Mum's been gone for the past few days, so it's been an uphill battle staying sane with only my aggressive, nonsensical, closet-narcissist of a father at home. This past week has been all over the [+/-] spectrum and I'm really missing my mom's impartial shoulder. My consolation was meeting Eddie's mother, who must be the most charming, interesting and wonderful woman I've ever met. I was immediately intimidated by her stature and disposition and did everything I could to mask my unrefined, uncultured core. I quickly noticed my background was neither here nor there. I came to this realization and started to feel at ease as the two of us talked over a glass of wine, while Eddie and Dave sat at the same table hitting the bong.
In two hours, I'll be on my way to North Bay with my dad and my aunt for a Gowan concert. I take comfort in the fact that aunt Claire will be with us, because I'm not feeling up to another political/religious/contemporary moral issues debate with a man whose primary arguing tactics consist of mockery, personal attacks, and empty statements. And now I have to go help him outside with the snow machine.
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I enjoyed myself this evening. Before the concert, we stopped at the mall in North Bay and my aunt bought me a charm for my pandora, as a thank-you for letting her borrow my parents for a few months after her husband passed. My dad wasn't impressed (growing up, my parents never let family members give me money or buy me anything), but he let it slide because my aunt lied and told him it only cost her twenty dollars. Larry was as good as he was on the tapes I listened to in the 90s.
I don't know if it's the reminiscent voice, the keyboard skills, the tight pants or the off-the-wall dancing, but I love this man.
It was nice being civil with daddy-o. We're really not the type to bond with words; we do things together. It can be fishing, splitting wood, or going to a concert, but that's how we keep our relationship afloat.We got home sometime around midnight, and my mom was already back. My dad and I had a few beer, and he got right to attacking my atheistic views again. Oh well. Flying Spaghetti Monster, grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change.
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