When I was little I was Mommy’s Girl and my sister Daddy’s Girl. In memories of my youth in SoCal I don’t remember my father being home much. I remembered him on trips and social events like people coming over for dinner but he worked a lot. When he moved us to El Paso it was hell for my mother and my sister where they were sick as dogs for months. When they got better, I was sick and missed two weeks of school. Then came the divorce and I slowly made an effort in taking more notice of him. Through the years it’s sucked and I thought earlier this year I got through all that crap of resenting him and my stepmother, but no. My father has not spent one fucking minute of his time with us on this vacation other than to sit in the rented house or eat somewhere. Granted he was sick so his nose wasn’t up for snorkeling Tuesday but he said he would go snorkelling yesterday. I said I wasn’t going to snorkel or probably swim but definitely coming with. Sure enough no one is listening to a goddamn word I say this week.
Shopping for food at the store and picking out pasta sauce: “No Marge, I don’t eat mushrooms only the Traditional Prego.”
At the dinner table looking at the bowl of pasta sauce: “….Are there mushrooms in here?”
“Yes, I mixed the two together.”
WTF?? Her fucking son doesn’t even eat (oh he eats the leftovers 45 minutes later) and she mixes his damn mushroom sauce with the traditional? I love how my only fucking family doesn’t know or remember a damn thing about me. I haven’t forgotten the shit they eat and don’t eat, they bloody well can’t remember I have never eaten pie in my whole life. Anyway, so my dad seems to think I’m not coming to the beach just ‘cuz I’m not snorkeling. I said I’d sunbathe didn’t I? He and Chris run off to play golf as if they can’t do that in Cali and Phoenix. “Oh we’ll be back to go snorkeling at 4:30 after the high tide comes in.” Did he not hear Kristin say the water was murky around that time the day before? And of course they’re gone from 12 to 5 with the car. And yet we’re supposed to be back home tomorrow by noon because “we can’t have the car to ourselves all day”. What the hell were you doing with it yesterday? Chris, whiney pansy ass pedophile that he is, can’t manage to fucking spend the day at the beach because “he doesn’t like snorkeling”. What the hell are you here in Hawaii for jackass?! Oh yes, my sister!
I want to kill them all.
Oh yea, back on topic of oh father of mine. The paragraph above is a lovely example of why I realize I’ll never get past this crap with my dad and his wife. I believe it was in a conversation with Karen last week as we were discussing the trip and she said something along the lines of “at least you can count on your dad putting you first” (might’ve been Jennifer actually, someone ^^;;; ) and I busted up laughing. Since he introduced her, he has never put us before Marge. Never. Ever. Eeeeeevvvveeeeeerrrr. It’s a rarity for him to even hang with us without her there. I’ve gotten a hell of a lot of quality alone time with her over the years but him? Not even a quarter of the time I’ve had with just her has been with just him. A good portion of the time is because she didn’t want to go, e.g. our Hike of Death.
He even managed to screw up our time away. We dropped him and Chris off a damn Golf tournament near Waikiki, drive to Hanauma Bay because I promised Jeremy a t-shirt from there ‘cuz he’s recording stuff for me, and then we were to drive to some shopping centers in Waikiki, one which has some stupid walk-through aquarium. We finally find a mall, looked confused at the map, eat ‘cuz we’re starving. Oh yes, and on the way dad calls and turns out he just wants to see how we’re doing. We finish eating and I’m ready to do some serious shopping for myself (and get some See’s damn it all) and Dad calls to say they’re ready to be picked up. I haven’t bought a damn thing! And am never going to apparently. Since we already ate we have to feed the two of them so we find the stupid area where the store with the walk-through aquarium is. Whoop-dee-doo. Kristin and I run off while Marge goes with the boys to eat ‘cuz I saw a cute clothing store and Kristin saw a bikini store. We walk five blocks, they’re not there, go over one, three blocks back, there’s my store, no clue where the bikini store actually was. Sure enough we’ve been in the store for 10 minutes and they call to say to come back. And yet they’re not actually done eating. We’re summoned to entertain Marge Kristin supposed. She was shopping in a jewelry store when we got there.
Hanauma Bay looked like a worthwhile place to snorkel (though expensive and crowded) and of course Chris didn’t wanna go. I even tried dropping a few hints of “let’s all go together” because we sure weren’t inviting him separately (now or before). He sulked all day today like a big baby. All week actually. What was it, Sunday I think: Dad was in bed sick, Marge and Chris went walking somewhere and invited Kristin but she said she was waiting for me to finish figuring out my camera. So when I was done it was just the two of us and we walked a bit north on the beach. Took the phone like Dad wanted and at one point when my sis was off on the trail drinking her beer, Marge called, said something or other, blah blah. And then “hold on”, hands it over to Chris and “where are you? should I come down and meet you?” I was laughing when Kristin told me that. Hey, he’s the one who left first but then we wouldn’t have invited him anyway. Tuesday night Dad almost said to Kristin “Chris is feeling left out”. Why, because he’s in his room not answering your knocks? It’s not our fucking job to babysit him. I think that’s what they’re expecting, that he and Kristin are so close they should be doing all sorts of things together or we should all cater to whatever the fuck he wants to do which is NOTHING. Look, if you’re in Hawaii I think you should do things which you can’t do at home. I could sunbathe at home but not really til summer plus the ocean is right here and it’s warmer than California’s waves will ever be. Golf can be played at home especially since Chris said the courses in Phoenix are way better.
What’s left? Oh yes, whale watching can be done on the mainland people! I told her, I fucking told that woman, “I don’t want to go whale watching. There are better things to do.”
Her, “Oh but it’s on a catamaran and there’s dolphins and turtles. You can even swim with the dolphins!”
Me “Hell yea, I’d do that!”
Then it was a matter of whether my sister would do it and then therefore Chris. Saturday evening at dinner I ask about Monday the day of dolphins (and whales but who cares?) and “Oh we’re not swimming with dolphins”.
“Huh?”
“Yes, I told you it cost too much, it’s just the whale-watching.”
“You didn’t tell me that!”
“Yes I did, on the phone and sent you an email.”
“No you didn’t. You——–” I am never doing anything with them ever again in my entire fucking life. London, Europe, Japan, I don’t care I’m not going! If she had told me on the phone or sent me an email that we weren’t seeing dolphins much less swimming with them I would’ve said no. In fact, I did tell her I . didn’t . want . to . see . whales. We even go to the damn thing all three of us (‘cuz of course Chris goes whatever way Kristin does) that we weren’t happy about going “but she already paid for it online”. No she didn’t. God damn woman can’t understand the difference between to typing in your credit card number to prove you have a credit card and won’t be charged until you get there and paying over the internet. What she printed out sure as hell wasn’t a receipt.
I still haven’t gone out anywhere interesting just me and my sis. Haven’t even had a damn Mai Tai, just some crappy strawberry margarita. I need a Karen tequila sunrise.
I know it’s the classic…. young adult person thing (not a teenager but college age still qualifies with this issue apparently) that parents “just don’t understand” but god damn I understand my parents. Don’t like them, don’t like their choices and opinions sometimes but I do know what they want, what they like, what they bloody eat, and some of why they are the way they are. “Tyson, you don’t have any tattoos do you?” If I really cared I’d get one to annoy them but it wouldn’t be worth it because they wouldn’t be annoyed enough, no more like they would say “Hmm” but then talk about it between themselves. Must make it back to the mainland and have them pay me what they owe first and foremost.
*sigh* This whole holding my anger and resentment and frustration and hurt and who knows what else stuff in doesn’t work which is why I’m actually posting it ‘cuz I can’t whine to Scott and Karen at the moment ^.~ My Dad noticed I was angry last night and all I mentioned was he didn’t go snorkeling with us, “I thought you didn’t want to go snorkeling, I didn’t think we’d get back that late. I’m sorry.” And it’s like yea Dad that’s part of it but I shouldn’t have to show I’m pissed off for you to realize I’d like to do something with you. That’s the way it’s always been with him though. Kristin too because she’s so self-absorbed she doesn’t realize when she does something wrong like that time she didn’t show up for Batman Begins. But Dad is more like so Marge absorbed… and self-absorbed too I guess to not realize his kids are bored out of there minds and need to get out of the house and DO things. I read three books this week. Watched quite a bit of tv on Wednesday. And there’s only one car which I can’t bloody drive because only 4 people can be on the list! ARGH! I’d rather chance Hawaiian drivers than a week like this again!
Screw it, I’m going to bed so I can get up at fucking 6am to go do something without Marge and Chris otherwise they’d feel left out. Grrrrrrrr.
, and my sister has had a lot more sex than I thought, even a threesome with two other girls. And I learned those two family tidbits right before coming here, thanks for that, Kristin.
!) and the quote works as another quote so when people ask me I just say “Make my day, punk” because explaining why they need to run to the bookstore if they don’t know takes too much time and effort for only .5% success rate.