There is not enough Costa Coffee in the world to prepare you for your mother to arrive in Europe from the America's. I arrived at the airport in black and white striped shorts, looking very Martha's Vineyard, but classy. And out she walked straight from her 17 hour flight just having passed through customs.
I find there are a number of hard things to explain to your mother. The first being how you can live in Spain for four months and still not be able to speak conversational Spanish. And, as I said to her, “madre I could have a fluent conversation with a two year old.” I know what “bolsa” means! And, once I overheard my teacher tell a student, “tu eres tarde” and knew exactly what that meant. So, suck on that.
The Mother Is In Europe
Barcelona is a beautiful city full of people who speak Catalan. We did it all on the first day. We went shopping. Had dinner at Los Cochuras, which I'm almost positive means snails and once again did not run into Shakira. We also saw the magic fountains, how more magical can your first trip in Europe be?
High Tea With My Mother
We were seated across from an older woman and her grand daughter and one woman was wearing white. After Labor Day!!! We were scandalized and tried to not be off put. The tea was good, the courses immaculate.
I may have missed putting the entire scone in my mouth, but there are worse things that can happen. I also missed the chicken salad croissant, but what can one do. If the waiter noticed he didn't say anything and that's all that matters. High tea is an experience. I loved it, I would do it again. Who KNEW it was filling?
Raven wrote a letter to her favorite professor and in return she was entered to win tickets. Together we won. All my single friends are jealous of our friendship to be honest.
The next day I got all dressed up. Decked up in my retro seventies pantsuit and a 4.5 inch gladiator wedges. My hair is fixed. I even managed to throw on some cologne. I looked beautiful and over exaggerated as usual with my flared and tapered white linen dress pants.
We were three rows back. I thought I would hate the ballet. I'm sitting there, still expecting dialogue for some point, when Cinderella comes out. We have the wicked step sisters, who by far are the best part of the show, and the wicked step mother. By the time the first curtain draws a continuous stream of classical music was hammered home and not a single word was spoken.
My Life Compared To A 40 Year Old
I've decided I'm going to have children. I'd never really thought about it, but now I have a clear concept. It will happen in my thirties. I'll be fresh off my divorce. I'll be heart broken, trying to put my life back together with a lot of money. Fleeing the country, I will adopt a nice baby. Gender is not important.
I'll probably be in France. We'll live in the country side in our nice chateau. We'll have a butler. Maybe a maid. I'll be a single parent with good wifi and dogs. We'll all be happy together. I've decided that I'm going to have to Sheryl Crow this shit.
Prince Harry told me all about quantum physics. It was fascinating. Did I know what was happening? No, but I was like this is really interesting and thank god I'm a business major because I can barely pass these classes.
Then, later that night I read Prince William's paper on queer theory. It was amazing? I felt like I was reading one of those obnoxious sources that uses too many big words. It was in that moment I realized I was the dumbest member of this little group and as an English minor it only kind of broke my little heart apart.
It's Not My Party
It's not really my scene. A good night for me is pulling out an Olivia Newton-John vinyl. Watching some Simple Life reruns, maybe write a popping blog article or two. I don't really party.
I've been told by many people that my school has really good parties. Jenny really liked the foam party one of the student organizations hosted. People got really fucked up and Warner went to one of the fraternity glow parties and he said it was amazing.
The list of drugs he's done is extensive. I think the really question is what drugs hasn't he done. In other news the current art project he's working on includes lots of dicks. After all who doesn't like a big dick in the morning. Am I right?
He also smokes. I love the smell of cigarettes, so other then the fact that he's low key going to die young, I think that's sexy. He asked me if I wanted a cigarette just to hold. For a moment I thought I was in The Fault In Our Stars.
Wax On, Hair Off
Now I took some advice from Cosmopolitan's article on hair removal. I wish I had the money to pay someone to rip the hair off my body, but tragically my slightly above minimum wage job doesn't support such luxuries when your trying to save money. Cosmo suggested the Sally Hansen Waxing Kit. It was only ten dollars and I said yes.
It was a good price and I would recommend using it. Joyce said she didn't like it, but I'm satisfied with the results. It was spa day for me. I turned on the new Florence and the Machine album How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful and sat down in the kitchen on some ratty towels and waxed away.
Then, I said I'll get some gas. Ran into the Miss Sara Bellum's ex boyfriend. I didn't even wave. I got out. Pumped my gas. Opened my Vogue and waited for the pump to click. He's an obnoxious heterosexual male. I'm sure he didn't have time to notice my unkempt hair with me giving the side eye.
The twins loved it. I went out with them to a Trivia Night (Team name: Bed, Bath, & Beyonce) and I had on these Taylor Swiftesque blue spandex. Their mother said they were not allowed to go out dressed like that. To be fair if I had an ass it would have been hanging out. I looked flawless. My six inch wedges elongated my legs. A man whistled on me. I don't think he knew I wasn't female. So, that's awkward for him. I'm honestly just so glad I got slut shamed. Life goals accomplished.
The next time I wore shorts I was out with Sacajawea at my coworker's birthday celebration. Sacajawea loved my look. She said my shorts were shorter then hers (I swear they were the same length). Her mother wondered what I was wearing and she said with shorts like that she thought it was promiscuous to wear heels.
I didn't think it was the time to tell her about my wardrobe choices. The problem with Sacajawea and I going out in public together is that we both act like were under the influence of something without drinking. No one believed that we were sober the entire time.
Tear It Down
Black and I decided to go and it was honestly so exciting. They told us to take anything we wanted from the building. It used to be the arts building on campus. It was a treasure hunt.
Mind you I was doing all of this in my walking shoes. 6 inch blue platform wedges. There my most comfortable shoes and it really wasn't a struggle, but I could tell everyone else was like you are going to die. For some reason there were lockers in this building. It was the oldest building on campus and at some point they decided lockers were necessary.
We also found this ornate green candy dish. It was in one of the lockers for some reason. I don't have any answers for this. I don't think my school has even torn this building down, yet. It's a mess. We ended up finding all of the art in the basement.
All of these spirits are supposed to be in the attic. I don't know why they decided to habitat the same place, but okay. One of the programs I'm in had an annual tradition of telling ghost stories in there for Halloween. I'm sure it was terrifying. I'm just thinking if we tear this building down aren't the spirits going to be in the new building. It's supposed to be finished my junior year and we'll see how well that goes.
The new building is modern and retro and plated with glass and I love it. There was this huge reveal by the President of the new design and I was just like lol one of my teachers showed me these pictures the day you revealed them to the faculty.
I spent the rest of it with the twins, because it was there birthday. And, if you want to know about that, it was the subject of my last Tasty Tuesday.
Link to: Eat A Hamburger
The Fallout (Without The Boy)
Everyone always talks about the actual coming out, but no one seems to tell you about the fall out. The fall out is still falling. And, I have to say it's kind of shitty. I'm trying to just laugh at it, but my parents are saying the most homophobic things. They also funny enough think they were the first people I told.
Like, LOL. No. Literally everyone else knew before you. You just didn't want to know. I feel like I'm handling it well. I already knew I would disappoint them. I already knew what they would say. It's just new actually having them say it.
Both my father and mother have told me at length that “I chose this”. No one would choose to be discriminated against. I don't particularly like being made to feel uncomfortable in public when I'm alone. I don't enjoy that. I wish I could just go in the stores and buy things, but instead I order things online.
They have also already decreed how me and the nonexistent boyfriend will act if I bring him home. We are not to kiss in front of them. As if I was planning on making out in front of my parents. We cannot hold hands or make any physical contact. We are not allowed to sit close to each other.
I'm just like how about we don't even sit in the same room as each other, and maybe we shouldn't breath when we're in each others presence. If they truly think I would subject any boyfriend to this they are out of their minds. I guess they're doing their best to be open about this, but I'm still looking at them side eyed.
My mother has also already started calling this fictional boyfriend a “friend”. I told her that she would call him my boyfriend. I am dating him. Do not decrease his significance, because it makes you uncomfortable. I was informed that I was pushing her too hard. No. I sit here and listen to all of your homophobic nonsense. This however is about someone else. My future boyfriend doesn't deserve this.
I was informed that I knew I was gay too young. I'm sorry. I told you when I was eighteen and your questioning that I knew I was gay when I was ten? What is that. They have also started to shift away from blaming themselves for my gayness to blaming pop culture.
Lady Gaga and Madonna made me gay. No, they didn't. I knew I was gay at 10. I was watching Chuck and Scooby Doo. The gayest shows out there. I started buying music Freshmen year of High School and that consisted of Sheryl Crow and Hilary Duff. Before that my life consisted of Christian radio and Celine Dion. Come on family.
There are too many gays on TV. Mind you both have said they are not 'homophobic'. We treat gay people right. I had a gay friend once. Okay. Thanks. Your token gay friend doesn't mean your not homophobic. Both of my parents are.
My father also suggested that porn is why I'm gay. We just got functioning internet this summer. I was not watching porn. Shout out to everyone who watches porn, but I'm very old fashioned. I read my porn. I just could not handle him.
It is nice having it out in the open, but instead of realizing internally that they hate me, I just hear it instead. I don't think they're ever going to change. My mother went out to get coffee with her friend who also has a gay son. Surprised she didn't come home with a Christian self help book on how to fix your gay kid.
I love knowing that they think there's something wrong with me, and if they just wait it out long enough. It will go away. I will realize that I love women and that this whole time the media mislead me.
My mother also totally put together who my crush is. That was funny. And, she did say she can't imagine me having sex with another man. I told her I hoped she didn't see me having sex with anyone.
At the moment I have to be the strong one who lets them come to terms with it. I've had eight years. They've only had a month. I'm just not sure how long I have to support them before I call them out on all their shit.
The Charity Friend
There was something I wanted to write about or more accurately tell you about. Because, there's a point where no matter how much your friends like you they want you to shut the fuck up about something. This thing hasn't happened, yet. And, I don't even know if it's going to happen. I'm trying to be calm, cool, collected. None of which I am, and if it doesn't happen I'll tell you anyway. I will be heartbroken.
I am on Christmas break at the moment. Needless to say nothing is happening to me. I'm exceedingly dull. I don't do anything. Everyone else is out chilling with friends, making out with their boyfriends, and I'm sitting at home crying about how happy this book makes me.
The only thing I can think of is the Christmas gathering I had. You can call it a party if you want, but the only shots people took were of water. I would love to say it was a resounding success, but it wasn't. It was actually a hot ass mess. That's what it was.
My mother was in a vengeful mood and she ate an entire tray cookies I made and casually mentioned how I had to remake those. You know I made all the food with my questionable cooking talents. I don't know what I did to upset her, but I did something. That was not kosher. I was like this bitch. Needless to say I did remake them and no one ate them. It was really tragic.
Two people were also obnoxiously early and they are always late. Not as if I mind. But, that was the day Madonna dropped her pre-release with the six new songs. I was just through breaking down to “Living For Love” when the doorbell rang. It was fine. We talked and I love them.
Other people trickled in and I had a good fifteen people there. Two people were not there, even though they said they were coming. I was confused. I don't know why one of them didn't come, but the second one said her uncle died. This is Jenny by the way and I was like that was fine. Then, she sends me an e-mail that tells me she dropped off my present and the man didn't seem to appreciate it. I don't know if she was kidding. I was too afraid to ask.
A real problem was that people weren't mixing. I know not everyone knows each other. That's why you play party games. What I do every time. Five people refused to play a game. I was like what the fuck. These are group games. Get the fuck over it and pick a side and calm yourself. Whatever. We didn't play a game.
Thunder informed me that she would have played Pictionary, but that she didn't like party games. I consider Pictionary a party game and I was like whatever. The moment has passed. I mean Sacajawea and her boy toy sat on the couch grasping at each other all night anyway. The only person who really wanted to play a game was me. I just feel like I was a horrible host not mingling with the masses.
The party if you want to call it that really ended about 8:30. People came at 5:00 or later and left at 8:30 or earlier. Do you ever just feel like the charity friend. Like people only humor your presence, because they feel bad for you. That is my relationship with these people, I have to make the plans or there are no plans. I was an emotional train wreck at the beginning of this semester and the only people I saw were the twins. They forced me to go out. No one else took there time out to see me. I realize some of these people don't even live in the same city anymore, but fall break comes around. Not acknowledged.
I might be over thinking it, but I have a really rocky relationship when it comes to friends. I really shouldn't be so offended. I don't consider most of these people friends. There just people I enjoy spending time with. That's not the same thing as a friend.
One weird thing that happened is that Thunder called me a liar. Not really a big deal. None of these people were really under the impression I was a saint. I am the person who had borderline pneumonia, but tells everyone I had pneumonia. She was leaving with her sister J. Lo and we were talking about these girls who were dating. Specifically, I said they were dating.
Thunder informs me that I am lying and not to make things up. To say they were dating may have been an over exaggeration, but these girls were not just friends. They sat on the couch I was sitting on and fondled each other in front of me. They sat at lunch together and when they broke up they no longer sat next to each other. They were something if they weren't dating.
It didn't phase me. It's when the party ends and I check my e-mail that I see that I got something from her saying she was sorry for calling me a liar. Then, proceeds to explain that she was under a lot of stress.
I replied back and told her it was fine. Whenever you justify why you did something it's not an apology. It means you still think you were right and that you had good reason. As I said it didn't bother me. People have said a lot worse things about me then calling me a liar.
Being the basic ass bitch I am, I put this on twitter. Thunder doesn't even have twitter on her phone, but some how she saw it and I got another e-mail apologizing for justifying her actions. It was passive aggressive of me. I shouldn't have made her feel like shit over something I literally didn't give a fuck about. At the same time I didn't feel the need to coddle her.
I say all of this and I wonder why I don't have friends.
Speaking of that it was very interesting to see Rosencrantz and J. Lo shacked up together on the couch talking away. I knew they were friends again, but it was strange. Last year J. Lo ignored every single one of her friends for this one girl. Both Rosencrantz and I told her how that made us feel and how we wanted her to spend more time with us.
J. Lo changed nothing. Not a single thing. We told her how we felt and she didn't give it a second thought. Apparently Rosencrantz has forgiven her.
It's not even that I haven't forgiven her it's just that I don't think of her as a friend anymore. You don't ignore a friend or push them to the side because someone better comes along. She can't fix it. I still like spending time with her, but she's a shitty friend. I wish I was like Rosencrantz, just so able to forget and move on.
It just made feel so replaceable. That's why people kill themselves. It's not that they don't think someone loves them or that there aren't people who care about them. It's that these same people will move on and find someone better then you. It's horrifying to realize how much someone doesn't need you.
That said after the real party inhabitants left I was left with the three introverts. A great group to hold a conversation with and these three people stayed and chatted with me until 11:30. It was really great. I loved getting to talk to them like that. It wasn't the success I imagined, but I think it worked out in the best way possible. I loved it.
The Nagoya protocol. That's what part two of two is going to be about.
I'm lying to you. I was in the science building on campus, in one of the student lounges, with no good place to plug in my laptop, and I picked up one of the science journals, and there was a very long, comprehensive article on the Nagoya protocol. I never want to talk about it.
Hopefully, there will not be a third part to this two part drama that is my car. I do call him the grandfather, but lately he's been living up to that reputation, and I'm really not here for it.
I was on my way to school. It was Sunday, the day before school started. I was on my way to meeting on campus. I'm just driving along when I'm pushing the gas pedal, and it is not speeding the car up. If anything it is braking the car. I get into a turn lane, and only because God deemed it appropriate did I make it through the light before stalling on a side street right in front of this elementary school.
I do not have a cellphone. I am downtown, with a stalled car unable to call anyone. It is Sunday, all respectable places of business are closed, no one is at the school. It has to be a 100 degrees outside, and I am walking to find someone who will let me borrow their phone. Not to call my mother, but instead to call the person I was meeting at school. She would have to come get me. My mother and I were in a spitting match. It was not okay.
He acquiesces and I go to my meeting. I tell Thunder what happens and she insists that she'll help me. That makes sense. I don't know what I expected her to say. “Sorry, bitch, but I've got places to be. As in with my boyfriend.” Her boyfriend, shows up on campus, and collectively we go out to Auto Zone and buy some oil for the car. Why we thought this would fix the acceleration problem. I don't know, but we were convinced it was a possibility.
I leave the school. Using two main roads home, peeved when I'm stopped at the bottom of a hill and have to accelerate over the top of it. That was fun. I made it with no serious problems, other then it took me forever to cross an intersection.
I get home, tell my father what happened, he tells me it's either the fuel pump or the fuel filter and that I should use mother's car to get to school on Monday. My father is out of state as all of this is happening. I still very peeved with my mother refuse to ask her for it, and calm my nerves by turning up Havana Brown and taking side streets all the way to school.
The question of whether or not I made it on time is still not answered. I checked my school e-mail that morning, getting a new one from my Algebra teacher to bring my textbook to class, but my teacher that moved the class to an entirely different building could not be bothered. Because, I'm already late I don't mention to the history professor, that hey I'm in the wrong class. I decided I will just sit through it.
Thank, God some other poor confused student asked the important question and got us both to the right class. The best part of being so stressed out about driving to school, is that you can't really worry about what your first day of school is. The only thing that stands out to me is that my algebra teacher was too excited, too fast, and if I did not have a working knowledge of how to do Least Common Multiples, I would be failing that class so hard right now.
Oh, she's also decided that were having a “lab”. Woman, this is algebra. What do you mean by “lab”. This isn't biology and I will not be playing with any test tubes in algebra.
The drive home that day, I think was the most fun. This car braked in front of me, and when I tried to regain the speed, I ended up stalling, and I swung the grandfather into the nearest parking lot, which just so happened to be a porn store. Well, actually a toy store, because they specialized in other things. Dildos for everyone.
Once, home, I'm informed by my father that we need to get the fuel filter replaced at Valvoline. I barely made it home that day. I don't know how well he expected that to end. It ended okay. Valvoline doesn't change out fuel filters and they told us to go to Firestone. We go there, we leave the car, and my mother and I go grocery shopping. Although, I did force her to stop at McDonald's first for that $1 large sweet tea. Let me tell you everything. My day was okay.
Then. Father decides to call. I tell him we went to Firestone. He flips his shit. It costs too much money, I tell him I will pay for it. That makes it worse. We have to go back out to bring the car back home. He decided the fuel filter wasn't the problem. My mother and I go back out. I start the car, and we are almost home. I just have to make it through this one light, and I can coast down to our neighborhood.
That was not meant to be. The car stalls in the middle of the intersection. I keep saying that for dramatic effect, but other then the other people in the left hand turn lane, I wasn't really blocking anything. I was in the intersection, but it wasn't stopping through traffic.
The stoplight goes through it's cycle. I have the car turned off the whole time, flashers on, reading my Architectural Digest, just waiting for when the car will make it through the light. It turns green again. I start the car up. I press the gas and it lets me through the light.
Now that my father has heard about all this stalling he was worried enough to hire a mechanic to come out and replace the fuel pump. To the great shock of everyone the mechanic got in a car wreck that day and had to get fifteen stitches in his left arm.I don't know what else could happen. I hope nothing until next year.
That's what Thunder told me. I've inherited her curse as an outgoing senior. The First Semester Car Problem Curse.
Melodrama puncutated with exclamation points.