|
|
relatives
|
|
minnesota_chris
|
Instead of visiting my own relatives (who expected me to be there, but didn't actually tell me or invite me) I visited someone elses relatives on Easter. We made the six hour drive from St. Paul Minnesota to North Dakota, watching the hills and trees disappear into endless vistas. We saw the cuteness of the traditional rural life. We talked about the minutiae of everyday life. When I visited her relatives, I tasted the bitterness of her past history, the everyday ego beating that was her youth. Her mother felt that she had to either agree with, or disprove, every topic of conversation (my friend inherited this sorry trait). Everything was a power struggle, played out especially by the women. One woman was about to write a letter for me (from me), signing it with my name! What causes people to act so oddly? On the way back, we debriefed (no, we left our underwear on, you pervs!) and tried to make sense of these pushy people. My friend said it was about power, I said perhaps, but it was definitely the result of an authoritarian culture. Her mom felt she had to be in control. I can't say whether she enjoyed it or not. It certainly made her feel miserable, and made me feel frustrated. But oddly it was also relaxing.
|
030422
|
|
... |
|
thieums
|
My relatives... Always discussing politics, trying to change the world with words. Yet they have never done a thing -- got random jobs, made random kids. My relatives... Always shouting or yelling, because granny had nine kids, they're used to shout at each other simply to make sure they will be heard. My relatives... Family meetings are hell, the worst kind of hell -- the one costumed as paradise. I can't stand the long conversations about nothing, and all the eating, and all the drinking, and all the hypocrisy inside of them -- and of me, for not telling them what I think. I never feel more alone than when I'm among my relatives.
|
050803
|
|
|
what's it to you?
who
go
|
blather
from
|
|