Tuesday, Oct. 12, 2004 - 2:39 a.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
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Quizilla Liberal Scale and Quiches
This from over at Sugaslice's:
This is the third entry today I think... the others are mostly quick to read here:
I'll put more real entry later. I'm actually working.
Hullo! I'm back! I figured that only two people have read this so I will add to it instead of writing a fourth entry tonight.
It is sort of interesting to see that he thinks I made it obvious I wanted him out of the house before I returned on Saturday afternoon. Interesting since it wasn't obvious to myself. I was in fact asking people about what hotels they recommended, intending to come back and find one to take him to in a taxi, to give him a copy of the Bear book I illustrated, and make plans to have brunch with him in a restaurant before he took the plane on Sunday. I just wanted him out of my hair so we'd stop having meltdowns with that TONE of voice he uses "oh, you're PERfect, you're PERfect" "You are ALWAYS right, I am wrong I am wrong, I'm sorry I'm not PERfect like you. I used to have to always be right like you". aACK.
I put a check and a ticket for the bus to the airport on his bed, and he took them and apparently didn't know where the bus left from (I think there is a phone # on the ticket) so he took a taxi (which charged him $36, which is weird cuz there is a $25 flat rate to the airport from downtown, and he gave the taxi driver the ticket and the difference in cash. And tried to get a standby plane ticket and ended up spending the whole night I think at the airport.
That shows ya what you'll get when you read everyone as totally rejecting you and taking a hissy fit. I wanted him to stay in a hotel, and would have accompanied him there, including finding one for him, and I assumed once there he'd enjoy the afternoon at the botanical gardens since he said "fine I'll go myself", and then get his first decent night's sleep, not being kept awake by me and the neighbors moving around all night, have a nice brunch and maybe shopping downtown Sunday morning... he didn't need to leave for the airport til 2:30 pm. But he left without saying goodbye. I just went to the coffeeshop to draw my comics page like every other afternoon he was here. He seems to have realized that wasn't my intention when he called his wife, and I had already called to see if he'd mentioned what hotel he'd booked into. Jeesh.
I mean really... any time he tells me my tone of voice is bugging him I am supposed to change it. But any time I tell him his tone of voice is bugging me, or what he says is so defensive and negative or uncalled for, then again it is me who is unable to deal with anyone who doesn't say exactly what I want them to say. No, ANY response other than defensive and attacking would be lovely and acceptable. hell. I hate to put yet another example, but here is the other wonderful sane conversation we had on Saturday... yes, that's right, in less than an hour, two insane conversations that ended up with snide sneering bitching at me about how I' m PERFECT and he's ALWAYS WRONG (yes that would be said in a sarcastic tone):
"So, what's on the agenda for this afternoon?"Um yeah, the depths of anger from MY childhood welling up there. How about the inability to just answer "um, yeah, I want to go but I was wondering if I had time to put in the doorbell before we left" (which is what he wrote in the 9 page fax)... shyster! Like that wouldn't have been a simple explanation for his "hmmph" instead of "oh, so now I'm not enthusiastic enough for you". Can't he see in the smallest way how HE is so totally defensive and jumping at me and THAT starts the fight not me demanding he be a certain way? Ok, I demand he not reply in inflamatory blaming defensive sarcastic manner with that look of sneering disgust and fed up face. I am SOOOO demanding.
So, will I write my father anytime soon? Maybe I'll contact him for Christmas.
By the way, for those wondering how I could be so unforgiving to my father at Thanksgiving no less when he was so lovely and nice to do all that work around the house for me (which in general, yes I appreciate)... please don't ask that. Some guy who walked by (actually rolled by on an electric wheelchair) said that to me today cuz he saw my dad working outside on my stairs on Saturday. Well, my dear dad who helps me out of the goodness of his heart actually gets paid to work, I gave him $600. Considering that at home he gets paid $1200 a month to do the same thing for a 50 plus unit apartment block, $600 and a stay in Montreal seems a pretty good payoff to me.
And I couldn't STOP him from working. He kept suggesting to do things I wanted to pay a contracter specialist to do. When we had a fight I came back and he'd totally sketched out my whole bathroom to scale and was busy deciding how to renovate the whole thing. Hello! that is MY bathroom, not yours. Please do not take over my bathroom. Stop. Now. I realize how much he is like my ex Mr. Black, who "helps" about three times as much as you desire and then gets resentful that you don't appreciate being indebted to him for his generous "help". Ack.
Isn't it boggling to see that every lover you've had is a replicant of your parents?? eek
Well, sorry folks, I wrote a fun entry last night about having coffee and sucking face with extract-guy and biting-girl from the Toronto Kink weekend on Sunday, but my puter froze and ate it. So you missed that and got another "damn, I perused the 9page fax" rant about dear Dad.
But he has improved, and seems to be still trying. I guess that's good.
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Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily