I'm going to gripe a little.
I went home. I left home. I was there from the 21st until the 27th...and I just couldn't take any more. I don't know why my parents were so strange this time. I couldn't go anywhere or do anything without telling them a million different things about what I was doing. I'm serious. I couldn't go from the couch to the kitchen without being bombarded by the parental questions: "where are you going?" "When will you be back?" "Why are you going?" "Who will be there?" etc....
And I find it interesting that they hardly ever ask the cool parental questions like "do you need money?" (Don't get me wrong. I love my parents, but I'm 24 years old and haven't lived at home for 6 years. I'm pretty well used to doing as I please without explaining myself.)
It was okay for the first couple of days. Then I started going stir crazy. Not to mention I was put out of my room by everyone else but me...I've always had to give up my room for the holidays. It makes me feel unwelcome, like a hermit...or skanky homeless man. I mean what kind of message does that send to your son if every time he's home for Christmas you always give his room to someone else? Just because he's your son, does that give you license to put him in a room over the garage with no heat? Normally this room is just as comfortable as any other room. The only reason the other people get to be in the house and in my room is because of the bathroom being closer. I'm sorry that old people have to go to the bathroom more often...but it is no big deal to walk the 50 feet from the room over the garage to the bathroom. Why then, you ask is it a big deal for me to complain about it? I'll tell you why. Every year for the past six years I've been put out and inconvienenced. It'd be nice if every now and then I got to sleep in my own room during the holidays. It'd make me feel more at home and more welcome at home. The result of this is that I just don't feel at home there anymore. In the room over the garage I get no privacy, no respect...6am people come up there to use the computer. They don't knock, and they certainly don't care that I'm still asleep.
When my aunt and uncle come to visit, my mother becomes a different person. It's like there are two aunt Helens. Her mannerisms change, her tone of voice changes...it's just weird. They play cards at the kitchen table, and my mom actually goes shopping...she'll also go out to eat like 4 nights in a row when normally if that is proposed she thinks it is a ludicrous idea. See, it would never happen...ever. Except when aunt Helen is here. Now, I guess I should explain that aunt Helen is a nice woman, very kind and loving...but I hate it when my mother becomes her. "Just be who you are, that's what's really cool"
The other thing about being home is that everyone I run into or interact with asks me what I'm doing...and then I have to explain what I do. "RA? What's that?"--and boy, that becomes a conversation. My typical response is "I'm a glorified babysitter," which I know is a lie...but it gets the conversation over quickly enough. It's so painful to explain my life's journey since high school to people that weren't a part of it to begin with. I don't know why I even bother. I think I'm just going to start telling lies. "Well, after high school I went up to Washington state and did some logging for a while...but that didn't pan out so I became a hand on an off-shore oil rig."---just crazy shit like that.
The only cool thing I really did while I was home was build this huge ass fire. This first picture is of the wood piled up. It was really damp outside and I didn't have anything to start it with...I was pretty sure it was never going to happen....but then...twenty foot flames...and I was dancing around like a crazy man...hell yes. The other cool thing that happened while I was home was that I got this guitar in a pawn shop. I spent the majority of a day cleaning it up and changing the strings. You wouldn't believe the filth that came off of that thing. The guitar itself was a little banged up, but I saw potential....and a good deal. I also found an even better deal on a Marshall Amp while I was there. So I got both of them. This gave me a lot to do and kept me entertained for countless hours of being pissed off at the world. I learned some AC/DC riffs, and even one entire song. "Rock-n-Roll Ain't Noise Pollution"---I was extremely excited. I'm not much of an electric guitar player but I'm working on it.
So there's kind of an update of what's going on with me. I'm back in Huntsville now....but I have to go to Scottsboro again for another family Christmas party today.
"Once more into the breech..."
