That's what he does when he doesn't want to do something at home: he disappears. He figures someone else will do it, and sadly, that's often the case. So I did everything myself.
My Grandma was being particularly stubborn. She weighs at least twice what I do, so I can't make her do things. She first gave me a hard time about the bathroom. Then about going to the doctor, whining the entire time about it. Then she wouldn't change into proper clothes.
Finally we got her ready. And then we drove to the Doctor's.
My Grandma has this thing where she will look at things as we drive past and make the same couple of comments. Usually, she notes how small the windows on people's houses are and how big the trees are.
For some reason, my father decided to talk to her about where we were going, asking her if she knew the way. Friday, she didn't even recognize her own daughter, so this was a stupid, and, as far as he was concerned, a rhetoric question. My Grandma always said she didn't know where we were going, as she always answers. After my father said something about it the third time, I was really annoyed about it, because it seems like a vicious way of causing her undue stress. She gets upset when these things happen. If it's necessary to ask her a question like that, sure. But if you already (apparently) know the answer and continue to badger her, then you're just being a jerk.
I'm so embarrassed by what a terrible human being my father is.
When we got to see my Grandma, he was a pain in the ass. We found her outside her room, working at her beloved puzzle. We had to make sure she went to the bathroom and change her clothing and then get her into the car and then drive to the Doctor's office. With a normal person, this would be easy, but my Grandma is stubborn, can't move well, is slow, and needs lots of help. Because she wasn't in her room and takes ten minutes to waddle to what for most people would be a two minute trip, I was trying to be conscientious of time and not waste any of it. I asked my Dad to walk back to the room and get something.
"Don't tell me what to do," he said.
I almost burst at him right there. I'm so sick of listening to him, I'm so sick of hearing him. Every time I do anything in front of him, he takes it as an opportunity to tell me what to do. And not in a helpful way. In a patronizing, annoying, nosy, rude way. I'm so sick of listening to him. I'm so sick of him being completely unhelpful and then having the gall to make it about me telling him what to to do. He hasn't done anything to help Grandma since she came back from rehab, and he was more concerned with whether or not he was going to go get something a two minute walk away to conserve time and prevent an old lady from getting winded. God. I can't believe him.
I texted my Mom, telling her that how much I hated dealing with her "asshole husband."
Luckily, he made himself scarce. That's what he does when he doesn't want to do something at home: he disappears. He figures someone else will do it, and sadly, that's often the case. So I did everything myself.
My Grandma was being particularly stubborn. She weighs at least twice what I do, so I can't make her do things. She first gave me a hard time about the bathroom. Then about going to the doctor, whining the entire time about it. Then she wouldn't change into proper clothes.
Finally we got her ready. And then we drove to the Doctor's.
My Grandma has this thing where she will look at things as we drive past and make the same couple of comments. Usually, she notes how small the windows on people's houses are and how big the trees are.
For some reason, my father decided to talk to her about where we were going, asking her if she knew the way. Friday, she didn't even recognize her own daughter, so this was a stupid, and, as far as he was concerned, a rhetoric question. My Grandma always said she didn't know where we were going, as she always answers. After my father said something about it the third time, I was really annoyed about it, because it seems like a vicious way of causing her undue stress. She gets upset when these things happen. If it's necessary to ask her a question like that, sure. But if you already (apparently) know the answer and continue to badger her, then you're just being a jerk.
I'm so embarrassed by what a terrible human being my father is.
Power Down
The power went out earlier today. Luckily, it was still mostly light outside. I had a long list of things I wanted to do, but most of them involved a computer, so I sat down and began doing some reading. I read two essays, finished the introduction for the book, and then went over a third essay's notes. (I read that last essay a few months back, so I really don't think it's necessary to re-read it.) I have a whole list of things now that I want to look up or think about or write about now. Some of them are actually very exciting. But I'll save that for later.
Without power, I had to sit in the rooms with large windows and work by them. My father felt the need to sit in the first room I choose, reading a book, probably a biography. (All old people, it seems, like biographies. Which would be fine if they had better taste in people to be interested in.) Then he would make all sorts of noise that I found very distracting. So I moved to the kitchen, also with a large enough window I could sit and work by.
But of course that meant my father had to come in and make tons of noise there to. I moved back to the first room. He came into the first room, so I'm back in the kitchen. Then he's back in the kitchen, trying to fix something.
This is one of the many things that irritates my about him. He's so rude. You'll clearly be doing something, like talking on the phone, and he always, no matter what, manages to want to distract you, by talking to you.
Finally, I got all the reading I wanted done. I went upstairs. I considered calling Dan. He would probably have a lot to say about us being without power and maybe I could make amends for the insensitive things I said the last time I spoke to him.
Then I looked outside. We had lost power, presumably, because it was raining. But the raining stopped about twenty minutes after the power went out. So I decide to go out.
I always try not to leave a lot of time to talk to my dad. I quickly say that I am going out for a walk, and then he feels the need to tell me where I should walk.
This is another thing that makes me crazy. He is always telling me what to do like I'm four. I'm twenty-two, I'm fine, thanks, go away now. I can't do anything in his line of sight without him telling me how to do it. I wish I could say that I'm the only one who does this, but I've heard his officemates complain of the same thing.
People do not like being told what to do. Generally, it's a bad idea. If someone asks for advice or your thoughts on the matter, than by all means, be honest, but otherwise, no, no one cares.
His current job is ending soon, which means he will once again have nothing to do but hang around the house and hover over every little thing I do. God, living here makes me wish I was back at MSU living alone in my room. It was so pleasant. I got to be around whoever, and then when I needed time alone, I went to be alone.
When I came back from my walk, the power was thankfully on, and I was able to work on my various projects in relative peace.
But then when I went downstairs to get some crackers, he felt the need to tell me where I could eat them.
Without power, I had to sit in the rooms with large windows and work by them. My father felt the need to sit in the first room I choose, reading a book, probably a biography. (All old people, it seems, like biographies. Which would be fine if they had better taste in people to be interested in.) Then he would make all sorts of noise that I found very distracting. So I moved to the kitchen, also with a large enough window I could sit and work by.
But of course that meant my father had to come in and make tons of noise there to. I moved back to the first room. He came into the first room, so I'm back in the kitchen. Then he's back in the kitchen, trying to fix something.
This is one of the many things that irritates my about him. He's so rude. You'll clearly be doing something, like talking on the phone, and he always, no matter what, manages to want to distract you, by talking to you.
Finally, I got all the reading I wanted done. I went upstairs. I considered calling Dan. He would probably have a lot to say about us being without power and maybe I could make amends for the insensitive things I said the last time I spoke to him.
Then I looked outside. We had lost power, presumably, because it was raining. But the raining stopped about twenty minutes after the power went out. So I decide to go out.
I always try not to leave a lot of time to talk to my dad. I quickly say that I am going out for a walk, and then he feels the need to tell me where I should walk.
This is another thing that makes me crazy. He is always telling me what to do like I'm four. I'm twenty-two, I'm fine, thanks, go away now. I can't do anything in his line of sight without him telling me how to do it. I wish I could say that I'm the only one who does this, but I've heard his officemates complain of the same thing.
People do not like being told what to do. Generally, it's a bad idea. If someone asks for advice or your thoughts on the matter, than by all means, be honest, but otherwise, no, no one cares.
His current job is ending soon, which means he will once again have nothing to do but hang around the house and hover over every little thing I do. God, living here makes me wish I was back at MSU living alone in my room. It was so pleasant. I got to be around whoever, and then when I needed time alone, I went to be alone.
When I came back from my walk, the power was thankfully on, and I was able to work on my various projects in relative peace.
But then when I went downstairs to get some crackers, he felt the need to tell me where I could eat them.
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