Friday, July 10, 2009

Shame on you Miss Manners!

Okay, so it's not totally Miss Manners fault, but...  Today, as I was looking for a 5 minute distraction at work, I clicked on her most recent column. 
 There, she suggests that a man take his long-time girlfriend to a restaurant to confess that he's been lying to her for the last four years.   
This sent me reeling.  
Not just because it is incredibly manipulative to take someone to a public place to give them bad news all with the hopes of lessening the force of their wrath, but because my father broke up with me twice at restaurants and has always chosen very public eateries to pick fights and deliver such devastating news that I refuse to eat out alone with him. 
So, to clarify: when I say he "broke up with me," I mean exactly that.  He has asked me to leave him alone, and not be a part of his life twice now.  Once, he did so at a country-steak and pie house where a very concerned grandma-waitress asked me if I needed her help (I was sobbing).  The second time was at at Outback Steakhouse where we were being waited on by an acquaintance from school.  Half way through our meal, the staff just stopped coming to our table, but kept sending worried glances my way from over the booth partition.  You see, Daddy has a way of losing himself in whatever woman he happens to be in love with at the moment.  He sabotages everything else; from his family to his job and friendships, with the hope of creating a perfect life with this "One." Then, as things fall apart, he really starts to grasp for straws.  This usually looks like a new mustang convertible, an earring, a tattoo, or a new wardrobe like his Technicolor Hammer pants in the 90s (my dad is an attorney for a very conservative community council).  And whenever anyone speaks out against his radical transformations, he breaks up with them.  Even if they are a 15-year-old girl who took her dad to dinner to celebrate his birthday.
As you can imagine, when I read Miss Manners advice, I couldn't help but think back to all of times he dragged me out to a restaurant that I have yet to return to from sheer humiliation.  All of the times he hoped to force me into the corner of quiet acceptance because he knows I am loathe to make a scene.  Miss Manners!?!  WTF!?!  I LOVE you, Miss Manners, but...wow.  A public place is not a tool for the Dysfunctional Relationship arsenal.  Keep the out-of-bounds secret fear or regret as your go-to weapon of mass destruction.  Or use the tried and true things-they-can't-help-but-still-count-against-them card to deflect attention from your own faults.  But an intentionally public display love dyslexia is below the belt.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

It is late. About 1 a.m.

I should go to bed.  I have to work tomorrow.  I have to get up two hours before I go to work and shower.  I have to do my hair and make-up.  Iron my clothes and walk my dog.  I really should go to bed... I just can't.
I am watching an infomercial.  No, I'm not.  The TV is playing an infomercial, but I am not actively watching it.  I am suffering from ennui-- an affliction only fatal to Gashlycrumb Tinies.  Thank God.


Hmm.  I should go to bed.

I am surfing the internet and coveting the steam mop for sale on my TV. 

I should go to bed, but now there is a woman named Sholene trying to sell me something called Turbo Jams.  Dunno. 


Alright.  I'm going.  


Right now.  To Bed.

 Any moment...