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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary


Lamenting the usual bullshit

Petite Annonce:

If anyone out there in Diaryland has a spare Parisian apartment to let or knows of one, please let me know. We are two extremely tidy non-smoking trilingual designers who need an affordable pet-free place to stay for a week in March. We will water plants, remove trash and recycling, do windowsÖ whatever it takes! We just canít take care of birds, cats, dogs, rabbits, hedgehogs or other household animals no matter how cute and snuggly. As you know, I am deathly allergic.

I thought I would send feelers out into the Diaryland ether, in case thereís a 6 Degree of a Kevin Bacon chance that someone knows someone knows someone with a vacant Parisian pad. I checked Friendster yesterday (the first time in months!) and maybe I should snoop around on that thing, too.

I got some gifts when in SF. The trip was, after all, centered around my familyís belated Christmas celebration. I got: Converse, pjs, a cookbook, a book about the history of Eureka Valley (which is what the Castro was called before the mid-70s. There are lots of photos in there of people I know/knew,) a gift certificate to Sephora, some Silpats, a bottle of delicious wine, a fancy corkscrew, a refill for my Chanel 19 (which looks suspiciously like it came from a douane faillite-type of store,) an emerald pendant (which I donít like, even though itís my birthstone and everything. Emeralds always look cheap to me. And my mother knows how much I hate it when she buys me jewelry, but Iím sure she got it for me cause she got them for my sisters and she didnít want me to be jealous. But Iím not a jealous person. I donít care about that stuff.)


I asked for two, ok three, things! (Converse, pjs, Chanel 19 refill.) I knew everyone would go overboard. I really wish there were a way to stop the holiday insanity, but in my family, NOT asking for anything is seen as faux martyrdom, and nobody believes you.

There were other presents, but the item that broke my heart was a ginormous (larger than 8 x 10) framed portrait of my parents, taken when they were on their Argentinian cruise last year. It was hard for me to look at without conjuring an image of the parents from The Corrections. If youíve read the book, then you can see where this is going.

Downhill (or overboard.)

What upset me is not that it is a supremely unflattering picture of my father (he looks startled and red) or that my mother looks like sheís got him in a headlock, and her smile is forced. No, what upset me is the feeling I got that this was yet another desperate attempt by my mother to foist a relationship on me, to insinuate herself into my heart and life.

Maybe Iím overthinking it, but it made me so, so sad.

My mother still doesnít understand that the way to have a relationship is to actually nurture and develop one; you canít buy it at a store, or capture it in a photo and give it away. You canít constantly criticize and judge then expect a gift to make the browbeating disappear. Itís like dealing with an emotionally needy kid, and in many ways, thatís what she is. It would be so much easier for me to cope if I could get it through my thick skull that I am the adult and she is the child in the relationship. Perhaps tensions arise because I am unwilling to play my part as the grownup? Because I am stubbornly hoping that she will one day adopt the role she is supposed to play?

Overall, it was a nice visit. I spent a lot of time at my parentsí house, eating and hanging out (but I drew the line at watching this show, which just blows. Not even Enrique CutiePie WhatísHisNose can make it better.) I discovered that my MexicanMuchoMacho cousin (who now lives at my parentsí house because a) he lost his job, and b) he is separating from his gringa wife) loves The OC and is not half bad. Itís not just The OC watching that has elevated him in my estimation; he is now a registered Democrat.

Ok, so The OC? What the fuck with that stupid storyline with Seth and the skank from the club? And the club? A transparent rip-off of Buffyís Bronze! And 90210ís PeachPit After Dark! Lame lame lame!

I really need to get some hobbies.

9:55 a.m. - 2005-01-21



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