i think there is a little thing inside my head that takes what should be good and makes it feel bad to me. Or makes me feel guilty or embarrassed by it.
Tonight was dinner with my family and since this week is my birthday we went out to Chili's for dinner. We place our orders and i say to the waitress that i want the Mushroom Jack Fajitas but no green stuff and no pico. She says this back to me, "so, no guac, peppers, lettuce or pico? Just meat, onions, mushrooms, cheese and sour cream?" i replied to the affirmative and specified, "And could you tell them to really get the onions well done? Thanks!" She went on with the other orders.
my dinner comes out EXACTLY like the menu states. She immediately sees the little plate and runs off with that, but doesn't get the skillet until she comes back. She runs off with a reiteration of, "NO GREEN - especially the PEPPERS!".
My dinner comes back loaded sky high with beautiful mushrooms and loads of cheese and the onions are green . . . GREEN! NO! PEPPERS!!!!!!!!!!!! AARRRRRRGGGGGGGG! i was ready to cry at this point. I was trying to get the waitress back so i could tell her to just drop it and take it off the order, but Angel got t o her first and she finally brought me out a little skillet with four mushrooms total and the rest of stuff i like. i managed to choke down two fajitas but i still feel like getting sick.
i have a several emotional issue with birthdays and they depress me. No, they are not the normal issues. i'm 28. So what? It's all the people who used to make any day good who are gone now that i miss most on special occasions. i dread the coming day as if it was my last. My soul is raw and bleeding on days like this. Especially when their absence serves only to uncover my actual family's misunderstanding of me and inability to actually listen to me. i try so hard to show them i see and understand who they are and what they like and they give me cookbooks and pedicures, makeup and perfume.
Yes, i *do* like to cook, but i have a miniscule kitchen and no room to move it it. We don't eat at home. i get off work at 6:30 PM and take a 45 min drive at the least home and don't want to cook.
i guess i sound ungrateful and horrid. i really don't mean to. i try hard not to make them feel bad though every holiday or gathering seems only to pick the scab off the wounds left from the last one and i never get to heal.
i just want to move far far away from my family and see them on rare visits when we can be happy to see each other come and glad to see each other leave. i think this is a very vital and important part of human anthropology. The need to run away from one's family fostered the spreading of humans across continents and oceans. It is why all really cheap, quick, and convenient forms of long distance travel are suppressed by secret government subsidized agencies.
Another case in point - the one redeeming moment during dinner was hiding in the bathroom singing to the piped in music - they were playing a song i love that i'd not heard since high school:
"Call It Love" ~ Poco
"We've got all night let's take our time
Tell me your secrets, i'll tell you mine
When it makes us feel better - call it love
You say you won't, i say you will
You make me crazy but I want you still
When it makes us feel better - call it love
Do we tell the truth or do we live a lie?
Is the feeling good is that what makes you cry?
When you say those words look me in the eye
Tell me why you call it love
i play my hand, you call my bluff
We push each other 'til we've had enough
When it's all you've got call it love
If i didn't have money would you want me still?
When you look real close do we fit the bill?
Call it what you want but only time will tell . . ."
confessed on Sunday, Sept. 22, 2002