Wednesday, June 04, 2008

why are families such gong shows?

seriously. it's always a complete and utter CF whenever my family tries to do something...ANYTHING. it's always last minute, there's no communication, mis-communication, crossed-wires, hurt feelings, yelling, laughing, exasperation, elevated blood pressure, the whole fries supreme. there is never a way of doing things THE EASY WAY. the sane, organized, premeditated way. which probably accounts for my complete and utter conviction that order, tidiness, and a solid work ethic are the combined panacea for all of life's troubles.

my grandparents are having their diamond anniversary on tuesday. no one knows what's going on...my mom is clueless, the grandkids don't know what we're going to get them, what the program is, how the night is going to run...it's enough to make me break out in hives. THIS is why, as nice as a wedding/marriage performance might sound, there's always a visceral part of me that stomps on the brakes at the mere thought of actually putting together an event. i hate it. i hate the stress, i hate trying to talk to my family and make sure everyone's on the same page, i hate how you can't have a serious conversation without one person piping up and turning it into a joke (or, the conversation getting *too* serious and ending in tears and recrimination and the exhuming of childhood traumas and slights long since buried and left to grow and seethe like bacteria culture in a petri dish). i hate being trotted out like a show pony and having people make a fuss over me or anything related to me. gah! i love them and am inordinately frustrated by them at the same time.

i guess like most of the world with the luxury to have psychological baggage, i have unresolved parent issues. due in no small part to growing up in some kind of canadian cottage-country production of "the joy luck club." my mom is kind of like a big kid sometimes (more of a teenager, really) and that can be kind of frustrating. sometimes we don't really understand each other. it might be the elements of my dad in me. in her defense, if **i** was more aware in the moment of my paternal genetic material manifesting itself, it'd be trying for me too. my dad is a right kook.

i'm from a family of kooks. most of the time it's amazing because it's definitely not the boring w.p. experience. but sometimes, there's nothing i long for more than the staid, impersonal, suppressed-emotions, and qualude stiltedness of a waspy family gathering.

tonight's dinner was healthy/cleaning out the fridge style. beans, potatoes, tomatoes, eggs, tuna, avocado, balsamic, olive oil, the oil the tuna was packed in, sea salt, ground pepper.

i'm having lunch at wendy's tomorrow with G and M from work. nothing takes away the cacophony of family concerns like the soothing, insulating, fat-buffer of a baconator. or two.

fin.

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