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Art Colony: ugly pants
Sunday, December 5, 2004
› by victoria

This is the first time I've just felt really good, really happy, and really relieved for a long time.
It's a nice thing. Is it all those little fun things that add up--eating jell-o while wearing an ugly t-shirt and watching the PBS disco music special on TV last night? Teaching b-f how to make crepes this morning? (it was hilarious, he kept on expecting to have to flip them like pancakes, til he figured out that they only need to cook on one side) Was it getting to play the piano today in the UWM Union lobby for 30 minutes when I haven't gotten to play the piano in forever?
Yesterday--in case you were curious as to how the meeting turned out--was a surprise in more ways than one, with meeting my parents and older sister. We all went out to eat at this really fancy french restaurant, one of the better restaurants in Milwaukee (in my humble opinion) and sat down to order. We all got the same thing--croque monsieurs, these delicious toasty ham and cheese sandwiches on a baguette loaf--and I ordered coffee, which came, in traditional french style, with sugar cubes. (LOVE sugar cubes) Then things started to get awkwardish...
SIDENOTE: I sincerely believe that my/bf's lives would be an absolutely hilarious and addictive reality TV show. It would be like the anti-"Newlyweds". I can compare and contrast a bit between my/our life and the TV show.
NEWLYWEDS: low on IQ, rich in cash, their family probably loves them, huge house with lots of expensive furniture, biggest crisis is probably Nick going at some stripper or Jessica breaking a nail while filming "Dukes of Hazzard", have to hire other people to be creative for them
MY/OUR LIFE: rich in IQ, low in cash, my family doesn't like me OR him, medium-to-small apartment with enough furniture except we don't have a table, biggest crises range in size from broken computer disasters to cell-phone-bill-menace, almost too creative for our own good
END OF SIDENOTE
So, back to the restaurant; my older sister and my mom started to gently grill me like a piece of tuna about what I was doing, and where I felt I was going with my life, and describing what my ex-room was like. I'd start crying, then the waitress would come and ask us if everything was alright and I'd be all-red faced and it was almost staged, it was so tension-filled. My dad was terribly nice about everything. The only really awful part of the encounter was when my mother brought up a piece of correspondence from somebody important, which referred to me as a "fad" or a "mistake," that made me really upset. We got dessert, which was lovely, and my v. Catholic mom talked about how distressed she was over me and how she thought I should be going to church. I was crying, they were kind've crying. Then my dad drove me back to my apartment and they dropped me off with a whole bunch of random plastic bags. I gave my mom, dad, and older sister a big hug and waved them goodbye.
Then i lugged the bags inside to the apartment, little knowing what was inside. Two of the big black bags were full of clothes, random clothes (bfriend pointed out that my 17-year-old younger sister probably took all my nice clothes). When we're saying random, random is as in: >neon blue spandex shorts >two hideous pairs of unflattering tapered pants, the ones that make your butt look big no matter how small/medium/big it is >a weird vintage sweater with blue buttons and checkers on it >lots of socks >a t-shirt I made in 1st grade with bumblebees on it >neon green swimsuit >way too big for me brown leather boots >my big Adidas polarfleece coat (yay!) >tons of random socks that I must've forgotten
There are more bags, but i haven't opened them yet. They did give me a big bag of Ramen and instant soup (double-yay, because that's all I eat while at school/work) and i guess seeing them wasn't as bad/"full of doom" as i thought it would be (even though I ended up crying for hours afterwards). I love them very much--
even if it's not always easy.
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