Enough of that

Not that I'm done with whining and feeling insulted! I could do that forever! But it has been determined that only 50% of sisters in law hate my guts. So I'll play half-full for now, and plot revenge for Thanksgiving. Mwa ha ha!

The blue car is a learning experience. We are pretty much learning how to drive all over again. And that is challenging in this town. When I first learned to drive, as a wee lass, the soundtrack went like this:

"Okay, you're a little close on the right side. Okay, now you're a little over the center line. Now turn left. No, LEFT. NO, NOT THERE! THAT'S THE HIGHWAY! STOP THE CAR! I'LL DRIVE HOME!"

But I'm no longer the worst hazard out there. Drivers here deserve all their bad reputations. Now the experience is like this:

"They're not honking at you. Don't worry about that guy. Okay, worry about that guy. Okay, there's a huge SUV trying to cut you off. Just let him. Let him go. No, you watch the road, I'll flip him off for you."

Beyond driving, there's parking, moving the car for street cleaning, and remembering to lock the car without locking the keys in it. Cars! Sheesh!

The extravagant thing we got (more extravagant than a car? what?) is a GPS for the car. We are cursed with very, very poor navigational skills and decided that the only way we could ever do this is with technological assistance. And it is very cool. Very cool indeed. It has a little voice (named dave) that tells you where to go and when to turn and even (this is great for me) which lane to be in. Dave is the best! True that! Double true!

My true calling

Everyone I've talked [complained] to about the recent throw-down drama-fest bitchparty has commiserated about their in-laws. Everyone's in-laws are such cows! What the hell!
Once I remember my mother telling her brother-in-law to put a lifejacket on the baby (we were on a boat.) He told her to fuck off. She is still pissed about it! The baby is in high school!

It's those kind of Classic In-Law Moments that make me think, wow, everyone has these people in their life, and would like to honor that special relationship, but there's very little exploitation of that market.

So, I present to you, Greeting Cards for In-Laws. Look for them in better stores everywhere.

Don't read this

Seriously. I am going to sound like a big baby whiner and a real bitch in about three seconds. So beat it.

I guess I got my comeuppance for posting about my in-laws, the Bickersons. Sister in Law--may I call her Queen of Bossy?--sent an extremely hostile and insulting email (Email: the Choice of Emotional Cowards) all about ME! I can't tell you how flattered and humbled I am to be the star of such a long and windy diatribe, describing my percieved flaws in every detail.
DID YOU KNOW?
I am bossy and controlling (Which is like Stephen Hawking saying, "hey, you're pretty smart!". SUCH AN HONOR.)
I am unpleasant to spend time with. (As unpleasant as listening to someone browbeat a hotel clerk or other service personnel?)
All her friends (SHE HAS FRIENDS?) agree with her on these points. I've never even met them! But I'm famous!
I am probably suffering from bipolar disorder, I am that bitchy. (Doctors, they love to diagnose!)
Our "relationship" is troubled (You know, we really should be bickering more. Eight years of love and devotion is Not Normal.)

And probably some other delightful bits of cheer I am forgetting.

So if you see me stomping southward carrying a sharpened spoon handle, you know where I'm going. And let this be a warning: if you refuse to be bossed by the Queen of Bossy, you will pay the price.

I feel like such a cliche (can't get along with her in-laws), but at least I know I'm in good company.

This weekend we went to cape cod with my sister in law and her husband. They are exhausting. Here are the topics of conversation they enjoy:

1) You made a wrong turn/why didn't you warn me I was making a wrong turn/you're a terrible navigator
2) How many calories/fat calories are in this food item
3) Americans are stupid/fat/lazy/ignorant/diabetic

Nothing puts me off my feed more than hearing how healthy or unhealthy something supposedly is. It saps all the love out of the food for me. The more they talk about sugar and its evils, the more I want to eat ten pounds of frosting off a cupcake shaped like kermit the frog. The more smug they are about watering down their orange juice, the more I want to pour the stuff straight down my gullet.

But then, I am just a stupid, fat, lazy, ignorant American! I don't know any better!

We have nearly almost kind of purchased a car (used! the horror!). I believe it will be in my possession today or tomorrow. Then we can drive our own asses and not have to ride with the Bickersons. And I might eat a cupcake too. So there.