Bad choices and Beavers (part deux)

So somehow my family found itself wholly unable to communicate with one another while making plans for this winter break. I was told that I had to find something to do with myself for New Year's other than what I usually do, which is bum around at my aunt's house. So I was going to go back to Canada. Plan was, I'd drive the 6 hours to Kingston, spend the night in my empty house, then drive 4 more hours up to C's house and spend New Year's with her.

I woke up this morning not so excited to hop in the car. I had some things to do before leaving--my grandmother came over for breakfast, I went grocery shopping (during which the trunk of my car slammed into my head, another reason why I wasn't so keen on driving today), etc. and suddenly it was 1, not 11 when I had wanted to go. My cousin and my aunt had been saying I should stay, and by 1 I was not at all sure I wanted to drive to the Wasteland. So I stayed and had lunch...at 2:30.

Then I called C and canceled my plans with her. I feel bad, I love C and this is the second time I was supposed to see her family and bailed.
But I'm perfectly happy to keep doing nothing here in USA. We play games, watch movies, eat food, go shopping--none of which I would be doing tonight if I was in Kingston like I was supposed to be.

My father is a little disappointed that I didn't go. I think he's worried about me--I don't have a problem with driving normally--but he says it's fine for me to stay as long as I do my homework. What a good dad.
So here I am blogging instead of doing my work...

Bad choices and Beavers (part une)

So my best friend, who we shall refer to as B, recommended over the summer that I buy my father, a curler, "Men with Brooms," a curling movie.
B is a bit of a slut (I can't remember if she's been discussed previously) so I was a bit concerned about buying him this movie. But I did, and gave it to him tonight for Hannukah, and now we are watching it.
Together.
Unfortunately, B is a slut, and this movie is the Canadian version of "American Pie". But with curling. And beavers.

In the current scene, the main characters, who are essentially huge thirty-something bums with beavers tattooed on their chests just got out of the hearse they were riding in after having their asses whooped by old men at curling in order to remove a road block of BEAVERS.
There were so many beavers!!!

Anyway, I can appreciate such things, being pseudo-Canadian, as we all know. Beavers make me smile with a joy that can only be known by one who lives in Land of Moose and Beaver (Ontario) and expects to see beavers, moose, polar bears or similar walking down the street at random.
My father does not see the joy in the beavers.

There's really a lot of sex in this movie. Now is a scene of someone jerking off. It's very inappropriate for me to be watching with my non-Canadian father. Has led to several v. awkward moments thus far.
Also, beavers make a really stupid noise when they are blocking the road.

I'm pretty sure he's confused as to why I gave him "American Pie"-esque movie for Jewish holiday.

In other news, latkes made with a combination of white and orange potatoes and then fried as per usual, are really best.

Friends vs. Family

So here I have had this blog for months and months and prob. haven't ever mentioned my brother. He's 16, still lives with my parents, and wrestles. Thats pretty much all there is to him.

Tonight over dinner we (my fam) had an argument which boils down to my brother being a jerk.

My family always goes to my grandparents’ house in New Jersey for Christmas. This is for the simple reason that my family is Jewish, and we have never been especially inclined toward Chinese Food as a Christmas delicacy. So we go to my mother’s parents, who are Christian. Then we go to my father’s family for New Year’s.
My parents generally go to Boston or somewhere similar just the two of them for New Year’s, and I stay with my aunts. This is fine (not really) but this year my brother made a fuss about wanting to be at home (which he claims is about his having to wrestle) and so my family isn’t leaving for Christmas until the 23^rd (we’re driving) and they’re leaving on the 28^th.

Apparently these five days are a HUGE inconvenience for my brother, who complained so much (I really have no idea why, I quite enjoy Christmas with my grandparents, especially since if we weren’t there we wouldn’t be having Christmas as all, which he doesn’t seem really to understand) that my father had to scold him at the dinnertable about being a spoilt brat (which I have always known.)

My brother wants to stay at home because his friend is home from university. I know this because he just left to go see the friend. There’s supposed to be a HUGE snowstorm tonight, so my brother left home (like an insane person) to go see his friend.

He had been on the phone with the friend while I was in the room. Friend was coming home tonight (9pm) from university. It sounded like Friend didn’t really want to see my brother tonight, which made sense to me—I would much rather spend my first night home with my family instead of with my friends, no matter how good the friends were. I, like an idiot, mentioned this to my brother. His response: no, Friend was just messing around. ( I didn’t really believe this.) Friend wanted to see everyone. I obviously don’t understand this because his friends are his family and I clearly don’t have this relationship with anyone. Duh.

So apparently this is why my brother is so eager to get away from his family. Because he has friends instead. Duh.

Sorry for the long post, but that was just the background.

I have been wondering about what we mean when we say “family.” I use the term only for people to whom I am actually related, to whom I have common bonds and ancestry. Apparently unlike my brother, I like my family, and do my best to see them as often as possible. It isn’t ever a burden to see them. I miss them terribly and try not ever to hurt them. Since my moving out to go to university, my brother has spent almost no time at home with my parents, who seem to feel the empty nest rather acutely.

Now, I live with my friends. The ones I don’t live with I eat with, I cook with, I sleep with, and I love.

But I could never, ever even consider them as a replacement for my family.

I have a best friend now, for the first time since I was little. She lives in Vancouver. I miss her like crazy when we aren’t together, which is most of the time. I love her. But she isn’t family.

Even, I expect, when (if) I marry, I’m not convinced that the lucky gentleman will be as much family as my parents are.

My brother’s attitude clearly hurts my parents, and it hurts me. I guess I just can’t imagine being so self-absorbed that I would be able to do that.

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

Pierced.

So I've been thinking a lot about people who have piercings (and tattoos) in unusual places. A good friend of mine revealed yesterday that he has a fairly... um. Anyway, a piercing. And I'm trying to figure out why one would have an unusual piercing. To get noticed? To intrigue?

Anyway, I suppose this goes back to closed-mindedness and no accepting different things. I have my ears pierced but I never wear earrings (this isn't because I have a problem with earrings, it's because my ears are different lengths and I don't like my earlobes very much) so I guess I don't understand why anyone would want piercings in other places. My friend AS got his eyebrow pierced last year. It didn't really match his personality, but we loved him anyway. R has her nose pierced. I don't like it very much, but she does. It is important not to forget my best friend who got drunk last year and stuck a thumb-tack through her lip, and so now has a lip piercing which, on her, I don't completely hate. My cousin has one, too. Her parents aren't big fans. A friend from home wants to get second piercings on her ears this weekend (which is what brought this topic up in the first place.) This friend only got the first piercings done a year and a half ago, and wasn't really the bravest person in doing it. I can't really understand why she wants second ones. But she does, so, fine, I suppose.

But then we get back to my gentleman friend whose piercing departs from the usual canvas of his face. (This, by the way, is the gentleman friend on whom I am crushing. Can I have relations with someone with such an unusual...addition?) Which is where the concern comes from.

So the gist of it is, I must learn to be accepting, and not desert my relationship with my gentleman friend just because he's done something unusual to himself. I would miss him too much.
I will learn to be accepting and maybe someday I will understand.
Maybe.

USA Again.

I have a few choice words to say about the USA. Esp. re: the drinking age.
My Winter break is gonna be pretty boring.
The end.

Perhaps I will at some point remember to actually say these words.

Boys.

So, I have a gentleman friend who I've been spending an increasing amount of time with. This is a v. clear indication that men and women can't be friends. We are now friends. Apparently I decided that being friends is boring, so I developed what can only be called a whopping crush on him.
I don't like it.
At all.

I don't like relationships and I don't like crushes.
I have emotional/commitment/fear issues.
It sucks.

I really think that in anticipation of this sucking a lot (either me being rejected, me being a wuss, or me eventually breaking up with this particular person) someone should make me a really great "boys suck" mix CD or similar.
Thank you for you help in this endeavor.

Canada, Part Toi

According to the internet, it is -9° in Kingston today. Fahrenheit. And there is snow and ice everywhere. I went to breakfast (which is unusual, but I did it anyway) wearing thick stockings, jeans, Ugg snow boots (NOT the ugly poser-boots, actual snow boots, which are great because of their snow-boot capacity, their warmth AND their incredible traction), three layers of shirts, sweatshirt, ski jacket, heavy gloves, a scarf and two hats.

I was still cold.

The concern here is about quite how screwed I am for when it gets to be actually cold in January.

Ouch.

I wiped out while ice skating yesterday. Other than that it was quite a good time, being outside under the snow, etc. But then I wiped out and injured myself. By injured I mean bruised. It's v. painful (and I am v. mature, so really...) and its on my right thigh, which is fine, except I sleep on that side, so I couldn't sleep last night. Thrilling.

R wiped out and crashed onto her knees, one of which has a bruise the shape of a Star of David now.
PS, R is Catholic.

Man-Repellant

It's like bug-spray.
Astonishing how well and with how much talent a not-bad-looking person such as myself is able to quite thoroughly repel men. So C and her sister (who goes to RMC and who, therefore, should know) has given me the following advice (which I have always used in every other arena of my life, I don't know how it didn't manage to extend to this one): It is better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission.
So that's my new philosophy.
Get ready, men.
(prob not.)

Now I really hope nobody reads my blog.
(I swear, I'm sober while writing this.)

C

C has returned, do not panic.

Missing Courtesy

So, all other complaints about my housemates (and there are many, many of them) aside, I have this to say: C is missing.

She has been having a bit of a difficult term, and as such doesn't have any exams this week but has been bumming around anyway. She went away for Thanksgiving last weekend and told us she'd be back on Monday. Fine. I got back Tuesday night and saw, upon my return, that her car is not where it usually is in our driveway. Apparently, nobody has heard from her. I'm glad I wasn't here on Monday or I would have been worrying about her that much longer.
I know she's okay (or at least, she was) because she was on facebook last night, she wrote on someone's wall. Not anyone living in our house, but someone, anyway, so I know she's alive (or at least, was last night.) But I've called her, texted her, written on her and her sister's facebooks, and she hasn't responded. Another one of my housemates, R, has also done these things. C and R aren't best friends, but R gets worried like any normal person.

Now, worried as I am, I'm a little pissed at C. She has methods of communication. She has my and R's facebooks, e-mail addresses, cellphone numbers, etc. She even has my American cell number, she could have called me within the States this weekend to let me know what her plans were. There are also things that still need to be done around the house. I need to pay January rent--C needs to give me a cheque. We also need to return our housekeys in exchange for new ones. C lost hers, so she'll need to pay for it, and clean up loose ends. The people in this house would have been happy to help, but we aren't psychics, you know? I'd think it was just common courtesy to let us know what was going on.

I understand we're nobody's mommies (thank God.) but we do worry. Something could have happened, you know?

Which brings up the question: what caused people to worry before this age of constant communication? (Everything, probably.)