i have been watching my parent's reaction to A. and me breaking up. they've changed their game plan every week. so far this is what has unfurled:
week 1- absolute complete and total silence. they didn't ask me to clean my room, wash dishes, do a few loads in the laundry, nothing at all. it wasn't even like i couldn't have done those things, they were literally running around in circles doing everything before i got a chance to.
week 2- pretty much the same as week 1 but i just began to ignore them and did the normal cleaning i do at home. i don't really get how not making me clean was going to make me feel better, anyway.
week 3- dad booked me in for a whole day of weeding the garden. i'm serious. after around 4 hours of weeding he came up and informed me that 'weeding is very therapuetic you know.' aha, so now they're making their own therapies for me. it didn't matter though, i spent the whole time thinking about how much A. would have loved to be weeding the garden, in some old clothes and getting all dirty in the sunshine with our duck walking around.
week 3 1/2- mum and dad come home to find me drinking a beer with dinner. ONE BEER. i haven't had any sort of alcohol in i don't even know how long, cos i'm always dancing or working with kids. mum and dad began to question me about the boys i was going to the snow with, along with the comment 'you always drink when you're down.' insane. i drink around 8 standard drink per annum. spent the weekend away thinking how much A. would have loved snowboarding, not drinking and sleeping with guys who until very recently i thought were gay.
week 4- my family... lunch time... eating happily... suddenly dad explains that he's found me a husband, he's known him for a long time, and it's ok because he knows the family too and they're ok. mum turns to him and exclaims 'don't say that to Bee... (i'm thinking whew, he's only joking)... because now she's going to get stressed out when he comes to dinner.' what the hell... instant visions of my big fat greek wedding and disgusting men coming to the house. left the table before i could hear any more, so i'm not really certain if it's true or they were just joking. well, actually i left the table right after yelling that i will never marry an italian man because all italians are sleaze buckets and cheat on their wives. my parents think this is ridiculous because they have never cheated on one another. they're like the only ones.
anyway... bit scared as to what week 5 will bring... i'm trying to go out dancing as much as possible so therefore i won't be able to make the dinners with cheating italian men.
week 1- absolute complete and total silence. they didn't ask me to clean my room, wash dishes, do a few loads in the laundry, nothing at all. it wasn't even like i couldn't have done those things, they were literally running around in circles doing everything before i got a chance to.
week 2- pretty much the same as week 1 but i just began to ignore them and did the normal cleaning i do at home. i don't really get how not making me clean was going to make me feel better, anyway.
week 3- dad booked me in for a whole day of weeding the garden. i'm serious. after around 4 hours of weeding he came up and informed me that 'weeding is very therapuetic you know.' aha, so now they're making their own therapies for me. it didn't matter though, i spent the whole time thinking about how much A. would have loved to be weeding the garden, in some old clothes and getting all dirty in the sunshine with our duck walking around.
week 3 1/2- mum and dad come home to find me drinking a beer with dinner. ONE BEER. i haven't had any sort of alcohol in i don't even know how long, cos i'm always dancing or working with kids. mum and dad began to question me about the boys i was going to the snow with, along with the comment 'you always drink when you're down.' insane. i drink around 8 standard drink per annum. spent the weekend away thinking how much A. would have loved snowboarding, not drinking and sleeping with guys who until very recently i thought were gay.
week 4- my family... lunch time... eating happily... suddenly dad explains that he's found me a husband, he's known him for a long time, and it's ok because he knows the family too and they're ok. mum turns to him and exclaims 'don't say that to Bee... (i'm thinking whew, he's only joking)... because now she's going to get stressed out when he comes to dinner.' what the hell... instant visions of my big fat greek wedding and disgusting men coming to the house. left the table before i could hear any more, so i'm not really certain if it's true or they were just joking. well, actually i left the table right after yelling that i will never marry an italian man because all italians are sleaze buckets and cheat on their wives. my parents think this is ridiculous because they have never cheated on one another. they're like the only ones.
anyway... bit scared as to what week 5 will bring... i'm trying to go out dancing as much as possible so therefore i won't be able to make the dinners with cheating italian men.
the pic above is the kind of northern italian guy our parents are expecting us to marry. the pic below shows what we are picturing...
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