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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no subject
Date: 2006-11-16 05:24 pm (UTC)Okay, maybe not. I already have my share of annoying relatives.