And Then There Was The Family.

Welcome back. In keeping with my new-found desire to keep up with this blog and updating you all with what has been going on in my life in the last three years, I will now write about my family. Of course, no family post would be complete without Medea and, fortunately, she never disappoints. I will leave her many exploits til later in the post. First, I shall introduce my family.

Let's start with Dad. He's my dad. I think that's all that needs to be said about him. He does not create much drama as he is very easygoing and blends into the background of stories very easily. I will say this about him, though; he is one of the happiest people I know as I have never seen him stress about unimportant things. Unfortunately, my and my sister inherited my mom's personality so, except for him, we are all ticking time bombs waiting to go off.

This brings me to Sister. What can I say about my sister? She is 4 years older than me and has had three kids while I have yet to have any. To the casual observer, it may seem like she is trying to make me look bad. The joke is on her though because I don't like kids and don't plan on having any. She could have outdone me by just having one instead of tripling that burden for no sane reason. Yes, she says that she wanted three kids, but she is not fooling me. No, sir. I am no fool and will not be a victim to her lies about wanting children for reasons unrelated to me. Like I would believe that. She is obviously a crappy liar. As for my relationship with my sister, there is not much to say. We are civil to each other and we care about each other, but, we are not the closest siblings in the history of sibling-hood. We have different tastes in everything (mine are good and hers are tacky, fyi) and different viewpoints. I am convinced she may be a political conservative which makes no sense to me as a self-proclaimed liberal. I think the biggest reason why we are not close is the fact that I am gay. I don't fully understand her views on it. I know she is influenced by the hyper-religious upbringing we both had (mine more hyper than hers as she was not a huge church fan, btw). I also know that she does have gay friends and even had a gay roommate when she first moved out of the house. That being said, on one particular night when we were discussing Medea and during which I felt that we were bonding, I happened to mention that I was gay. I don't think I got the greatest reaction from her. I mean, she cried (as in sobbing not just a few tears) so we cut our chat short and I left. The next morning she did not mention it and has not mentioned it since. I feel fairly safe to assume that's not the greatest reaction though I do think it was not the worst by far. There was no calling my parents plus denial is a pretty sweet, if hurtful, package.

Moving on to Brother-in-law, or Bil as he shall henceforth be known. I debated on whether or not to give Bil his own paragraph. I didn't think he was important enough and the only reason he got his own paragraph is because my sister's paragraph was way too long already. Yes, I am glad he is alive and well since then I don't have to worry about Sister and her progeny being cared for. That's about it though. We don't see eye to eye on much. I was not really aware there were levels of how Mexican you can be, and then I met him. He is way, WAY, more Mexican than me. Think of a Mexican stereotype and he either fulfills it or has family that does. Is he Catholic? Yes. Does he like soccer? Yes. Has he ever gotten a buzz cut with designs on it? No, but his brother did once and I was not allowed to laugh, point, or make otherwise derisive comments. Has he ever worn those pointy boots that are, in my mind, the equivalent of a Mexican vasectomy? Once again, no. But his brother has. Did he have his last name or his hometown tinted in the back window of his vehicle? He wanted to but thankfully my sister was able to knock some sense into him.  Does he eat rat stew? Yes. Now I know that last one is not a Mexican stereotype but I thought it was worth mentioning because it is disgusting. Granted, they are mountain rats and not sewer rats that he is eating so they are supposed to be healthier. That didn't change the fact that when I lifted that pot lid there were rat whiskers, teeth and eyes staring back at me.  I think Bil's definitive story would be the one time I was riding in their Tahoe about eight or nine years ago. We were driving back to Denton from Dallas and it was close to X-mas. As we were driving going north on I-35E, an SUV with X-mas lights along its interior passed us. I was amused, in a condescending sort of way, until I looked over at Bil's face and my amusement quickly changed to terror. His face was lit-up like a child on X-mas morning who just opened one of his presents to find the one thing he had longed for the most. The child who found the one present he had made sure was in his letter to Santa and for which he had behaved and avoided having any fun in the slim chance that he might get it. Bil's smile was so intense even the Joker would have asked him to tone it down a bit. He turned to Sister and made a statement which my mind has luckily blocked out but which amounted to him wanting to place X-mas lights on his vehicle. Fortunately, Sister was not as enthusiastic about his idea as he was so it was never carried to fruition. Nevertheless, take it or leave it but that story encapsulates everything that is Bil.

Moving on to my nephews. I have two. For the sake of simplicity, I will call the older nephew Older and the younger nephew will be known as Younger. ( I must give credit where credit is due and I have to thank my Houston friend for such a clear method of pseudonym assignment.) I hope none of you are lost so far.

Older is about to finish elementary school and move to middle school. I must say that I am very protective of him. I feel a strong bond with him as I have lived with him and his parents during various periods of my life. I have always loved cartoons and I remember having a routine when I used to live with him around 2005. I would get home from work at the same time everyday and he would come into my room and we would watch The Fairly Oddparents and take a nap afterward. I feel it necessary to explain that my disdain for children does not extend to my nephews at all. Although, I am always very glad that I can send them home to their parents when I am done with them. I think the phrase to keep in mind here is, small doses.

Younger is either six or seven years old, depending on when I post this. He is a very interesting character that I often find myself at odds with. He has a very strong will and a very independent streak which are good qualities but can sometimes lead to trouble. On top of that, he is very spoiled. I don't do well with spoiled children. I guess it's because I myself am spoiled and I don't like the competition. He is just more of a handful than Older ever was. I have to say I am not proud of this, even though I secretly really am, in order to come across as more politically correct, but I used to have Older trained to look up and/or come to me when I snapped my fingers. Stop judging me. I know that sounds horrible but it was very practical.  Hear me out. If we were ever in a crowded and loud play area, as we often were, he would not hear us calling his name. However, he would hear the snapping of my fingers and come to us which turned yelling into an unnecessary task. I am only telling you this as an example of something that Younger would never go for.

Although she is the youngest, I think I will just call my niece Emily. That is, of course, not her real name. I don't feel free to divulge that kind of information without parental permission and I don't feel comfortable getting parental permission because then I would have to inform them that I have a blog and they may not like what I write in it. Back to my niece, Emily was the name that my nephews had picked for their sister while she was just an ethereal idea a couple of years ago. It was actually Younger's idea to call her Emily. He wanted her to be called Emily Elizabeth after the girl in the Clifford books. What I love about calling her Emily is that now everyone gets mad at me for calling her that and keep reminding me of her real name as if I had simply gotten confused or forgotten it. They don't know that it is their frustration that fuels my desire to call her Emily. Anyway, Emily is the newest addition to my sister's family. She is not even two months old yet. Her arrival has sure been bittersweet though. On the plus side, Medea can finally stop bugging me about having a granddaughter. She kept telling me how she wanted a granddaughter so that she could dress her up in a nice red dress. Don't ask me why the dress had to be red. Medea is the one responsible for that lunacy. On the negative side though, Emily now has the first birthday of the year. I used to have the first birthday of the year, being a March baby and all, but she had to be born in February and ruin it. On top of that, she doesn't really do anything. She just lays there. She really is kind of boring and I can't wait for her to get a personality because so far I don't think I like her. I am not a big baby person. I like kids more than I like babies and I really don't like kids so you should have an idea how I feel about babies. I have never had to and will, hopefully, never have to change a diaper in my life. I know what I like and I am pretty sure diaper changing is on the list of things I do not enjoy. That being said, I have already told Sister that, just as I did with Older and Younger, I will not babysit Emily until she is potty trained. And that's final.

The last member of what I consider my family would be my mother, or as I affectionately have dubbed her, Medea. I had meant to gloss over the other family members so I could focus on Medea's antics but, alas, brevity has never been my forte. Since this post already seems to be too long and, even if it is not, it has taken me most of the morning to write, I will probably just gloss over her antics and reserve the right to expand on them later. In a nutshell in the past two years I moved out of my parents' house after a specifically terrible fight. After six months, I moved back in with them so I could look after their house since five months later they moved to Mexico. A month after me and a very pregnant Sister (along with her family) visited them in Mexico. During the stay, Medea became very mad at me for talking to one of my aunts she had had an argument with and stopped talking to me. Two months after they came back for the birth of their granddaughter (remember Emily?) but she still refused to talk to me which came as a shock to nobody that ever knew her. Currently, they are staying at their house which coincidentally is where I am staying. They should be here for about another month but their stay is never free of drama. Unfortunately, this drama doesn't lend itself to crafty writing in order to be made bearable so them being here has only been more of an inconvenience and has provided less to write about than usual. I mean, it's not every year they leave me stranded in Odessa.  However, it is worthy of note that Medea has "divorced me" as she keeps repeating to me whenever she is talking to me. I am not necessarily sure what that entails but I shall keep you notified as the disenfranchisement develops.

I think I will stop this post for now. After all, I don't want to sound too bitter. I think I came off as bitter enough. Anyway, isn't life funny? I just realized that the person who I did not even want to write a paragraph about is the one that ended up with the longest paragraph. I was not aware that he could provide so much fodder although it seems obvious in retrospect since the whole family makes fun of him constantly.  I guess you live and you learn.

The Unwanted

Well, this post has been a long time coming. For those of you who know me, I have ranted about The Unwanted for a long time now but it is time for me to share this with the rest of the world, or all 9 of you who actually follow this blog. But first, I gotta catch up on some things so give me a minute.

First of all, Happy Fourth of July!!! There, I have used up my patriotic spirit for the year. Come back next year and I may be able to summon one more. I may even be able to add an exclamation mark.

Second, I am giving up on ever getting the clipboard back. It has been too long and I am sure I am not getting it back now.  I should have kept that thief's phone number. Oh well, you live and you learn... and then you stop trusting strangers. A lesson, I feel, I should have learned earlier in life. I guess it is better late than never.

Third, I have come up with a name for my car. Thank you all who commented and provided input as to what the car's name should be, whether you did it online or in person. After much consideration, I am following GunDiva's advice and have decided that my car is a girl. I have also decided to call her Wilhemina. It is an awesome name and everyone that read her comment seemed to agree. However, a friend of mine who reads this blog yet never comments, and thus will be known by the moniker "He Who Reads from the Shadows", gave me the idea of giving it a nickname on top of the name. He provided many suggestions and I finally settle on one. Therefore, my car is a girl who shall henceforth be named Wilhemina and shall be known by the nickname "Dirty Willie". Yes, it's kind of a weird nickname but it is kind of fitting since I hardly ever wash it and because Wilhemina is too long a name to say so it's easier to shorten it to Willie. Also, Dirty Willie just sounds good because it lends itself to many puns and double entendres. You can like it or not, my mind is made up.

Fourth, for those of you who have been wondering about the Sons of Pitches, our softball team, and our progress, I must say we have been doing great, even though we have lost both games we have played so far. It does not matter, we have only lost by one run every single time and we have had a blast playing. Also, sometimes it is better to lose than to go on to extra innings. I am just saying. I am also proud to announce that so far I have only been responsible for three outs. I have been struck out once and, though I have hit the ball twice, I have been tagged at first every time. If nothing else, we have an awesome name. The last team we played kept saying how much they liked the name "Sons of Pitches" during the hand shaking at the end of the game. So, we might have lost the game but our name was cooler so I think that makes us winners. I shall keep you updated on the progress.

Fifth, and last, I hope you guys enjoy the little mini post series of reasons why I am going to hell. As you can tell, my blogs are usually too long so I am glad I have a way now to post something small every now and then. I hope you enjoyed the first installment on the series. I have the next one ready to go but I needed to write today's post before posting the next one or otherwise it would make no sense.

Now, today's topic, The Unwanted...

A couple of weeks ago, on a Tuesday to be exact, I came home from work and took a nap. (Stick with me, the story picks up after a while.) This to mean that I did not talk to my parents until about nine at night when I left my room in search of sustenance. While talking to my mom, she casually states that aunt, one of my dad's sisters, had called to inform us that they, meaning her family composed of her and her husband and their three kids, would be arriving on Friday. Count the days, that is only a three days notice. I groaned and complained and whiningly asked how long they were gonna be here. I was given the good news that their stay was of an undetermined length because they were coming to try and find a job. Remember, this was only a three days notice they gave us. I went into freak-out mode.

I started thinking of all that I had to do and how I did not like kids. The first thing out of my mouth was "Well, I am going to have to start taking my laptop to work."  My dad seemed to be a little upset at this and told me that they were not going to allow the kids in my room when they were here, which I had already assumed was a given. I happened to point out, and my mom backed me up on this, that we had to work during the day and those kids are not the most disciplined kids we know. He seemed to understand a little more and said nothing more on the subject.

I was also informed that I was gonna have to clean my room before they got here. I was flabbergasted at this news. Cleaning my room is usually a full week's undertaking. I am not dirty, per se, but my room does tend to get cluttered. I call it organized chaos. My room may look like a mess, but I know exactly where everything is. Now I had to clean and organize everything in two days, since they were arriving in the third day.  I was just daunted by such an undertaking. Usually I would employ a three day weekend from dawn til dusk to do so and I had to do it in two evenings.

Needless to say I was pissed off. I may or may not have wished they would have a car wreck on their way here so they would not make it. Yes, I know how horrible that sounds and that is one of the reasons I am going to hell that comprise reasons one to seventy-six. They would have had it coming though. It is just plain rude, if you ask me, to give someone such short notice for moving in. They must have known for a while that they were gonna do so. A decision to uproot your family is not made overnight. It's not like we could deny them shelter. They are from El Paso and we have stayed with them plenty of times on our way to Mexico. We have never, however, stayed for more than a few days and we have always given them at least two weeks notice.

As time drew nearer to their arrival, I kept thinking of ways to safeguard my stuff.  I even asked my parents if I could use a padlock. They mentioned that a padlock would not look good on a bedroom door. I guess they did not understand that I meant to use the padlock on the front door. Apparently, you can't lock out your relatives. I don't see why not. Stupid societal rules.

They arrived on Friday evening. Thankfully, I had practice with the Sons of Pitches and was not there when they arrived. When I got home from practice, I said hi, took a shower and left for my best friend's house where I spend the weekend. I came back on Sunday for the first Sons of Pitches games, against a team by the name of "The Shockers", which cracked everyone in our team up. We still think they have no idea what their name means. For those of you reading this that are also in the dark, urbandictionary.com can clear things up for you. After the game, some of the players went to the pool and, despite it being Father's Day and my family having a cook out, I went with them because I did not want to deal with The Unwanted. This is also included in reasons 1-76 of why I am going to hell.

I had been told how I would have to be social and nice. So far, nice for me has been not yelling at the unwanted kids for daring to talk to me. I have stayed in my room for the most part since they have been here. Luckily, my aunt's husband went back to El Paso a few days after arriving. I was not aware of this for a while but it made my day when I found out. Not that I don't like him. Let's just say that if there was a world catastrophe, he would not be very high on my list of people I would make sure survived. I think he would make the list, I just am not certain of it.

As for now, The Unwanted consists of four people:

The Unwanted Aunt is my dad's sister. I have never really liked her much. I remember a Christmas, a long time ago, when she got everyone of my cousins and my siblings really cool toys as gifts and yet I got a notepad and some pencils (not colored pencils, just pencils). I was actually really happy to get a gift so I did not mind. It was not until later that someone, maybe Medea, told me that the reason I got such a crappy gift was because my aunt had forgotten about me completely so when she saw me at the Christmas party she wrapped the first thing she could find. I was not even aware that my gift was crappy but leave it to Medea to burst a young boy's bubble.  I guess I should be upset that Medea told me that, but I was never really close to my aunt so I just have never felt really close to her or cared much for her.

The Unwanted Boy is the Unwanted Aunt's oldest child. I think he is about thirteen but I am not sure because I could ask but I could not care less. He is annoying in that way in which kids who never know when to shut the hell up are. He is the constant questioner with the "but why?" questions. He is a thorn on my side and one of the main reasons why I stay in my room. So far, he has asked to use my iTunes account and annoyed me beyond belief when I said no because he did not understand why I would not. A simple, because I don't want to did not suffice.

The Unwanted Girl 1 is the middle child of the Unwanted Aunt's family.  She is kind of quiet and possibly the one I can deal with the most. Not that I want to deal with but if they were all to die and I was asked, forced, to choose one to live, it would probably be her. I have no clue what her age is either but she is younger than 13. The one thing I have noticed about her is that she giggles a lot and I can't stand her giggling. It is still better than the relentless questioning of Unwanted Boy.

The Unwanted Girl 2 is the youngest of the Unwanted Clan. She is spoiled beyond belief. She is about 8, though I may be off on that. So far, I have heard her whine instead of talking when she wants something and it took everything in me to not reach out and slap her and see if she stopped. What's interesting is that I am not usually a violent person. I also heard her cry once and I couldn't stand that either so I guess I am glad I did not slap her because she would have gone from one annoying sound to another. Oh and because it would be wrong to slap her, regardless of how much she deserved it. I think.

So these are the people I have been having to deal with. Four new and annoying people all crammed into the one extra bedroom we have. They have been hogging everything. They ate all my oreos! (In case you are wondering because of that last statement, I am 26 years old at the time I am writing this.) They have been using my internet because I was asked, forced, by my dad to give them the key for the wireless modem. I have not stopped being spiteful though. Every morning before going to work, I start downloading videos on my laptop, which I decided to leave here to see if they dare face the consequences of touching my stuff, so that it will slow down their internet access. Yes, I know I am evil and a master of passive-aggressiveness thanks to Medea, but as He Who Reads from the Shadows said to me when I was telling him of my woes, "Family are like fish, after three days they start to stink." I may have misquoted but you get the gist of it.

So far, I have survived but keep me in your thoughts because if they push me the wrong way I am not responsible for my actions. That is my defense and, though it may not hold in court, I am sticking to it for now. As usual, I will keep you updated on any new happenings. Write to you guys later!

Happy Birthday, Medea!

Today was the birthday of that special, and by "special" I intend all meanings including the good and the bad, lady who gave birth to me. I know you were all aware of that since I wrote that long post about the dilemma of what to do for her birthday. The day has passed and I have to report what happened so that you'll know that I listen to you.

My whole weekend, at least the days, revolved around her. The nights were fun. Let's talk about that first.

Friday night started with happy hour with some co-workers after work. From then on I joined some friends at another restaurant for another happy hour. The rest of the night was spent with those friends and a very opportune bottle of tequila. Good times were had by all and some very random conversations. I am not one to usually like tequila as I consider myself a vodka person. I do have a very soft spot in my heart for margaritas though. Well, after several of those, and about a liter and a half of tequila, I invited my friends to do a guest post. I figured I should tell you in advance so you won't be surprised. Especially since I just received one of them and I will be posting it soon. Anyway, it was a fun night.

Saturday night I went to see Death at a Funeral with some guy I met online. After that was over, the movie was good but the company left something to be desired, I ventured on my own to Mabel's to see a benefit drag show and hoping to meet up with some friends. Unfortunately, my friends were a no show. Fortunately, there was this cute, nerdy guy who I kind of talked to and, had I not been too much of a chicken, whose phone number I should have asked for. He is working on his dissertation to get his math PhD. That is enough for me to like him right there. I mean, what else could I possibly ask for, right? Talking to him was fun and the drag show was interesting, so despite the fact that my friends were a no show, it was a good night. (The guy's name was Max and this is a long shot but if anyone knows him you know where to find me.)

Those were my nights this weekend. My days, however, were consumed by Medea. On Saturday I was at my sister's house. She planned a cook-out to celebrate mother's birthday. I spent most of the day there and, despite wanting to leave before Medea got there, I stayed because my sister kept saying that Medea really wanted me to be there. So I stayed and the long ice was broken and me and Medea exchanged our first words in months. Then today my dad cooked liver and onions and the whole family got together again. Another all day ordeal. As you can see, especially by how much of this post was dedicated to her, Medea monopolized my weekend and I have now eaten enough cake to make my search for a soul mate near pointless. At least the family rift is closed now and we can let the healing begin.

As a last note, since this is supposed to be a short post and it is late already, I figured I would tell you all what I ended up getting her for her birthday. I thought of all your great suggestions: a card, flowers, gift card, perfume, etc. I have decided that no material thing could compare to the greatest gift I could bestow upon Medea. The one thing that I knew she wanted and that no one else could give her. I realized that the one thing that would really make her day and that she should count herself lucky to have was... the joy of being able to converse with me once again. I mean, I am awesome and I know she was dying to have me talk to her and to enjoy the wonderful conversation that no one but yours truly could provide. Great gift, huh?

P.S. Please check back soon as I will be posting the first guest post from one of my friends.
P.P.S. Shout out to the G-Man whose voyeuristic tendencies allow me one more reader if not one more commenter. I did not want to use your real name but you know who you are.

My Mother Medea*

*No, this is not a reference to Tyler Perry. Look further back in literature.

I know it is unusual for me to be posting two days in a row but I have a conundrum that I need assistance with. Now, I know I cannot count on my readers to provide any feedback judging from the lack of comments about the picture dilemma, but I suspect that just merely rambling on about it may help me make a decision. Let me start with a story...

Suppose you had family in El Paso. Also suppose your grandfather passed away so you have to go to the funeral. This means that you have to travel about 1200 miles with your parents round-trip. Now, offhand, you know you are obnoxious and that such close quarters are just not going to provide a good environment for family growth. Well, everything seems to go well and you are on your way back. Halfway through the trek back your mother, which we will call Medea, starts making ludicrous demands. This makes you waste about 2 hours of travel in a dull city we shall call Odessa. After two pointless hours, tempers escalate and you lose your cool and end up calling Medea, your mother, "ignorant". After this, things go horribly awry. First you refuse to listen to them so you put on earphones and drive around erratically till you find the place Medea was looking for and park. She proceeds to get out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind her. You drive off in search of something to eat while they tend to their business and try calling their phones to tell them to call you when they have concluded their business. You realize then that your dad left his cell phone on the car and Medea is not answering. So you turn around and find Medea bawling in the parking lot and your dad comes to you and tells you to just leave and drive home leaving them there. Remember home is about 300 miles away and your parents are older and not feeling well so you get out of the car and walk away telling them to take the car expecting them to cool down while they tend to their business and to call you to pick you up and have a silent, cold drive home.

Two hours later, while sitting at a park watching Kathy Griffin's TV show "My Life on the D-List" season 5 on your iPod (wow, look at all the plugs in one single sentence), you have the grim realization that they are not calling and that you are stuck about 300 miles from home with two days before you have to be at work. Also, the car they drove off in is your car. It is a grim realization indeed. End of story.

Now, since you are all experts at pretending now, let's pretend that this happened to someone you all might know. Someone like, let's say, yours truly. Now if this were yours truly's story, it would not end there. I would go on to say that, with the help of a good friend, I managed to get home 24 hours later. When I get home, I find Medea and my dad in the kitchen with visitors so I head straight into my bedroom and fall to bed exhausted as I have work in the a.m. It is later that I realize that my parents are still mad at me and are not talking to me. Now, I was expecting their anger to become subdued in a couple of days, two weeks at most. I was surprised that after a month they, and especially Medea, were not speaking to me. My birthday came and went and I got a phone call from my dad and a text message from Medea saying, "Feliz Cumpleanos y que Dios te bendiga." For those of you unfortunate enough not to know Spanish, that means "Happy Birthday and God bless you." (Well, almost. I could not figure out how to type the special "n" letter for the word year in Spanish). I felt that was a gutsy move, you know, mentioning God when she was not speaking to me. So far, the freeze is still on. My dad is talking to me more but Medea's attitude remains unaltered.

Finally, we arrive at the conundrum that prompted this whole post. Medea's birthday is coming up this week. Now, I now I should be respectful because she is my mother, and I probably should start by not calling her Medea but I am not about to go back and make all those changes in the post, but I am also still a bit hurt for being left behind and getting nothing for my birthday. What to do? Should I buy her a gift? Should I just let her birthday pass unnoticed? Should I just send her a text saying "Happy Birthday and may Nature bless you with health"? On that last one, I refuse to use God's name as she did since I don't really believe he exists and if he does, I do not want to incur his wrath by using his name in vain during a petty act of revenge against my mother.

All this just to say, what should I do? I was hoping writing all this would help me decide. I still am clueless. I will say this though. I have learned a valuable lesson. No, it is not "don't ever call your parents ignorant". It is, "don't ever call your parents ignorant when you are about 300 miles from home and they are likely to drive off in your car leaving you with no way home and freezing you out for months to the extent that they forget your birthday and then you have to make a difficult decision about how to act on their birthday because it is coming up." Yes, it is not a very widespread lesson. In fact, it is very specific. But I have learned it nonetheless.