Ever watch The Family Guy?
No?
Ok, well there's a segment in a few episodes that is called:
That really grinds my gears.
Peter Griffin essentially explaining what pisses him off.
Today, it is not that ball-chinned moron. Today's segment of What Really Grinds My Gears has been brought to you by MY FAMILY.
With limited commercial interruption by Nestle Semi-Sweet chocolate chips and The Napa Valley red wine growers.
There will be chocolate fingerprints on my keyboard, and a red wine stain on my Ernie Ball shirt after this, Count on it.
Oh shutup...I'm allowed a snack.
So, before I start, I will preface by saying...I love my family. I love them all dearly. They sometimes make me crazy. (today) and sometimes make me want to choke them (today) and sometimes kick them-hard (today) and maybe poke them with a sharp stick (today)
Ok, Not ALL of my family...but a select few.
You know that meme that circulates around Facebook occasionally that says: would you punch your (insert family member here) in the face- for a million dollars?
Today, I would do that shit for free. I'M JUST SAYIN.
I am not going into the entire drama...just um...the round about, I guess.
Miscommunications are fun. Said no one ever.
I don't get how you take a seemingly innocent attempt to smoothly plan and coordinate a twice-yearly family get together and turn it into a complete a total cluster-fuck of epic proportion.
Wait...I'll tell you how.
The family drama queen misunderstands, and miscommunicates, and misconstrues, and sticks her head squarely up her ass and fails to read a clearly written and overly verbose (for a reason) explanation and instead, flies off the handle and runs to every other family member and miscommunicates the wrong information to them, in turn...which then makes everyone confused, or angry-at ME.
Me.
Innocent and sweet me.
Stop laughing.
Do you know what terrible, horrible, miscreant, evil I enacted to create this acid rain of pure excrement?
What massively abhorrent deed I played out to stand at the end of that hate-gun???
I'm bowing my head in shame as I tell you...I have been a very bad girl, indeed.
I'll tell you.
I put up an invite on Facebook for a family get together to talk about these twice a year parties and if we want to make changes to them in any way...or leave things the same, and have a little mini party with dinner and drinks at said meeting and have some family fun.
The shame!
How DARE I???
How dare I attempt to usurp power from the family elders???
How dare I try to make things more seamless and easy???
How DARE I take any initiative to make things...better!
Shock and awe!
(This is Dave Grohl, btw)
I like seasonings. But salt is bad for you, people.
Or didn't you know that?
Look, I am an event planner. I do this professionally for a few bucks a year (very few, sadly) but I do know a bit about it.
I also love to have parties. Some of you who read have been to my epic yearly Halloween party or my insane Superbowl party.
Sadly...my casa is not big enough to host my family for a party-so we typically have it elsewhere.
But, regardless-I have always been the organizer since my mom passed.
I make the invites, make the calls, do the reminders, make some food. Help the actual hosts ready their houses and yards to accommodate, and have even hired paid entertainment a few years past...that I paid for out of pocket. I actually LIKE doing these things. I chose to do it for a career...why not lend my expertise to the family a little? I don't take anything over, I just humbly offer my help, my assistance in any way. Because I want it to go easier so we all have a great time and a great experience every year, and have fun.
When my mom passed away, she made me promise to do whatever I could to keep the parties going. Keep the family together.
And I was a shitty daughter (this for another post) so I am keeping this fucking promise. If there is nothing else in the world I can do to make her proud or happy from the Goddamned afterlife-this is my contribution.
So I do the things.
The things that make life easier for each host.
This year that included this meeting. There was buzz that some people wanted changes, so in an effort to make sure that the entire family was on board with changes, OR NOT...Meeting planned.
But there is always that one person.
Every family has one.
Every family has ONE drama queen, ONE drunk Uncle, ONE slow learner, ONE druggie, ONE asshole who always says the wrong thing at the wrong time, ONE busybody, ONE goody two shoes, ONE complete idiot, ONE shit-stirrer, and a Partridge in a fucking pear tree.
The drama queen was the culprit this time-bordering on shit stirrer.
She who stirs the pot should have to lick the spoon, as they say.
Before you ask...I'm the smart ass in the family. I didn't list it because I am sure you already knew which one I was. Duh.
Now, to be crystal clear- I still, very much, love the drama queen.
She's has a good heart. She misplaces it sometimes, but when she finds it...it's as big as a saucer.
But, damnit...
Family Dynamics are just the worst.
And seriously, I am not one of those people who dread, loathe, or avoid being around their family. As a matter of fact, I typically look forward to it unless there's a death or illness. We're all pretty close knit.
I genuinely like my family. Even the drunk uncle. He's drunk...but he's entertaining if nothing else. But the thing is, no matter what...he's my family.
And there is absolutely nothing more important in my eyes than family...ever.
It's your roots, period.
So when shit tumbles squarely downhill and directly into your cake hole, and you sit there gagging and choking on it...sometimes is can be hard to appreciate what you have.
But, really... it doesn't have to be complicated at all...it just needs to be like fine wine...better with age. Better mature. Better all grown up. OLD VINES.
I'm SICK of drinking two buck-chuck, for the love of God.
I hate drinking Arbor fucking Mist!
I demand a more palatable finish. Butter, please!
I just have to wonder when we all figure that shit out?
Frustrated doesn't cover it.
Being the bad girl isn't always a good thing you know. This isn't the good brand of that particular adjective.
Damnit.
Cleaning the shit off my face, but eating chocolate and hoping like hell I don't get them mixed up.
I moved out of the trailer park years ago.
XOXO,
(muhahahahahahahahahaha-maniacal laughter and hand wringing)
Your pal-Lucifer.
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