Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Why it may be summer, but this is certainly not a vacation

I am here! I have arrived! 300 miles, one tank of gas, and six and a half years hours later and I am at the house of chaos and dog hair, otherwise known as casa di ma familia, or chez ma famille. As usual, the standard house rules apply, and they are as follows: 1) it will be a complete mess, and 2) there will be absolutely nothing edible anywhere in the vicinity. I have only been here two hours, and already one or the other of my parents has informed me, nay, insisted, that a) actually, iceberg lettuce is packed full of vitamins and nutrients, and he knows it's true because he saw it on television, thank you very much, and b) Advil PM doesn't actually have any sleep-inducing agents in it, it's just marked PM because it's safe to take it at night because it doesn't have any caffeine in it, and wasn't I planning on going to bed soon anyway? I casually mentioned the fact that according to the clock, it was 8:30, mother, and by casually I mean in a way that caused my jaw to clench and the already throbbing vein in my head to pulsate just a bit more, though I did force myself to walk away before I reached complete aneurysm, so there is that. 

And, as it turns out, I will also have the privilege of sleeping on a partially reclined futon in my sister's room instead of my comfortable bed in the room that has been mine for the last (I'm not even exaggerating) thirty years, because, as I found out when I walked in the door, my sister took the liberty of moving all of my stuff into her room, and all of her stuff into mine. Surprise! Which, fine, she lives here now and I don't, and that room is bigger, but thirty years of habit takes some getting used to. And, you know, carefully constructed safe haven and all that, but whatever. Bygones.

Maybe I'm just cranky because I'm hungry. I think I'm going to head into the kitchen and eat some iceberg lettuce, take an Advil PM, brush the dog hair off the futon and call it a night.

7 comments:

  1. I'd be so angry if my sister switched our rooms at our parents' house. You have every right to be annoyed.

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  2. I would be beyond annoyed. I would be stabby. Or at the very least, punch-in-the-face-y.

    Advil PM has (basically) Benadryl in it, which makes like 5% of people wired. But most people get sleepy. So you win.

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  3. Funny post!
    I hope you manage to get used to your parents house again. It alway takes me a few days..

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  4. But you're having FUN! There's that. Or, y'know, there's not that.

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  5. Recommended reading for your stay at home, You Can't Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe.

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  6. I so know this feeling, and seriously drink more around my family than I could ever do any other time! My bedroom in my parents home? Now belongs to my brother....who's going off to college....and I still have to ask him to crash in there. It's ridiculous, especially since one closet still has my stuff in it!

    So, Friday, 7:30. What direction are you coming from? Since neither of us has ever been there I was wondering if you were taking the train/subway? Maybe a group of us can travel together?

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  7. I'll be coming from Shady Grove on the red line, if that helps.

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