1. the fact that my mother is constantly following Sambuca around and reporting each and every one of her actions back to me: "She's eating Mia's food!" "She's lying on your bed!" Can you guys just imagine how bad she will be if I ever have a baby she can constantly be watching like this? Please shoot me.
When I said I was going to bring Sambuca over with me for the weekend, Mom had a rather cold reaction, along the lines of: "oh, if you want to, no problem." She's now having so much fun, after I said I had already asked A to keep an eye on Sambuca during my trip to New York City, she said she'd have taken on the catsitter role without a problem.
Did I mention she's gonna be plain scary when I have a baby?
2. my father and his I'm-the-king-of-the-world attitude. He was always like this, but he's getting worse as he's growing older. Now it seems everyone in the world is out to get him and nobody but him is getting screwed over.
3. the closed-mindedness of some people around here. This one is confusing, even to myself - I mean, the Québec-Ontario jokes I hear on a regular basis now don't get to me at all. However, I just hate those Al-Qaida jokes they make about my uncle's girlfriend's (no, that doesn't make her my aunt, not just yet) son, who's currently living in Algier with his father. And I go nuts whenever I hear those who went South for New Year's bitch that the food was horrible and that they just stuffed themselves whenever they found something that wasn't too bad because they never knew whether or not the next meal was gonna be edible. Why does that attitude irritate me so much? I have no clue, but it does nevertheless.
I've really got to find a way to come at peace with this place. Right now, my father is supposed to re-paint my room and I'm hoping that when that's done and I can re-decorate it, at least this room will be some sort of oasis - but I'm doubtful.
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