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put 'em on the bus
Mar. 14th, 2011 02:01 amMany times I have thought to myself that I would love to have an entire friggin' sheet cake brought home with me after a party. But I never really thought that through when it was a massive one meant for fifty or so people. The logistics of storage for something like that in this house involve a lot of praying that the dog is smart enough to realize that the toaster falling on her nose would be enough of a deterrent to her nosing around. (So far so good in that regard.)
Dad's memorial was Saturday afternoon. It was definitely strange to have the doorbell ring and not recognize my godfather until he started to speak. His voice is very distinctive, so while my inability to really remember a face reared its ugly head, at least I know my ears and deductive reasoning skills still work. Also strange was how many of my brother's friends showed up. I know that the memorial is for the living, but I couldn't help but see the irony in the situation. My father disliked quite a few of these people, threw half of them out of the house, or Seriously Disapproved of their influence on the boy's lifestyle choices. So while they were there for the boy, I had to rely on Ari and Derrick. Who bailed an hour and a half into it. I can't really say I blame them. I'd have probably left if I could have.
While people remembered to pray it wouldn't rain, no one thought to hope it wouldn't be colder than most would expect of a day that was supposed to hit 70, and also the gnats. It was fun alternating shivering from the cold and swatting bugs. Oi.
If you've missed the flaming memos, I should remind you that I am not a people person. I'm torn between loathing people in general and giving the general population the benefit of the doubt. (Yes. I'd like to know how to reconcile these two differing thoughts.) I lack the social graces that most people have or at least can fake well enough to get by for an afternoon surrounded by people. This is before you even begin to take into consideration the fact that the 'party' as Widget kept calling it was due to my father's death. Anyway, I hadn't met the woman who offered use of her yard for the shindig before. Well, actually, I think I did, maybe a few years after we moved in. Dad and I were gardening (I was doing hard labor and he was supervising.) and they discussed roses, I think. But I do not believe she remembers this interaction and I'm not 100% positive because you might recall that I mentioned I can't really remember faces that well. ANYWAY.
So I finally meet this woman and I'm thanking her for being kind enough to offer use of her yard and her home and she sort of cuts me off and says, "You do realize I'm doing this for Widget, right?" She's not exactly rude about the cutting me off, but it's also not exactly like she waited for me to finish whatever I was saying, either. Which is fair enough. But it's the way she said it and it's kind of irked me the entire rest of the weekend. Irked isn't exactly the right word either. I felt immediately super out of place and the feeling hasn't gone away. I don't know if it was just me being overly sensitive or if she meant it the way I took it, and it's not like I can ask anyone because honestly, it shouldn't even register, right?
But I can't really look at most of the food that was brought over afterward because I keep reliving that tiny snippet of conversation over and over whenever I do. Which you would think would be an excellent diet aid, but not really. I suppose it's easier to obsess over that rather than the matter at hand. But it's okay, because I can multitask with the worry and guilt.
(Guilt: Time change last night. The boy arranged to have people meet up for breakfast Sunday morning. Aunt and Uncle who had been in town for a week had to leave early for whatever reason, so my brother canceled with the other aunt and cousins. He didn't know Mums had talked my godfather into coming after all. Suspect, very highly, that he went to breakfast and no one else came. Since he seemed to be taking Dad's death the hardest, feel super guilty about not being awake as early as I thought I was. If it had actually been 6:37, this would not have been a problem.)
It had its moments. Was properly amused/touched at Widget demanding to speak (should've bet someone that he was going to. Would have been easy money.) and then needing to be cut off because otherwise we'd probably all still be there.
Plus side, cake. Lots of it.
Dad's memorial was Saturday afternoon. It was definitely strange to have the doorbell ring and not recognize my godfather until he started to speak. His voice is very distinctive, so while my inability to really remember a face reared its ugly head, at least I know my ears and deductive reasoning skills still work. Also strange was how many of my brother's friends showed up. I know that the memorial is for the living, but I couldn't help but see the irony in the situation. My father disliked quite a few of these people, threw half of them out of the house, or Seriously Disapproved of their influence on the boy's lifestyle choices. So while they were there for the boy, I had to rely on Ari and Derrick. Who bailed an hour and a half into it. I can't really say I blame them. I'd have probably left if I could have.
While people remembered to pray it wouldn't rain, no one thought to hope it wouldn't be colder than most would expect of a day that was supposed to hit 70, and also the gnats. It was fun alternating shivering from the cold and swatting bugs. Oi.
If you've missed the flaming memos, I should remind you that I am not a people person. I'm torn between loathing people in general and giving the general population the benefit of the doubt. (Yes. I'd like to know how to reconcile these two differing thoughts.) I lack the social graces that most people have or at least can fake well enough to get by for an afternoon surrounded by people. This is before you even begin to take into consideration the fact that the 'party' as Widget kept calling it was due to my father's death. Anyway, I hadn't met the woman who offered use of her yard for the shindig before. Well, actually, I think I did, maybe a few years after we moved in. Dad and I were gardening (I was doing hard labor and he was supervising.) and they discussed roses, I think. But I do not believe she remembers this interaction and I'm not 100% positive because you might recall that I mentioned I can't really remember faces that well. ANYWAY.
So I finally meet this woman and I'm thanking her for being kind enough to offer use of her yard and her home and she sort of cuts me off and says, "You do realize I'm doing this for Widget, right?" She's not exactly rude about the cutting me off, but it's also not exactly like she waited for me to finish whatever I was saying, either. Which is fair enough. But it's the way she said it and it's kind of irked me the entire rest of the weekend. Irked isn't exactly the right word either. I felt immediately super out of place and the feeling hasn't gone away. I don't know if it was just me being overly sensitive or if she meant it the way I took it, and it's not like I can ask anyone because honestly, it shouldn't even register, right?
But I can't really look at most of the food that was brought over afterward because I keep reliving that tiny snippet of conversation over and over whenever I do. Which you would think would be an excellent diet aid, but not really. I suppose it's easier to obsess over that rather than the matter at hand. But it's okay, because I can multitask with the worry and guilt.
(Guilt: Time change last night. The boy arranged to have people meet up for breakfast Sunday morning. Aunt and Uncle who had been in town for a week had to leave early for whatever reason, so my brother canceled with the other aunt and cousins. He didn't know Mums had talked my godfather into coming after all. Suspect, very highly, that he went to breakfast and no one else came. Since he seemed to be taking Dad's death the hardest, feel super guilty about not being awake as early as I thought I was. If it had actually been 6:37, this would not have been a problem.)
It had its moments. Was properly amused/touched at Widget demanding to speak (should've bet someone that he was going to. Would have been easy money.) and then needing to be cut off because otherwise we'd probably all still be there.
Plus side, cake. Lots of it.
