Blog DisclaimerToday… has not been a fun day. Mom’s Mom, our Grandma - henceforth referred to as Sheba or The Bitch - came up from Florida for a visit and dinner today.
Lets just say she isn’t a Grandma you’d want to cuddle with. Sheba is a bitchy, arrogant, spiteful, cruel, old woman with an expensive taste and not a single idea of what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck. She is just a nightmare to deal with, let me tell you. *shakes his head* Even mom dreads dealing with her. She’s like one of those older, female villians you classically see on a Soap Opera - always scheming, back-stabbing, etc. If this wasn’t real life, I’d think she was a poorly created villianess some idiot made for a shitty fan-fic or soap. No such luck. She’s real.
And she was coming over to our house.
Since Sheba is one of those people who don’t live on this rock I like to call “Earth” - we have to clean our house til it’s perfect. I’m not fucking kidding. To give you a clue as to how she thinks a house should look…. Her homes have always looked like a ritzy hotel, but they have an almost sterile, antiseptic feel to them. They don’t feel lived in. There’s not a stain, not a single thing out of place. It’s fucking weird. In the past, she’s even gone as far as to lecture Sally and I on how to “properly” bathe and mom how the clean her own house. So… from the time Mom left for work at 7am to after she got home at 3pm - constantly cleaning.
To top off our rapidly approaching nightmare like a fucking cherry, at around 4pm our parakeet - Fancy - died. Fucking damnit. I did not need that.
And not long after that - ding, fucking dong - the bitch is here. The wicked bitch, the wicked bitch. Ding - dong: The fucking Bitch is here!
I suppose we really lucked out. The visit went better than we thought it would. For most of the visit she was fixated on Echo and Kaze (”Oh, you’re cwute wittle pussy-cats! Yes, you are!” -*barf!*), both of whom are still too young to pick up on our nerves. Luna sure did, though. She didn’t do her usual sudden barking or growling, but she was uptight the whole visit. Good dog.
For a while, the visit looked like it was actually going to end without a single snide remark, insinuation, or any of her usual nastiness. Dinner went by, and mom laid out a selection of bananas for desert. And that’s when it happened.
“So, Jasson - you’re almost 25 years old. What are you going to do with your life?”
Oh fuck, I’m in for it now.
I calmly try to explain to her that I’m interested in either Network Securities or in Web Design and Development; and that I was currently playing around with learning some programming languages in my free time. Wrong fucking thing to say. Totally wrong thing I could have said to the bitch. She has me in her crosshairs, target locked.
Her: “So is there any demand for that?”
Me: “Well, according to the Government Websites I’ve been on those jobs are increasing in demand. Starting salary for a decent web developer start at about $40,000 a year.” Oh fuck.
Her: “Really? I have a friend down in Florida who does [Hell if I remember] and he’s been out of a job for a year.”
Fuck! Then Mom chirps up and says mildly that the news has been reporting increases in Computer Related Fields and Technology Stocks are once more becoming a hot item. Mom, God Bless You!
Her: “Oh really?” Not a question. She turns back to me, “So what are you doing to reach this?”
Fuckity fuck. “Well, nothing at the moment. There’s no colleges or any higher education in this town. Everything is either in Grand Rapids or Lansing-”
“So why don’t you get a job, find an apartment, and go to school?”
“How would I get an there? No money.”
“Then find yourself a roommate. There’s always someone looking for a roommate.”
Swallow. Just swallow, Jasson. “I dunno. I don’t think a roommate would last very long with me.”
“Why not?”
Because I’m an idiot who blows up like Mount Saint Helens when someone fucks with my stuff? I force a shrug, “I’m not a people person.”
By this point, I’m boiling. All I remember is that what she was saying was completely pissing me off and her expression + body language was even worse. And I’m required to be civil. In her eyes, I’m a retarded looser whose only skill is sponging off his mom and needs drastic intervention to get his life in her idea of order. My vision blurs and my ears are roaring. So I don’t remember what she said after that, all I remember is that condescending smile of her’s. The bitch was enjoying this. The conversation probably doesn’t seem like Through this all, Mom kept silent. She’s the smart one. One of these days Sally and I will learn that trying to explain this to her is like being a fly caught in a spider’s web. The more you struggle, the worse she has you.
Fortunately or unfortunately, not long after that she moved on to Sally. Poor Sal didn’t stand any better a chance than I did. And she’s the one who managed to stand up to her in the past. I’ll let her blog when she feels like it to tell you her side of it. Then she moved on to mom. Mom, being the insanely wise lady she is, lies through her teeth and gets it over with almost painlessly. (Sheba insisted that we stay in this house since it’s been on the market for almost 2 years and get jobs at Wal-Mart when it moves in around September. -_-;;;;;;;) Maybe one day, I’ll as smart as she is. Then it’s picture time - ug. So Sally and I each grab a kitten, Mom grabs Luna, and we all go outside to smile inanely for the camera.
And then she’s leaving, but not without a final jab at Sally and I for not having cars and at Sally for not knowing how to drive period.
And now… here I am. 1:30am and still too uptight to sleep. Don’t get me wrong - I’m fucking exhausted. I’m drinking coffee because hot chocolate tastes like powdered shit in my mouth and the Iced Tea just reminds me of dinner. My mind just keeps roiling. I want to scream, I want to run. I want to fucking rip my mouth off and clean it until I don’t remember having to kiss her. I feel crawly. We’re going to run out of TUMS at the rate I’m popping them. Wouldn’t be surprised if I just about get an ulcer each time she visits. How the fuck can Mom sleep…
Hello Darkness, My old Friend, I’ve come to talk to you again…
