Thanks Mom, Part III

I wanted to GOTO Chi-Chi’s. So we went. The Manager was there again and greeted us. She better know who I am by now, at least by face recognition. She knows Kivudet’s family. She’s seen me with my gang in there. And with my family. Wow, has it really been that long since I’ve seen Wendi?… Year… Um, tangent. We got a one of the nice round booths near the door. Well, more near the little girl’s room than anything else. : P

Mom and I talked, which is really what I wanted more than anything. Around the condo, I’m usually in my room. I eat my by myself because it’s more convenient. I suppose Mom and I only talk when we’re going out doing things. Like eating. Food brings people together. *smiles* What did we talk about… Yeah, she mentioned her quarrels with Dad. I remember she got home early and she let me know that she was home. She looked upset. Frankly, the reason I didn’t ask at the time was because I was afraid she had immediately gotten some really horrible news. Thankfully, it was just Dad being an ass.

Apparently, my dad is more than Scottish. (I mean in financial terms, not ethnicity.) My dad is INDIAN. I should start telling people that. Geez. I’m cheap, but not THAT cheap. Come one, man, you’ve been married how long? You’ve got the money to throw around. And you spend ten dollars at fucking Burger King? If you don’t want to spend the money, then don’t go out to eat. I don’t have a lot of money, but when I go out to eat, I at least enjoy myself. Isn’t that the goal? To get a better meal than you would have if you stayed home. Where’s the motivation in eating out if you’re CONSTANTLY TRYING TO SAVE MONEY.

Oh man, I can not get this. My Mom gave him a check for seven thousand or something to pay for my college bill. Apparently, he didn’t want to dip into the *drumroll* COLLEGE FUND. Why? Does the college fund get a better interest rate? God damn, mom could buy a fucking new computer with that money. A couple, in face. It’s a pity I don’t use that old computer anymore. I tell you, the next time Dell does one of their promotions, I’m going to start bitching about the old computer, just for the heck of it. Dad doesn’t listen to Mom when she tells him things. Prices have gone down. I told them to wait on the last promotion. Why? Because I know computers. The specs of the next computer they get will be such that they won’t need a new one for a decade. Do keep in mind that I intend to keep Lisa Electron for the next decade. (Nevermind the occasional motherboard upgrade. *smiles*)

I told Mom to remind me to not be cheap when I get older. *nods*

I randomly said, “I wonder how I’ll be when I’m a father.” As if I was expecting something else, she told me that I’ll be a great father. I mentioned how every female friend I’ve ever had has had a very high opinion of me. Good boyfriend I’ll be, they say. Good father I’ll be, they say. My Aunt Gita thinks I’m hot shit with girls. *laughs* I’m serious. She thinks girls swoon over me or something. Only on Open Diary, man. *laughs*

Mom told me she knows I’ll be a good father because she raised me right. *smirks* She said she gave me a conscience. My reaction was something to the effect of, “You sure as hell did!” I asked, “How did you do it?” She said she taught me the difference between right and wrong. *smirks* She said she learned it from her mom.

Grandma. If you ask me what influence my mom’s mom had on me, I’d tell you she’d be the one that gave me common sense, so to speak. It’s kinda funny. My mom’s mom hated Bill Clinton. Now, my Dad’s mom said prayers for Bill Clinton. Funny as HELL, I tell you. Anyway, my Grandma. She’s cool. *nods* My Grandma is cooler than your Grandma. No, I can guarentee you. My Grandma had a Nintendo before I did. *laughs* I remember playing on my Uncles old Commodore 64. I had a high score on that motorcycle game.

So. Let’s review my major family influences. My mom’s mom. My Grandma rules. Love her. I love my Grandpa, too, but I learned from Grandma and my Mom to ignore him most of the time. It’s not necessarily that he’s going senile, it’s more that he’s stuck in his ways. The world is such as it is in his mind and that’s the way it’s going to be. My Grandma really layed into Grandpa about my hair. As in, keep his mouth shut. I can’t remember the last time he teased me about it.

Oh, and my mom’s side of the family is NRA Republican. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate people based on their political leanings. I haven’t heard what my Grandma thinks of Bush, but frankly, I don’t really care. If Grandma’s smart, she’ll recognize that Bush is just doing what Clinton did. “Oh, he’s going to save the world!” That’s what she said of Clinton. Though, it’s to be seen. As for guns.. well. Guns scare me. They’re used to kill things! Poor Brenda (dog, now .. no longer with us *frowns*) hated guns. She’s always hide in the house when she heard gunshots.

My mom. It’s like I told Poptart today, my mom was my best friend when I was little. Then I went through that “parents aren’t cool” phase. Dad? Oh sure, I went through that childhood admiration of their father phase. I realized he didn’t seem to care about spending time with me so I stopped. And then he realized, “Oh wait, I have kids and they’ve grown up. Oops. I’ll start treating them like they have no brains and give a shit about meaningless things in an effort to show I care.” Okay, Okay, I’m overdoing it. But, come on. He used to tell me and Wendi to put a coat on. When I was in HIGH SCHOOL. What the fuck? If we want to freeze our ass off, that’s our choice.

And of course Wendi. My big sis. If it weren’t for Gita looking like Wendi, I’d wonder whether Dad was really our.. dad. *laughs* Mom’s a good girl, she’d never cheat. Never, ever, that’s not mom. Wendi and I look like sisters. I mean, brother and sister. *smirks* Anybody that’s seen pictures can attest to this.

Right before I was going to start this entry, I got a knock on the door. Dad, as predicted. He said he shouldn’t have yelled at me. I said that I was sorry and that I antagonized him. We shook hands. That was that. That’s the way it is in this family. We talk. I’m pretty lucky to have this family. I recognize that, even if I take it for granted every now and then. As much as Mom is a Christian, she taught me to think for myself. She told me she knew I’d have to be out on my own, so she taught me to stand up for myself. It was a trivial argument with dad, but it’s just how I am. Gotta throw myself out there. Mom knew I wasn’t serious. Whatever. Even if I’m wrong, I’ll argue to the death. Unless I see that I’m wrong, then I’ll meekly go, “Oh. Whoops. Wow, I was really wrong there.”

Mom’s right, she raised me right.