So, in my efforts to stop acting like an asshole because my dad is in town, I drove all the way out to forever, picked him up, drove 20 minutes north in rush hour traffic to take him to dinner, drove him SOUTH again and then drove all the way back up to NW Atlanta where I finally sat down around 9:15. Holy. Mother. But I had my shrimp and grits and my stomach is HAPPY.

On the way home from the restaurant, my dad called my mom. I guess to gloat, or whatever. Then he said something about having not seen my apartment yet and asked my mom to talk to me. What am I, five? She says, ‘do what you have to do so your dad can see your apartment.’ She says this in a tone that is not to be argued with. I tried to say no. In fact, I said no several times. Why doesn’t no work on them?

It’s not that my apartment is… well it’s just that… I mean, no one ever comes over. It’s very comfy and now I have to clean for company. I have a bedroom and a guest bathroom that have never been used, let alone furnished or decorated. I don’t have a table. And the entire time I lived in Podunk WA, my parents never cared about my damn apartment. GAH. So I guess on Saturday I have to drive out to get him, and bring him up to this side of the world so he can see my apartment.

I am trying not to roll my eyes, because frankly my parents love the crap out of me and they are proud of me and they want to be close to me. SO. Hence the trying not to be an asshole about it. It’s hard and kind of pitiful when you have to scold yourself.

So today I get to go shopping for a little bit of house stuff. I was thinking of Marshall’s or Tuesday morning. I hate shopping for clothes. LOVE shopping for housewares! And I think I am going to have someone come in and give me a good, thorough clean.  For spring. Yeah, that’s the ticket!

Dinner went fine, by the way. A few awkward pauses. I am kind of a weird person anyway, off in my own world. Several times, he was like, ‘why didn’t you just…..?’ I just shrug and go on my merry way. Don’t like the way I do things? Don’t be with me when I do them. I am me, get used to it.

We talked a lot about my mom. She is not doing too well– not dying or anything, just not living well. Back in 2001, she had the RNY Gastric Bypass. A year or two later, she was in the hospital with complications. And now she is having the same issues she was having in 2003. Her stomach is protesting anything solid. I guess she is down to just over 100 lbs right now, which blows my mind because she used to be pretty heavy. In addition to the weight loss issue, she is not dealing well with Joe’s death at all. My dad says she has been on sleeping pills since his death and she’s having a lot more bad days than good ones. She has an injury from a car accident years back and her job is a bit physical, so that makes working hard.

We also talked a bit about depression. Mine specifically, and then he asked some questions about one of my friends that was diagnosed BiPolar 2. He acts like I never told him about my bouts with depression, but I did. I sat right at that kitchen table and told both of my parents about that. He doesn’t remember. He also doesn’t remember telling me that we had a family member that was institutionalized for Schizophrenia and other mental disorders. He was all shocked that I knew. ‘You told me!’ I said. He just shrugged.

He tried to go in on me, all about calling more often. Excuse me, I talk to you people frequently and you don’t tell me these things, so come on off of beating that dead horse.

In all, I was pretty proud of myself, had a good meal, he ended up paying for dinner (woop!) and I didn’t go straight home from work and get in the bed, so yay!

Tuesday meeting on Thursday today. Reports. Oy.

The other day I found something I thought I had destroyed a long time ago.

Actually. Back up. That is a lie. I went looking for it. I knew all along I still had a copy and where I could find it. I didn’t destroy it, when I found it again, either.

I hardly ever watched Sex& The City because I didn’t have HBO, but then TBS started running it and I would watch it if my remote found it during my constant quest for weird stuff  to watch (documentary whore, I tell you). Recall the episode in which Carrie is dumped via Post It Note: “I’m sorry. I can’t.” I totally, totally have been there. Except it wasn’t a post it. He at least had the courtesy to type and send an email.

All of this past rehash is stirring up old memories. As I take myself on a journey from my past to my present, sometimes I feel a longing to see old things again. I was typing up the previous chapter and thinking about the chapter ahead and remembering beginnings and endings. The letter popped up in my mind. I actually dug for it, found it, and read it.

And then I read it again. I was angry again. I didn’t understand again. And five years later, I still don’t know that I could have done anything to avoid getting that breakup email. The Dear Jane letter.

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I was so hoping for snow this morning. Not because I really like snow, but because I could stay home and snuggle under the covers and flip through daytime TV and be nice and warm in my comfies. I have so much other writing I could be doing. I have books on my Kindle I could be reading. I am annoyed that I will get up, shower, dress, drive down the street to work and sit there and wait for it to start snowing, and then drive home.

People always laugh when I tell them how close I live to work. I don’t like a commute! It’s not as easy as people think it is, though. It’s not like I roll out of bed and get in the car. I still have to shower, dress, and drive to work, just like anyone else. I just don’t have to drive far.  I’m still late 4 out of 5 mornings.

Of course, there is a chance that it won’t snow at all. In fact, I am banking on nothing of the sort. According to the morning news, it will be mostly rain by the time it hits North Fulton County. I’m in Cobb, just above Fulton. I am guessing it will just be rain. BoooHiss. If we’re going to get bad weather, it should be bad weather for all, so we can all stay home! The boss is out today, there is no Tuesday meeting today, several members of the Exec staff (whom I work for) are traveling today. It would be a perfect day to stay home. With a big cup of coffee and something sweet from StarBucks.

I won’t, though. Because I always feel guilty about taking days off, even when I’m sick. I took last Monday off and spent half the day worried my boss was mad. So, I’ll get up and go to work and sit there and watch the window for the first hint of flakes. Just my luck, they won’t come.

Again I say, BoooHisssss.  Watching Weather.com like a hawk,

Edit: Yep, guess who is back home?  Totally doing the ‘at home in the middle of the day, dance’!

At the moment, my weekend rundown is rather anti-climactic. And that’s a good thing.

I spent most of Friday with my stomach in knots, not really sure what was going on, what was expected of me and how much of it I could get out of. My dad called me late morning and basically just said that he wanted to see me before he left town and wanted to see if I was coming to Uncle T’s 80th birthday. Much of the family from Colorado and Illinois and Indiana were coming to town. I said I would go.

I wrote on Saturday about my sucktastic Friday. Thankfully, that day went much better, because two crappy days in a row makes for a cranky Curvy. I took my time getting ready and instead of meeting the family at 4:00 at the restaurant where the dinner/ party was, I drove to Aunt and Uncle’s where my dad was staying.  He wasn’t there, as he had run to the store quickly, so I had a chance to talk with my Aunt, 78, and my Uncle, 80.

Their house is always 104 degrees. This makes me laugh, for no apparent reason.

Another thing is that my Aunt is so very frank and direct. She’s a funny little lady. “Well [insert my name]. I haven’t seen you for awhile? You married yet?” View the rest of this entry…

Post 2! Thanks for reading and commenting. Again, if you’d like to comment but you’d rather not do so in public, please feel free to email me at curvyjones[at]diaryofcurvyjones or mocahgirl[at]gmail.

At the top of this post on the right hand side you’ll see  a directory of sorts. All posts in this series will be tied together. You can view other posts in this series by clicking on the link in the directory.

This is a long entry, I apologize. I was going to cut it but decided to let it be. It’ll be here if you get tired of reading and want to come back later! ;)

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