however much i booze
12.21.03 @ 10:55 p.m.
Candace: Me, too on the control thing. So very much.
So it's my birthday. I'm 21 now. All signs point to incredibly happy because today has been very good. Unfortunately in the last hour my father has managed to put me in an absolutely foul mood by acting like a child. I know I should have insisted on putting off the family party until tomorrow, I should have plead a headache or something. But I didn't. And now I'm angry and resentful when I have the two CDs I wanted more than anything else.
What is it about my father that turns almost every entry of late into an angry, frustrated rant? Why can't he act like a goddamn adult? Let me go through why I'm angry at him first and then I'll try to recount my day and put myself back in the blissful place I was. I was fine until I left the house of Uncle Pretentious and Aunt Corporate Bore. That's a little harsh, I do like my aunt. But she's not nearly so pretentious as her husband. Anyway. In the car Dad decided to ride in the back because he felt 'too tired' to drive and Grandma's getting to old to get in and out of the back seat. Something about the back seat of that car reverted him to being a little kid again. First he leans all over me and says "You want my cold?" No. No I don't. He then proceeds to spend the 45 minute car ride harassing his mother by bumping around her seat and pulling on her seat belt. He only stopped just short of throwing a spitball at someone. And I mean that literally. He had the paper in his mouth. Then he starts getting on my case about how I should spend the giftcard I just got from Aunt and Uncle Prententious on him and then starts saying I should be spending the money I got from my California relatives on my parents etc. etc. I had to bring up needing the money to pay my fucking rent, which just got me upset about how my landlord is an ass. Then my parents insist on having my 'birthday party' tonight despite the fact that we just came from a dinner party that ended with cheesecake. Everyone was moaning about how full they were, more reason, I think, to postpone the party until tomorrow. Noooo. We get into the house and I'm thinking "Okay, we've had cake, presents and that's it." Dad goes "I'm having a piece of cake." Oh no you fucking aren't. How fucking rude is it to take the first piece of a cake no one else is eating, especially the person it was made for? Jesus Christ, he just had a big piece of cheesecake and the other party! Selfish, no will power, agh! I shouldn't have such contempt for my own father, but oh, I do.
Let's put that aside. In fact, I think drastic measures need to be taken. I'm going to stop my initial listen of one of my new CDs and I am going to watch "Won't Get Fooled Again" on The Kids Are Alright. I need Daltrey and Townshend to cure all ills, and then I'll come back to my writing. I'm on the opening screen right now, and I already feel it soothing me.
Oof. Well, it's more than an hour since I started writing this, but I must say I do feel much better. Except for the vague ringing I hear, but I'm pretty sure it's something mechanical in the house and not the sounding of my impending hearing loss. I suppose it's not a good thing when you're clamping headphones to your ears and you can feel them (the headphones, not the ears) vibrating with the sound.
I slept late as usual today, which is starting to annoy me. There's nothing for it but to start going to bed sooner, I suppose. I'm just not disiplined enough to make myself do it. It is vacation after all. I listened to much loud music in the morning, selected Who, Cream, and Rolling Stones. Showered, blah blah blah. I also finished watching Two Towers and am prepared to go see RotK. (Not to be confused with RotJ- Return of the Jedi. Acronyms, woo!) I put the finishing touches on the tree, which is to say I put up all the ornaments left in the box except the ugly ones and the really old antique ones, though I simply forgot about those until much later. Eh. No one else is going to notice they're not there. Otherwise I read most of the day until it was time to go to Uncle Prententious' house.
The drive to Oak Grove somehow feels interminable. Possibly the fact that driving through Portland itself means you're almost home and just going into PDX proper feels like an expedition to me on a normal occasion. It went well. My aunt cooked a turkey, though it wasn't ready to come out for at least a half hour after we got there. She made some joke about everyone leaving in disgust and I got laughs by saying "That's it, I'm leaving." Both of us being slightly pompous and overblown, I let my uncle talk me into staying. I'm doing a really terrible job of describing it all. My aunt also took a cheesecake and decorated it very nicely with this spray-on foodcoloring I guess they make now. Quite pretty. They put 21 candles on it for me (which went perfecty around the tree sprayed onto the top) and I blew it out. (Dad insisted on filming both candle sessions, and I suppose it's somewhat redeeming that I only bitched about the damn camcorder on the second one. I am so sick of that fucking thing. I wish I had never encouraged its purchase.) Here's hoping I get my wish. (The Fates can't counteract a birthday cake wish, right? Right?) We also had a very pleasant discussion after dinner about idiom in various languages and my uncle told a story about the origin of the phrase "I'll be there with bells on" that didn't quite make perfect sense, but since Uncle Prententious is a bit of a scholar, I'll believe him. Also, Jehovah's Witnesses were slightly dissed (my uncle in disbelief that Prince does indeed go door to door), but I suppose that's what happens when they try to convert the Reverend Uncle Prententious, Methodist Minister. Actually, I don't know if he's Reverend or not. Last time I went to a church service of his was my grandfather's funeral (his dad) 10 years ago. (My how time flies.)
One of the great things of my day (high comic effect, to me anyway) was the following:
[UP hands a box to my mom.]
Dad: What's in the box?
UP: Um, I don't know. Bev?
Aunt Prententious: A carcass.
UP [to us, brightly]: A carcass!
AP [coming from the kitchen]: Here's another one.
UP: Two carcasses!
[Ellen and Uncle Prententious riff on "Two carcasses means it's a special occasion!" excessively]
[For the record, Dad and Grandma boil them to make broth to pour on the dog's food for the kennel.]
Oh, yeah, and I got Who By Numbers and Who Are You for my birthday from my parents and a $20 Borders gift card from Aunt and Uncle.
Martha on Daltrey's History Channel show:
It's kind of surreal, to see an Englishman in the Ozarks or wherever, talking about moonshine. Also, Andrew was commenting on whether it was hard to tell whether it was Daltrey or not, if he didn't have lady hair. (he was wearing a trucker cap, and his hair was barely sticking out.)
[Title track... well, it's by the Who, off Who By Numbers and it seems appropriate for my 21st even if I don't drink. Because today, I legally can.]
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
