Good Clean Fightin’.
December 10th, 2001 by Kevin
I really, really, really, really need to calm my bad ass down. I think I’m having some sort of hormonal freak attack, because I have been an emotional wreck the past few nights.Let’s travel back in time, if you’ll indulge me, to Saturday night. (Cue Twilight Zone theme.)
D. was at the grocery store, and I was in the bedroom having a moral crisis. I was looking for something in a backpack and found a half empty pack of cigarettes.
I haven’t smoked in five weeks now, but damn, did I want one of those stale little babies. I sat there and stared at the pack for about a half an hour.
As a disclaimer, just let me say that I’ve been Extremely Stressed. I am talking major emotional turmoil here. Temporarily disabled, potty training kid, company in financial ruin, parents up my butt, newly engaged, chronically sleep-deprived, and slightly weird to begin with.
I thought, “Hell, if I don’t need a cigarette, no one does,” so I started towards the back door.
And then I stopped.
Five weeks. Five weeks of massive headaches, withdrawals, anger, pain, irritation, tears, and finally triumph.
Fuck, no, I wasn’t about to blow it.
So I took the pack back inside and set it down, intending to throw it away. Then, the phone rang, and the person on the other end apparently sucked out my brain.
Guess what happened?
I left the goddamn half-empty pack right there on the dresser for D. to find. This would be the same D. who ALSO quit smoking five weeks ago and is now a Nazi-nonsmoker of the highest rank.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I won’t go into all the boring little details, but a huge fight ensued; and it bore all the terrible accusations and nasty names and angry rants and plot twists that make up a truly memorable couple fight.
We’ve since worked it out, but we’ve both been a bit edgy as a result. Neither of us are good fighters, both of us are stubborn as hell, both of us think we’re always right, and neither of us bounce back quickly.
Not a good equation. One ass plus one ass equals one mess.
So tonight, D. starts talking about Christmas plans. (Yeah - we’ve really thought ahead on that issue, haven’t we?) He wants to go all the way to Our Town, Pennsylvania. Fine. I understand and respect his need to see his family over the holidays. However, I have a few minor problems with this arrangement.
We are DRIVING. It’s an eight-hour drive.We are going from the 22nd until the 25th.
This means that:
A: I will spend Christmas 2001 in a damn SUV for SIXTEEN HOURS.
B: I will not see my family or friends on Christmas Eve OR Christmas Day.
C: I will most certainly be a maudlin, depressed, sobbing wreck by Dec. 26.
My birthday is the 28th, and I am going to still be too pissed off at D. for ruining my Christmas to enjoy it.
My mother is going to have a first-class, Grade A, full-blown STROKE whem she finds out that she will not be seeing her only grandchild OR her only child on Christmas.
J. does not sleep while we’re there, because a damn train roars by every fifteen minutes, shaking the hell out of the house.
Of course, I don’t sleep there, either. But you knew that.
My family may be slightly nutso, but dammit, they’re still my family, and I’d like to see them on Christmas.
I guess I had a perturbed look on my face while I was sitting there thinking about these things, because he immediately blew up on me for not wanting to go to Pennsylvania.
That’s not entirely true. I like Pennsylvania. The town where his parents live reminds me of some mythical little town where people don’t have to lock their doors, and everyone knows everyone else. I grew up on the south side in the ‘hood - how could I not appreciate the novelty of white-bread rural PA?
I like D’s family a lot, too. His brothers and sisters are really warm and friendly people, and his parents are wonderful. They treat J. and I like we’re already part of the family and have been for years. I like visiting them.
Just not for my entire damn Christmas.
I know that this is an impossible situation. I have to go. I would be mean as hell to refuse. I understand that D. and his family are very close, and I respect his wanting to bring J. and I. We’re basically at a big, ugly, hairy, sharp-toothed stalemate.
He stomped off to bed, and I sat here and sulked.
Tomorrow, I’m going to have to plaster on a big, cheesy fake smile and say, “Honey, I can’t WAIT to go to Pennsylvania, ’cause I love you and I want you to be happy.”
Even though it’s one of only three times a year that I see my stepbrothers and stepsister.
Even though I wanted to have a nice Christmas at home with no worries or hassles.
Even though I’m barely sleeping and my nerves are shot.
Even though I don’t want my parents to be upset.
Even though my life is a wreck right now and the very last thing I want to do is travel during the holidays.
I’m going to have to suck it up and be merry and jolly.
Bah humbug.
Melissa wrote on 07/11/06 at 9:18 pm :
Dude, I have no idea why I am compelled to read the blogs of the past, but I must say that you can see it from space that you shouldn’t marry this dude!