Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Things I don’t understand about my mother’s side of the family:

1. Why it’s so difficult to coordinate a dinner. Pick a damn restaurant and stick to it. It shouldn’t take 3 days to decide to go to the same sushi restaurant we went to last time. BTW, the sushi is way overpriced and not as fresh as it should be.

2. Why no one can make a decision without consulting the big book of insults. You know what, whatever you decide is going to tick someone off somehow. Get over it. ”I feel like I’m taking crazy pills.”

3. Why everyone has to do everything in a damn cluster. If you want to go shopping, go shopping. Don’t wait for me to go. When I said I wanted to visit a museum, the entire clan tagged along, bored out of their minds. How the hell am I supposed to enjoy the museum when I’ve got a band of Chinese groupies following me bored to tears.
There is something called the hospitality line. It’s like the personal space line. One should not expect the host to plan every single minute nor should the guest hang onto the host like a barnacle. I’m just picking up dry cleaning. I’m pretty sure you can do the same thing where you are from. Dry cleaning stores are pretty much the same everywhere you go.

4. Why when you go off and do your own thing, you’re a rebel and insulting someone. When my in-laws come over, we eat a few meals together, do an outing together and the rest of the visit consists of them doing their thing and us doing ours. To my knowledge, my in-laws love it that way. Lrudlrick and I love it that way. We both get to do what we need to and we still get to spend time together. Hospitality goes both ways, folks.

5. Why everything is an act of insult. No wonder my mother walks on eggshells for everything. Good grief. If I hear, “I just don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I’m easygoing.” one more time, I’m going to gag myself with my own fist. I’m sure that line will garner a host of strange google searches. If you arrived here because of such a search, sorry, hit the back button. Not everyone is going to like what you have to say. That’s what makes life interesting. If we all walked around with the same opinion, we’d be in a Huxley novel.