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Bright and Beautiful
Jul. 22nd, 2004 01:13 pmThe day, not me:)
Managed to yell at both of my parents yesterday. What're the odds? Actually, since they were both bugging me about the same thing, the odds were quite high actually.
My dad wants me to call my grandfather and explain why I don't know when I can come home because my grandfather doesn't believe my father. I'm starting to understand the appeal of grandchildren. They distract one's parents from the need to make one crazy.
In a fit of pique (the problem being I wasn't supposed to have to finance a plane ticket home as they were all supposed to come to me, yet that plan failed miserably), I asked why everyone wouldn't leave me alone about making a decision, and why suddenly I was at fault for the delay. It was their fault I had to hussle and find affordable tickets as, and let me repeat, I wasn't supposed to go home this summer.
My mother's response, "Well, it's because you're the youngest." At 30, this is only mildly funny. She also then proceeded to tell me that the male/female ratio in Denver is 7 to 1.
Then she giggled.
"Mom," I said, struggling for patience, but seriously pissed off by now, "This isn't the silver boom. There's no 7 to 1 ratio." She conceded that perhaps I was right. And then said that she'd met a nice young woman my age willing to take me out to meet men in Denver. I told her that she needed to go back to work and hung up on her.
She's the coolest and most supportive Mom I know, but some days she's just batshit crazy. Nuttier than a fruitcake in January. (You know, because all of the citron is gone. ) She's also finally figured out the joys of online shopping, and told me she was sending me something in an envelope, as opposed, I guess to carrier pigeon.
So, after dealing with two teenage boys, one of whom is now sporting sparkly purple hair, I slogged home to fall onto the couch, ordered Thai food from Toi, and watched Camelot, which made it all better. I sang along to the entire movie, and just thoroughly enjoyed myself, and realized on that on HAL, you can tell that Richard Harris is wearing blue eyeshadow. And Franco Nero is awfully pretty, but dude, how could you not choose Richard Harris? I mean the scene when he meets Mordred, and he's so smart, and careful, and quiet about his mistake, he's just so beautiful.
And I want my hair to do the cool '60's Vanessa Redgrave, Catherine Deneuve thing. But alas, I think it's rebelling against that possibility, and is very Bjorky today:)
Managed to yell at both of my parents yesterday. What're the odds? Actually, since they were both bugging me about the same thing, the odds were quite high actually.
My dad wants me to call my grandfather and explain why I don't know when I can come home because my grandfather doesn't believe my father. I'm starting to understand the appeal of grandchildren. They distract one's parents from the need to make one crazy.
In a fit of pique (the problem being I wasn't supposed to have to finance a plane ticket home as they were all supposed to come to me, yet that plan failed miserably), I asked why everyone wouldn't leave me alone about making a decision, and why suddenly I was at fault for the delay. It was their fault I had to hussle and find affordable tickets as, and let me repeat, I wasn't supposed to go home this summer.
My mother's response, "Well, it's because you're the youngest." At 30, this is only mildly funny. She also then proceeded to tell me that the male/female ratio in Denver is 7 to 1.
Then she giggled.
"Mom," I said, struggling for patience, but seriously pissed off by now, "This isn't the silver boom. There's no 7 to 1 ratio." She conceded that perhaps I was right. And then said that she'd met a nice young woman my age willing to take me out to meet men in Denver. I told her that she needed to go back to work and hung up on her.
She's the coolest and most supportive Mom I know, but some days she's just batshit crazy. Nuttier than a fruitcake in January. (You know, because all of the citron is gone. ) She's also finally figured out the joys of online shopping, and told me she was sending me something in an envelope, as opposed, I guess to carrier pigeon.
So, after dealing with two teenage boys, one of whom is now sporting sparkly purple hair, I slogged home to fall onto the couch, ordered Thai food from Toi, and watched Camelot, which made it all better. I sang along to the entire movie, and just thoroughly enjoyed myself, and realized on that on HAL, you can tell that Richard Harris is wearing blue eyeshadow. And Franco Nero is awfully pretty, but dude, how could you not choose Richard Harris? I mean the scene when he meets Mordred, and he's so smart, and careful, and quiet about his mistake, he's just so beautiful.
And I want my hair to do the cool '60's Vanessa Redgrave, Catherine Deneuve thing. But alas, I think it's rebelling against that possibility, and is very Bjorky today:)
