metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Niece and nice My niece called me last night. It always makes me sad to talk to her. She has so many things in her life that she does not like, but she feels unable to do anything about anything. I always feel she is just hanging on by her fingernails to whatever little world she has made for herself. I do not know why I care so deeply about her or love her so much. Maybe I see a lot of myself in her. Maybe I see a lot of my mother in her. I want her to be the sister I never had. Except, I never had a sister. And if I did, I would hope my sister would not be like her. So, that just turned to crap. I do not know why I love her, I just do and I care very deeply for her and want her to be happy and I know she is a very long journey away from happy. Talking to her brings me down. I want to help her, but her problems are so overwhelming and she does not want my suggestions as to how to help her. I guess I can just give her a place to vent about things and fight the urge to make them better for her. This is the advice I give her about her brother, so I guess if it is good enough advice for me to give, it should be good enough advice for me to take, no? I told her it was easier for us to fix other people�s problems than it was to fix our own and she should stop trying to help her brother and start helping herself. This is also good advice for me. Will I take it? Today I am having lunch with my boss and his wife. A more grueling exercise I cannot imagine. I have traveled with them before, and I should write an entry about my interminable journey with them - later. Right now, I am just dreading my lunch hour torture. They are just so nice. That is the problem. They are nice. Nice, nice, nice. All the time nice. And polite, too. Nice and polite. My God, it is enough to kill a person. What is my problem? They are just - too nice. Toooooooooo nice. And polite. Tooooooo polite. So what will happen is: they will ask me where I want to have lunch and I will say I do not care and they will say we don�t care either, and so it will go for about 20 minutes until I just pick a place and we go there. THEN, about 95 minutes of looking at the menu and she will say, �I�m not that hungry. I wonder how big this ____ is?� And then he will say, �Well the _______ sounds good, but I�m not that hungry, either.� And I will say in my head, WELL THEN WHY ARE WE FUCKING EATING? Then the waitperson will come to take our order. They will say to me, you go first. So I order. Then they hem and haw with the waitperson standing there for another of 180 minutes. Ok, so that is about 3 hours of crap even before we eat. Then after the food gets there, its �Oh, I can�t eat all of this� �This is way too much food� etc. So I finish eating and he puts a piece of whatever he is eating on her plate, because he just can�t eat it all. Then she puts a piece of whatever she is eating on his plate, because she just can�t eat it all. Then they both start piling food on my plate because THEY JUST CAN�T EAT ALL THAT FOOD, DAMMIT! It does not matter that I do not want this food. It does not matter that I tell them I do not want this food. I tell them repeatedly, I do not want this food. It is placed on my plate, anyway. I KNOW this is how it will go. I have less than two hours to go before the torture begins. Sigh. I did not go to choir practice last night. I hope God forgives me. I stayed home and watched Judge Mathis. heh I am so verrrrrry glad that Carmen got booted off American Idol. All I can say is it about fucking time. I could not stand her. Could not. 10:24 a.m. - 2003-04-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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