Brakes and drama
Nov. 16th, 2006 09:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
featherynscaleGlory effing hallelujah, I have brakes that work again. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
opaljax came over with tools, and we did stand out in the bitter cold for far longer than one would think, and now I have nice new ceramic pads, and opaljax has a nice bottle of polish vodka, and all is right with the world.
There's behind-the-scenes drama, though, there always is. Mom called yesterday while I was on the way to the auto parts store, and I foolishly divulged that the car was in need of repair, and that I and a friend were going to do said repairs. Mom was wary of this, but willing to allow it to pass. However, Grandma was not. Some time while Jax and I were actually working on the problem last night, Grandma called and left a plaintive message expressing that she would send me money to get my brakes fixed, and that under no circumstances should I, or any other person with a vagina, ever work on a car.
I didn't get the voicemail until this morning, so, dutifully, and also stupidly, I called her to say that the job was already done and she didn't need to worry about it. She informed me that even though it might seem like a simple job, there was no way that it actually could be simple, that I probably only thought it was simple because I couldn't understand it, and in any case I would ruin my health doing these things. She then launched into a twenty minute exhortation to the Lord God of the Israelites to make it so I would have to move back to the Family Homestead where I could be properly taken care of. Creeped me right out.
And she'll probably send me the money anyway. I have made a habit of sending donations in the amount of her gifts to organizations like Planned Parenthood, or HRC, or PFLAG, and that sort of thing. That's probably a violation of some sort of hospitality rule, but it makes me feel a lot better.
opaljax came over with tools, and we did stand out in the bitter cold for far longer than one would think, and now I have nice new ceramic pads, and opaljax has a nice bottle of polish vodka, and all is right with the world.There's behind-the-scenes drama, though, there always is. Mom called yesterday while I was on the way to the auto parts store, and I foolishly divulged that the car was in need of repair, and that I and a friend were going to do said repairs. Mom was wary of this, but willing to allow it to pass. However, Grandma was not. Some time while Jax and I were actually working on the problem last night, Grandma called and left a plaintive message expressing that she would send me money to get my brakes fixed, and that under no circumstances should I, or any other person with a vagina, ever work on a car.
I didn't get the voicemail until this morning, so, dutifully, and also stupidly, I called her to say that the job was already done and she didn't need to worry about it. She informed me that even though it might seem like a simple job, there was no way that it actually could be simple, that I probably only thought it was simple because I couldn't understand it, and in any case I would ruin my health doing these things. She then launched into a twenty minute exhortation to the Lord God of the Israelites to make it so I would have to move back to the Family Homestead where I could be properly taken care of. Creeped me right out.
And she'll probably send me the money anyway. I have made a habit of sending donations in the amount of her gifts to organizations like Planned Parenthood, or HRC, or PFLAG, and that sort of thing. That's probably a violation of some sort of hospitality rule, but it makes me feel a lot better.
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Date: 2006-11-16 03:59 pm (UTC)Yeah.
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Date: 2006-11-16 04:04 pm (UTC)(Worst thing is, my great-grandmother went the same kind of crazy in her declining years, all "oh Jesus, oh Lord, Lord's gonna do His work" all the time. I'm watching Mom really close as she gets older. If this is some sort of genetic thing, and I'm gonna be sitting in my rocking chair at 75 raising my hands and praising Eris every seventeen seconds... I don't know what I might do.)
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Date: 2006-11-16 04:08 pm (UTC)I can truly say it may be the medicine talking... this was probably funnier than it should be were I not medicated... :-)
HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! And you are right about the Springer effect. I wonder also if it has to do with the fact that your fam is in FL.
I am interested to see what shakes out at Thanksgiving this year after coming out to Mother. I don't know who she has or hasn't told...
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Date: 2006-11-16 04:13 pm (UTC)Also, your Thanksgiving sounds like it could be pretty exciting.
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Date: 2006-11-16 04:36 pm (UTC)The Troll, aka Grandma, has not yet gotten to this stage of evangelism but it doesn't appear far off. My mother's family is like that. They have been trying to convert mother for years. She finally got my Grandfather to step in and get them to leave mother alone. They are the only Catholics left of the family (even though they all grew up Catholic, mother is the only child who stayed with it).
Grandma didn't start Catholic, converted then left after she and a priest disagreed about (of all things) D&D. He said there was nothing wrong with it and had even played with the High School students that the Troll was teaching and she didn't like that at all. After she left, it was really the go ahead for the rest of the kids to leave the church and go somewhere else.
So where did they go? Non-denominational Zionist churches... hehehehehe too fun.