captain_sam

A few days ago I was trying to explain to a friend why I find the upcoming children's movie Mars Needs Moms problematic. As far as I can tell, the entire premise of the movie is that aliens from Mars are abducting moms from Earth to raise their own children. In the previews and commercials, the protagonist asks the aliens where he can find his mother and tells them, you know, she's the one who vacuums. I mentioned that if I were a dad, I would be kind of pissed off. He dismissed my concerns, asserting that he didn't think dads really cared about that stuff. I declined to mention all those crazed "men's rights" groups that seem to be made up of angry single dads. I tried to point out that

1) It establishes the mother as responsible for household work and child care
2) It neglects the role of the father

He just thought it was a dumb kids' movie that hit the Uncanny Valley too hard. But the commercials are ramping up as the movie approaches its release date and every time I see it, it pisses me the fuck off. It plays into a system that not only relegates women to a domestic role but trivializes mens' parental contribution. Anti-feminism hurts men too, but apparently I'm bumming people out so I should just shut up and enjoy the movie. Ugh.

I'm turning into the dad from Calvin & Hobbes. Today I got home from work and thought gleefully, "There's nothing like a brisk 2-mile walk in 18-degree weather to get the blood pumping!" I'm a little sad that I'm more Calvin's dad than Calvin now. I think. I still talk to and wrestle with my cat.

Little things keep life bearable, you know?

Today I went out with my father for office supplies. While I was getting ready, I put a black comb in my back pocket because I had to run downstairs for something; I eventually forgot the comb was there. Also, I got a really nice leather jacket for Christmas, the kind that you see lady cops on TV wearing. So I put on this jacket and went boldly forth to Office Depot and when I reached for my wallet, realized the comb was still there. Apparently I'd been wandering around town looking like an Asian wannabe street-greaser. It nearly made me laugh out loud in between the Post-Its and the printer paper.

Oh god, it's so obvious my parents only tolerate each other out of long familiarity, and that they're coasting along because they just can't bother to get divorced. I wish they would get divorced. I think they'd both be happier, in their heart of hearts, and I'd certainly be happier not having to tip-toe around hoping that my father isn't in the mood to yell (literally) at me, or that my mother isn't in the mood to sob out more of our family history. I'd be happier not dreading Christmas every year, a time that is traditionally about love, giving, and happiness. I only know that because I've been told it's so, but I don't think I've had a single truly happy Christmas, knowing that the least thing could destroy the fragile balance between me and my parents.

Maybe I should just enlist; I could theoretically do that, you know, and not get kicked out for my homogayness. I wish I could tell my parents that I would rather risk death half a world away than spend another Christmas with them.

Tonight, approximately 6:30PM eastern:

My father: Mom has been sick, but she's fine. I mean, her eyes are open and she's breathing.

My mother, in the background: hysterical laughter

Me, to myself: Omg what is my family, I can't even...

This concludes tonight's interlude.

When you try to log in to your computer and it tells you your password is incorrect, do you assume:

1) Oh, I must've entered it incorrectly

2) OH SHIT THE CAT CHANGED IT WHILE I WAS GONE

If you assumed #1, congratulations, you are a normal, logical human being. If you assume #2, perhaps you are very tired and cold and need more vitamins in your diet.

This is the level of subconscious animosity I hold towards my father, apparently.

I normally work with a dual monitor setup. But last night I dreamt that my father had randomly removed one of my monitors and fucked up the other. I kept asking him why, why did you do this, what on earth. The keyboard was fucked up too, missing keys at random. In the dream I was half shocked and half on the verge of tears, and no matter how much I asked or how upset I got, he kept shrugging me off in a dull, lumbering kind of way.

And within the dream, I wasn't that surprised at all. It was the kind of thing he'd do, thinking it was better for me without asking. I was so frustrated that I literally woke up throwing a fit, legs kicking and arms flailing. I'm sure it freaked the the cat out.

I don't think anyone who knows me has ever really seen my temper erupt, but they know that I have one. And last night my temper just built and built and built until my tiny little heart couldn't take it anymore. I think this bodes ill for my Christmas visit home.

Damn you insomnia, damn you to HELL.

Yesterday I got 3 hours of sleep, like you do. I got up and went through my day, then went to a friend's Diwali dinner and had a great time. Also, two glasses of wine. I got home before midnight, got into bed, and set my alarm for 8 AM so I could get to my youth soccer game.

I tossed and turned and finally fell asleep around 6 AM.

And didn't set my alarm properly.

And woke up at 11AM.

FUCK. ME. SIDEWAYS.

I really have to see a doctor about this insomnia thing, it's getting out of hand. Like--really? After a day on 3 hours of sleep, plus alcohol with dinner, my body still thought it wouldn't shut down at the right time? This is just...beyond the pale.

Man, sometimes the most random memories strike you. I'm just sitting here, futzing around on a Sunday night, and I suddenly recall a scene from seven years ago.

I was at the airport with my parents, about to leave for college for the first time. I was nervous, but quiet, reading at the gate while I waited to board. And suddenly my father started berating me, asking how I could be so calm when I was leaving home and my parents. At the time I was bewildered into crying, telling him that I was in fact apprehensive and that I was just trying not to vomit emotions everywhere (or something to that effect).

Now I know he was probably pretty apprehensive too, and it makes me angry, because chose to take his anger out on me. He chose to lecture me in the middle of the airport because he was uncomfortable and wanted me to be uncomfortable too.

There are times when I feel like I should think better of my father; he raised me, sheltered me, pretty much paved the way to adulthood. But on the other hand, the raising wasn't so pleasant a lot of the time. I lived in fear of him part of the time, and wanted to fight him at others for the way he treated my mother. It leaves me pretty confused, trying to balance the resentment against this nagging notion that I should forgive and try to take the good over the bad. But the bad was sometimes bad and left me a bit of a mess for a good chunk of years, until I somehow got myself sorted out and (mostly) grew up.

I...really need a drink now.

I took the LSAT again this morning. No more! No matter how badly I might do this time.

The essay question asked you to argue either for a well-qualified but little-known scientist, or a scientist who was not as technically proficient with the issue but who had been a medical correspondent on the national news and written several best-sellers.

I'm afraid I wrote a rather cutthroat essay that was more from the perspective of an advertising exec than a normal human being, but hopefully it will stand me in good stead instead of revealing that I was a business student once upon a time. Although, I kind of did treat jurors like consumers and not citizens performing their patriotic duty. Whatever. I DIDN'T COME HERE TO MAKE FRIENDS, I CAME HERE TO BE #1.