::Summarizing Life - and getting on with it
11:48 a.m. - 2004-10-27
So the last few days have been interesting, to say the least. I've gone from waking myself crying to extreme anger and hurt to exhaustion to seeing one of the most interesting rock and roll shows I'll probably get chance to see.
The waking myself crying and the extreme anger stem from - guess who, oh loyal readers? Why, could it be my bitchy sister? Bingo! Yes, life with ol' sis has been a treat lately. As I think many of you know, SW and I thought it would be nice to have Thanksgiving dinner at our house this year. Our place is nice. My sister however, had it set in her head that she was having it at her house, and when we said we'd like to host in instead, she went completely and utterly ballistic. I don't know why - I don't understand, and I'll spare you most of the drudgery of details. The amazing thing is how completely this infuriated her, though, and how she's been trying to upset everyone about it since. My mother said that she'd like to come over to SW's and my place for a change. My sister bought a new house a year ago and since has refinanced and poured thousands into getting it landscaped and fixed up, and she loves to rub it into everyone's face each and every chance she gets. We had both Thanksgiving and Christmas at her house last year, as well as a family bbq thing this past September, where she seized every opportunity to tell us how much this cost and that cost, etc. I personally am glad that she was able to buy a house at 24 years old. That's awesome and I would love to be able to afford one myself someday. But I honestly couldn't give a flying fuck if the patio table and chairs were on sale when she bought them at $1500 down from $3000. Eat me. I thought it would be nice to do something different for a chance. I thought she would appreciate the chance to take a break from hosting. I was really fucking wrong. She's still really pissed off about it. If I even mention it she gets inflamed and starts coming up with all sorts of idiotic reasons why it would be better to have it at her house, like I don't have enough chairs (where she came up with that I don't even know), I don't have enough room (my house is the same size as hers) and it's too far for her to drive (but it isn't too far for me to drive from my house to hers). And to top it all off, since she's vegetarian, she refuses to buy or touch a turkey, so if everyone else would live to have one, I have to cook it and bring it with me. Oh, and also go two hours out of my way to pick up my Mom so she can get there, too. (That part I don't mind as much, because I would like to see her). But anyhow. All of that has been going on for a while. I actually hadn't spoken to my sister for nearly two weeks. On Monday night I woke up at 5am sobbing, because I had this dream (very bizarre, that made little sense) that my sister was dying. I was really upset. I don't think that I've ever awoken myself crying. It was a scary thing. So that day I decided to telephone her and say that I was sorry that we had been fighting and that I'd like to put it all behind us. And I proceeded to tell her about my dream and I started to cry. Well, her reaction was not one of compassion or understanding. All she had to say was that everything would be fine if I would just stop being so mean, and that I had stolen Thanksgiving from her (WTF??) and then launched into a campaign of more reasons that it makes more sense to have it at her house, including the convenience of my mom's husband's son and his wife who came to Thanksgiving dinner last year and were total assholes, and she went on about how they are family and how that is so important.... yadda yadda. I think I am finally at the final straw with her. I wrote this email to her but haven't sent it yet --here-- I think that if I do, I'll edit it for profanity and the mean shit at the end about she can get fucked forever, but the rest I really do mean. Anyway, it's depressing. It blows. I'm sick of it. And I need to just be done with it and forget about it. I wish that she would grow up and get over herself, but that's unrealistic to hope for. The best I can do is just not talk to her and get the hell on with my own life. On a totally different note, I saw Bill Haley's Original comets last night. They really rocked, despite the fact that they are all between 75 and 84 years old. It blew my mind.
