bitter guilt

I am inspired by MNS's Wednesday post to write about my own guilt.

My dad called me yesterday to ask if it was alright that he and my mom come up in a few weeks to visit. Back in December, my mom told me that they were thinking about a visit in late February. It would be right before my birthday and if they came during that time she wouldn't feel guilty about not being able to swing over to the city to see me during their annual July upstate NY trip. As a side info-thingy, the trip upstate is to see my mom's relatives who are fondly referred to as "the Italians" (well... because they are), and every year they stop by the city before or after going to see the Italians to see me and any other relative that's in the vicinity. This year my mom decided not to rush the July trip to upstate. Whatever. Anyway, I expected them to come in February.

Anyway, dad calls yesterday and asks if it's alright that they come up during my birthday weekend. If only I had a sound clip to add to my post. It would be of the sound of crickets because I was silent when he asked that question. As much as I sometimes like to hang out with my parents I don't want to spend my birthday weekend with them. They're fine in small doses, but they like to be really social and can party anyone I know under the table and they visit other relatives (who I'm not close with) when they come to the city when they are supposed to be here to visit me and for some reason I get so anxious around them. I think that I get anxious is because my mom wants certain things for me that I don't want and if I tell her otherwise she gets upset and tells my dad and then my dad and I have words and that causes conflict and drama and I don't like drama (unless I'm acting in one). The best (or worst) part about his phone call was that my mom already booked the tickets to come up here and didn't bother to call to make sure it was alright to come. It's like she's realizing that I'm starting to take a stand for myself against her and she's using guerilla tactics against me to get her way. Damn!

I find it very prophetic that today's word-of-the-day on my "Forgotten English" calendar is "gall of bitterness: the bitterest grief, extreme affliction." Hmmmm.