This has been eating at me for some time. And since it's seriously eating up all of my insides, I thought I'd spew some of the nastiness onto you guys and perhaps protect, let's say, my liver, which I need to filter all of the margaritas I am drinking as a result.
I once joked to Jenny from the Blog about a hippie soap maker that didn't make it to the second day of a fiber fest, saying, "Someone must have hurt his feelings, so he went home to journal through it." Well, I'm sorry I poked fun at him, because that's what I am doing here.
We got a new house. If that's news to you, you have probably never visited this blog because that's all I have written about. Obviously, we're excited. I haven't been this excited since I stockpiled four tins of butter cookies last Christmas.
Our friends are perhaps as excited as we are, which is awesome. Isn't it great to be truly happy for someone else? Seriously, our chosen family rocks. . . to quote Edwin McCain, "I could not ask for more."
Well, our families, namely my family, can't seem to bring themselves to show any joy or support. They can't even register an expression. It's like their "support function" wasn't installed at the factory. When my dad toured the house for the first time, when I asked what he thought; he responded, "It's fine." Upon his second visit, he said, "What's that musty smell? Must be your litter box?*"
When they came by to see our new couch, chair and ottoman, I asked my mom what she thought, "It's fine." On a previous visit her only comment was, "It won't be a home until you hang stuff on the wall." Well, until then it's going to be a Dairy Queen.
And what I want to know is how can it be so hard to just say something nice, particularly when you are clearly given the opportunity. Is it that hard? Is the house that awful?
*My dad is a three-pack a day smoker, he hasn't smelled anything since 1974; and being as I follow my friends around the house asking, "Can you smell the litter box? Seriously, can you smell it?" To which they reply, "No and if you ask me again, I am going to stick my head inside of it and give you a 'yes'."
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Fine
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8 comments:
Since your house isn't a house yet and is a Dairy Queen for now I want the Chocolate Xtreme blizzard. Can't wait to see the new furniture.
I think I know what she is wanting hung on the wall. Possible in living room with a shrine of candles around. :)
Is that kitty litter or kitty fur I smell burning?????
That sucks. It's very difficult when family isn't supportive. And no, the house isn't that awful, they're just that ugly (at least with regard to this).
I, for one, would love to see your new place. I'd even bring baked goods... and candles for you to burn to cover the non-existent cat box smell.
lawsie mercy, well, it took us 2 years before we put anything on our walls. Tell her you like clean lines and are going for the minimalist look.
Never apologize for journaling thru something. :) You have a legit issue...those soap hippies were just flaky.
Home is where you, your sweetie, and your kitties are and it doesn't matter what is on the walls. Hell, it really doesn't even matter if you have walls. (Though they do come in handy in poopy weather.)
PS: It would be kind of awesome if your house was a DQ though. Just sayin'. I'll take an Xtreme Chocolate Blizzard too :)
I'm so sorry. You know they're just like that and it wouldn't matter what you did or where you are, it's just them. Jill's right, they're just being ugly.
I would love to come ooh and ahh over your I'm sure lovely new home. And it IS a home, your home. Be so proud and so glad for yourself...like all of us are for you.
It's sad to see that some people's joy is no joy.
I agree with Pilot about what's waiting to be hung. You should also get one of those picture spotlights to hang over it.
Geeeeeeez, I've seen it and it's a wonderful home.
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