Squabble Central

Squabble Central

Miraculously, our holiday in Maryland was much less stressful than years past. Not exactly sure why– it was still crazy, we still shuttled around in a car for hours each day, and Bubs and I still endured the stupid car squabbles between my mom and dad. Still, I guess we had a different mindset this time. We just tried not to let stuff get to us.

And let me tell you, the vacation certainly did not start off on a good note. God, there was this couple who sat behind us on the plane. They had their 5 year-old daughter wedged between them, and geez, the kid was more mature than the adults. Seriously people. If you’re going to have kids, please don’t be a child yourself. The dad kept whining to the mom: “Tell her to stop wiggling around in her seat, because she’s knocking off all my electronics!” Uh hello, the kid is sitting right next to you: tell her your damn self. And control your frickin’ kid for Crissakes. Anyway, after his puerile fit, he proceed to step out into the aisle and do yoga stretches. Say what? Yup exactly. And he started like putting his feet on people’s seats, he leaned into John’s seatback… wtf? Total asshole. Needless to say, this punk and his crew made our flight miserable. Was the least restful flight I’ve had in a long time.

Anyway, on to the holiday. Johnny was back in town: came home abruptly from Taiwan to take care of grad school paperwork, blah, blah. Who knows. There’s always something. I also got wind that he lost his passport, and of course who is “helping” him re-apply for a new one? My parents. Just hits a nerve everytime. I mean, my parents are frickin’ senior citizens now. Why are they wasting hours making calls and fumbling around online when my brainiac AB Duke scholar of a brother could be researching this shit on his own? Granted, I’m sure his online research skills are not as savvy as mine 🙂 but still, certainly they are far better than those of our parents, right? So annoying. He also gave me a book, The Secret, which John read in one night. John says it’s weird– all about how you can get everything you want with positive thinking. I’m all for good attitude but please. Asking the universe for a parking space (yes, the author uses that as an example!)? Stop being a lazy fucker and walk your ass from the far end of the lot. Plus, what kind of moron would trouble the universe with such a petty request? Lame. No, I haven’t read the book myself, so I know my comment is very judgmental. That’s why this is no one else’s blog but mine.

In other news, I saw my in-laws. They are the same. And their dog Oliver. Holy shit. Fat. as. hell. I mean, what do I expect: eggs/bacon every morning for breakfast, his usual monstrous scoops of dog kibble, plus a goddamn treat every five minutes (for doing NOTHING, mind you). Seriously, the dog is supposed to be maybe 80 lbs. He weighs more than I do. Plus he has hip dysplasia. And my mom-in-law had the nerve to say, “He’s just really big boned. Now, tell me if you think otherwise, but I don’t think he’s…” Even before she finished, I said, “Yeah, he’s FAT!” I think she was a bit surprised by my bluntness, but hey, denial ain’t just a river in Egypt. Poor, poor dog. He’s going to have a very short life, and no matter how much enjoyment he gets from food, I’m sure he’d enjoy strong health and real canine mobility much more. He can’t even run around with the neighbor’s dog. Ugh. Dog needs to go to a boot camp.

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