Seriously. Seriously??

So today I was informed that my brother is of the opinion that I feel like his wedding is something I’m not excited about, and I’m more concerned with my own life that I’m not excited for him.  That I feel the wedding is something to be wedged into an available weekend in my life.  Um, I’m sorry, but WTF?  This fucking wedding has consumed all waking hours of my non-work life for the last few months I feel like.  It’s not even MY wedding.  My friends are so tired of hearing me talk about it I’m sure.

I have done the save the date cards.  I have bought eight dresses to wear as a bridesmaid only to return them ALL.  I have another five that arrived today that I need to try on.  I spent a few weeks working on the gift with my mother’s help for the last bridal shower.  I have an engagement party this weekend–outside, in the sleet no less–followed by a bridal party excursion to Kings Dominion so we can ‘get to know one another’.  Next weekend is the bachelorette weekend, which I am SO over as something I wouldn’t have done when I was 21, much less 38.  The weekend was chosen because it is the same weekend as another shower.  Oh, and while we’re at it, the other bridesmaids have decided to throw a surprise shower for Carrie that weekend.  A naughty lingerie shower.  Which I am enough of an old fart to admit that I don’t enjoy them.  Plus, ew.  This is my baby brother we’re talking about.  I’m pretty sure my future SIL isn’t wearing a chastity belt (or if she does, that’s kinky stuff between her and my brother), still there is an ick factor.  That doesn’t count the six hours I spent yesterday coming up with the monogram design for the hotel gift bags to show mom today, and once I get paper tomorrow I have to make 60 of them.  Oh, and let’s throw in prepping for the rehearsal dinner and the photo station, the wedding itself, the brunch afterwards, and oh yeah I STILL HAVE TO FIND A FREAKING DRESS.  And playing the sister-therapist role as my father is his usual prick-of-a-self, along with his wife, and insults and offends Drew by not coming to a single blasted event.  So he vents to me.  And I can’t say “what’d you expect, that is what he has done since before we were born”, instead I have to be sister-therapist. Then you throw in Thanksgiving and the usual family drama that makes me want to move somewhere around Boulder every year this time. . . .

But I digress, for after all I evidently am only thinking about myself.  And to a point that is true–I’m thinking about myself to the point that I am working my ass off so that I can PAY for all this stuff, for if I don’t work I don’t get paid, and god knows the showers alone are bankrupting me.  I am thinking about myself to the point that I am trying to find a freaking black dress that conforms to the “tea length, must have some sort of sleeves, no additional ornamentation, no sparkles” rules that I was given (side rant: there’s something to be said for the hated bridesmaid dress.  They pick it out, you buy it, you probably hate it, you never wear it again.  End of story.)  I am thinking of myself in that this wedding is three days that I have to take off work, and therefore not get paid, right at Christmas.  I am thinking of myself in that I have a house that needs to be cleaned with a snow shovel at this point to clear a path through each room because I am not home enough to clean.

Yeah, I feel really fucking selfish, you asshole.

And maybe just a bit bitter.

Advertisements

I am a bad granddaughter

I still have three of my four grandparents living, all into their 80s.  And one of them, my maternal grandmother, is the most negative person you’ve ever met.  She hates everything.  She doesn’t like anything.  But the entire world has to stop so that she can get what she wants when she wants.   It’s a huge catch 22 and it’s irritating as all hell.

And tomorrow I’m on duty.

She likes bottled water.  Claims the tap water (which was rated very high and tastes just fine) makes her sick.  Fine, that’s her preference.  But she complains about the fact that she has no water for SIX WEEKS and then gets upset that I haven’t offered to get it for her.  But the process of getting water is more than that.  It means she expects to be treated to lunch, must be taken shopping, then taken to Costco where I can lift the bottles into the cart and then take them upstairs to her apartment.

I know it’s little and trivial, but it is something I’m not looking forward to doing tomorrow.  Mainly because I cannot handle a day of snide talking and hateful attitudes.  I have worked very hard to cut out that kind of negativity among my friends and the people I hang out with, only it’s not possible to do that with family.  I wish it were sometimes, but it makes me a horrible granddaughter.

Wish me luck in the AM!

Generation Gap

I had half a post put together for tonight with Olympic moments, but didn’t get to finish it.  So I guess that will have to wait until after the closing ceremonies.  The reason it didn’t get finished is tonight, after choir, I had an impromptu meeting that took an hour and then I had to drive to Midlothian and work on my parents virus-infected computer for two hours.  I am now exhausted.

While I am thrilled that my mother/step-father and grandmother have email and love to use it, I think that someone needs to invent the fisher-price equivalent of computers for seniors.  Every thing that pops up, they click on.  Every thing they see, they install.  Which means I have to spend hours trying to clean up the system.  Tonight I didn’t even finish.  After over two hours I said sayonara and took off to come home, because I am beat!

Night all!

The Curse of Family Blessings

Longevity runs in my family.  It is something that I know I should be thankful for, although I didn’t see it that way all the time when I was a kid.  I grew up with all four of my grandparents living and within an hour’s drive of my childhood home.  I even had three great-grandparents on my father’s side, with the great-grandmothers passing away when I was 13 (she was 100 1/2) and 20 (she was 88).  After my parents divorced, we spent a lot of time with my mother’s parents who lived on the opposite side of town.  I saw my father’s parents, who live in Charlottesville, several times a year as well.  It was the status quo.  I was in college before I truly recognized that some people are not as fortunate–a friend of mine had spent the summer with his grandmother in California and had a miserable time because it was the first time he’d seen her in ten years.  I thought that was odd.  Didn’t everyone have a close family that got on each other’s nerves like we did?  And not just grandparents–there was a whole slew of great-aunts and great-uncles as well that were surrogate grandparents as well. Continue reading

Thoughts on Father’s Day

Sunday was Father’s Day.

In the past, my family has not made a big deal out of Father’s Day or Mother’s Day. Both of my parents have birthdays within a week of their respective holidays so we always celebrated the birthdays and went about our usual Sunday business on the parental holiday. We gave cards, but that was about all. It was never a big deal.

This year, my father mentioned that he would be going to Charlottesville to see his parents. I thought it might be nice if I joined them as well, and we could spend a few hours visiting together.

I went to church as usual that morning, then was a leader in kids church, getting out around 1 o’clock. I then hit the road. And on the way up there I was trying to remember the last time I saw my father on Father’s Day proper. As a kid I would spend summers with him, but would usually get there a day or two after Father’s Day. As an adult I usually tried to see him between his birthday and the holiday, killing two birds with one stone so to speak. And then I remembered the last time I saw my father on Father’s Day. Continue reading

The Youngest Of Us Gets Hitched

Tonight I attended a wedding. There was a time about ten or so years ago when they were common. My friend C and I used to go to them together–he was my regular wedding date. Every two or three weeksP1020848 there was another, and we just had a blast. It’s amazing what can happen when there is no obligation to your date . . . you relax, have fun, and enjoy yourself.

In the last several years, though, the weddings have changed. They’re still fun, though I usually attend alone. Much easier. But they’re bigger hooplahs now. Not quite as easy and breezy but still very fun, and usually more personal. Best friends, family, etc.

Tonight was the wedding of my youngest cousin. She has been with the guy since she was about 15, and is almost 23. She looked absolutely beautiful, but it cracked me up because they were already acting like a couple that had been married for years. In essence, of course, they have–she’s been with him longer than I’ve lived in any singular location.

It’s a weird thing with my cousin. I love her dearly, but when she was about 10 their family moved about two hours away. Her family didn’t visit often, so I really don’t know her like I did when she was a kid and lived close by. Therefore the wedding reception was spent with the immediate family–parents, brother/girlfriend, other aunt/uncle, and the bride’s father/stepmother. They now live in Texas, so I haven’t seen him since my grandfather’s funeral three years ago.

I think that was the best part. I’m thrilled for my cousin, pleased for her mother/stepfather who were happy, and so on, but it was spending a few seconds with my uncle that made it memorable. Continue reading

Utterly Exhausted

I know it is not a fair assessment to make, but sometimes my family, my life, utterly exhausts me.

I feel guilty for even saying that, seeing as how I am currently unemployed and I do not have major obligations. Yet I am sitting here, wiped out, and it’s due to my insane life.

I’m rambling, I know, but there you go. I don’t respond to mental ping-pong very well. I thought when I kicked the last guy out of the house that it wouldn’t be as bad. Instead I have become an unwilling piece of sports equipment among the females on the maternal side.

Just last week I had to drop everything for (yet another) venting session. I understand venting, I’m a big fan of it. This blog wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for venting. Yet the big crisis turned out to be nothing more than a disagreement over who was going to be taking a pair of pants to the hospital.

Sweatpants! Big crisis!!!

More like monster migraine.