Disappointed in my family, as usual. What exactly is the appeal in embracing this white trash frame of mind? I’m bleeping tired of getting phone calls and e-mails and having hours-long conversations about the utter bullshit that is the stuffed clown car I call my family. (edit: the stuffed clown car that brainwashes itself with a healthy overdose of FOX news, because they’re totally smart and stuff)
My sister referred to my dad as a “more intelligent Archie Bunker” yesterday – which is apparently an acceptable comparison because he doesn’t mind being called a racist. I don’t know when it happened, but he became a bitter and terrible person with such narrow views of the world around him. I mean… he actually told me that Trump was the ONLY person who could “fix” America, so that tells you a lot in and of itself.
My brother goes to work and brags to my colleagues (because we regrettably work in the same place) about how our family is JUST LIKE the Trailer Park Boys, and then reminisces about all the good times when his wife has called the cops on him or been abusive to him, which is just a reason for him to humiliate us all so he can laugh at our dysfunction.
What is this “we”? I’m not dysfunctional. I have a college diploma, some university, a good career. I’ve travelled the world. I read. I’m political. I look after my own shit, and I clean my house. And I know this is probably over the top, but I even have a nice yard… with gardens and grass that somehow cuts itself. I don’t go to work and brag about all the ants in my home and how funny it was when my kids ate a sub covered in them. I don’t lay around in my own filth all day and the inside of my house isn’t yellow from stale cigarette smoke. If my pets are sick or have an infection, I don’t let it go untreated for months. I don’t get into lame and completely horrendous screaming matches with my family and let all the neighbours know how low class we really are… and I don’t do it in public either. So let’s stop putting everyone in the family under the same umbrella. “We”.
Sorry, all. I’ve had a crappy week. My family sucks lately. I’m a little jilted about my father not speaking to me for the last 7 months because he’s pissed off that I don’t burn Qu’rans and ask my government to bomb the Middle East off the map. Oh, and well, to be fair he’s also angry that I am not accepting his child-abusing, live-in girlfriend. I know, I set the bar unreasonably high. And there was also that time when I told his ex about how Dad was seeing someone else behind her back, because I had respect for her and thought she ought to know the disturbing lengths he was going just to prove he won’t be told what to do by his controlling kids. And also because I was upset by how he was acting and wanted to talk to her about it, and my resentment gave way to spilling the beans.
At least he feels confident in the choices he’s made… which was evident when he filled a Christmas card with a letter cutting down me and my sister. That’s one way to spread holiday cheer. How lucky my brother is to have such a genuine relationship with good ole dad, a bond that’s only been forged by broken relationships that they created – both being well-aware that they’re at fault, but refusing to apologize because… well, it’s more important to hold a grudge than the people you love.
The men in my family get into abusive relationships, which make them miserable and bring out the worst parts of who they are. But I’m the one with the problems, as I look after my life from far, far away.