Christmas With the Munsters

Remember that blog post I made a few months ago, when I told you that Shannon compared my family and me to the Munsters and Marilyn? That I was the only "normal" one in the bunch (and that term was being used very lightly)?

Well, it seems my family came through again. I'll spare you all of the agonizing details -- but here's the story in a nutshell:

So we all know that my parents are two of the most dysfunctional people on the face of the planet (or at least, if you didn't know, you know now.) They have been married for 28 years, and I think somewhere in year 2, they started hating each other. I have never met 2 people who needed a divorce more. Anyway, my parents usually come over to my house for Christmas dinner. It's a "tradition" I started about 4 years ago, and it's gone relatively OK.

This year, my mom shows up with food in tow, but not my dad. She proceeds to tell me that they got into an argument that morning (Merry Christmas, everyone!) and that he is supposed to come later. Now, please picture the next couple of hours for me -- my mom continued to tell, and retell the story of the morning argument to me probably about 7 times. I am not exaggerating. She told me over and over. The amazing part in all of this is that I was surprised she expected, after all of these dysfunctional years, that he would somehow be a loving husband to her just because it was Christmas. But he wasn't. He acted like a dick. I should be surprised, why?

Well, long story short -- my dad pulled a no-show for Christmas dinner. Not that I minded. It would have been an evening filled with him dominating the conversation, spewing his particular brand of conservative-republicanism and/or Obama-bashing that I find distasteful, or him drinking a beer and my mom being all over his ass for it. OR both of them or either of them bitching at each other all evening. OR...any combination thereof. Take your pick. It would have been miserable, but we're FAMILY and that's what being a family is all about, right? We're supposed to be together, because one of us could be dead next year, or something. Not to be morbid, but for chrissake!

I don't get a phone call from my dad until the next day. I see his number on my caller ID and I let the machine pick it up, because frankly, I know that this phone call has the potential to last at least a half an hour, and with 99% of it with him doing all the talking = him bitching about how my mother mistreats him. And I wasn't in the mood for that nonsense.

I let the call go to the answering machine and he leaves his message, which I will paraphrase for your reading enjoyment: "It's Dad. Sorry I was not at Christmas, but Your Mother didn't want me to have a Merry Christmas so blah blah and more blah...." I stopped listening after that. Because it was not important to him that he missed Christmas with his family -- his non-fuck-up of a daughter and granddaughter. Oh no. It was only important that he made sure to tell me that it wasn't his fault he wasn't at Christmas dinner -- even though he is a grown man and could have driven himself over -- but that it was my mom's fault. Natch. I haven't called him back, nor do I really want to. I'll have to keep you posted.

The saddest thing of all was that he wasn't even missed. And his presents are still under my tree.

Depression=NO BLOG POSTS

Hey. So I haven't been updating my blog lately, as you may have noticed, namely because I really haven't felt like it. Like there was nothing that warranted the energy it would have taken to update and post comments. Which I attribute to a mild form of depression -- partly due to not having a job, not having any prospects and worrying about finding a job. There are many other reasons for my depression -- reasons that are as old as I am, or reasons that go WAAAAY back, but the job thing was the most recent thing to send me into a tailspin, so let's put like 75% of the blame for no blog updates on that.

Well...the impossible has happened. I found a job. Training for it starts on the 13th, and lasts 2-3 weeks. Then the job goes to the afternoon shift, which is from 3:30-12midnight. Anyone who knows me knows I am NOT a morning person. So starting work at 3:30 is mildly appealing. The only downside is that I won't see my kid, and that kinda bums me out. Because I spent 4 years in law school in night classes not seeing my kid. The way I figure, I've probably only really seen about 2 years worth of her life -- the other 3.75 years I've spent away from her for some reason. Nice parenting. OK, I shouldn't beat myself up too bad about it, because parents everwhere make sacrifices which include working afternoons. So I won't dwell -- just trying to give you a taste of the mindset I'm in over this job-thing. I'm torn.

The job itself doesn't sound TOO bad -- it has something or other to do with researching things (those things are to be determined at a later date...and determined, I'm assuming, by the lawsuit that gets filed) -- so I will be doing research for things for lawsuits that get filed against GM and putting my research in a file for the GM attorneys. It's rather vague (if you haven't picked up on that already) -- but at least it's in the legal profession, and at least it is a paying job. It being so vague is why I am assuming the training period is so long. I mean, 2-3 weeks? I can't wait to see what secrets will be bestowed upon me....

In other news...most of you know that I became a Pure Romance consultant. Which is really very fun and I enjoy it 100% of the time. My first party was hostessed (is that a word? Is now.) by my friend Jody, and due to unforseen circumstances, we couldn't hold the party at her apartment, so instead we moved it to my parent's house. Now, I haven't written much about my family, other than to compare them to the Munsters. I swear, one of these days, I will devote a post to them and only them, and it will be a feast for your eyes. But until that day...here's a little bit of what my mom is like: the day after the Pure Romance party, I am talking on the phone with my mom. I can only talk to her for about 6 minutes at any one time, because it's about at the 6-minute mark, where my mom will say something that will send me from 0 to 60 in under 2 seconds. The day after my party, my mother mentions to me that I should really "tailor" my parties to my audience. Why she thought I would be able to do this, especially when I start doing parties for total strangers, I have no idea. So I ask her what she means. She replies that some of those "things" that I demonstrated (namely the toys) were "REEEALY DISGUSTING" and that I shouldn't be showing them. Um...I don't know about you, but I always thought that one of the big draws to a Pure Romance party was the toys? Call me crazy, but I don't think the promise of massage lotions and body sprays are the biggest appeal of the parties. So while I am explaining to her, that one of the things that girls look forward to are the toys, and when they come to the party, they kind of know what to expect -- because I know if I was invited to a Pure Romance party and didn't know what it was, the person inviting me would TELL ME, right? I can hear my mom himming and hawing on the other end, and it is at that point, where I tell her I have to go. NOW. Before I reach through the phone and smack her one upside the head.

She gets under my skin. Like no one else can. Of course, I have been mulling around the idea of getting her one of the dual-action vibrators for Christmas. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see her face when she opened it. Because she needs one more than anyone I know. For Reals.