Jan. 9th, 2007 02:59 pm
Letter from home & Neighbourly re-Porting
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muckefuckSo a family member just wrote asking for advice for dealing with a cousin of mine. Seems she heard through the family grapevine that he may have been offended by the Christmas gift she gave his daughter and she's wondering whether she should write him to explain, wait for it to blow over, or what.
My reaction is that said cousin is a total douchebag who misled me constantly back when I tried to reach out to him, who told me our conversations were confidential while at the same time sharing them with his crazy mother, who got me to open up about my sexuality and, in return, blatantly lied about his, and I could give a flying fuck about what he thinks about the goddamn dolls his daughter got for Christmas.
Then I did my best to translate this all into nicey-nicey talk so as not to upset the more delicate-natured enquirer, meanwhile thanking my lucky stars that I have as little to do with my mom's family--who are such dysfunctional communicators that they make Fisher family of fictional funeral home fame look fully-actualised by comparison--as I can get away with.
In happier news, I found myself with a large tray of marzipan sweets which I really, really shouldn't eat all myself (they were intended to one of the Epiphany parties that I failed to show at) so I decided to share them with a neighbour, who--alas!--does not care for marzipan. But she was so touched by the gesture she gave me a bottle of port that she got as a gift and opened thinking it was red wine. Wow, talk about nasty surprises! I'll have to come up with a nice bottle of Rioja to reward her with down the line.
My reaction is that said cousin is a total douchebag who misled me constantly back when I tried to reach out to him, who told me our conversations were confidential while at the same time sharing them with his crazy mother, who got me to open up about my sexuality and, in return, blatantly lied about his, and I could give a flying fuck about what he thinks about the goddamn dolls his daughter got for Christmas.
Then I did my best to translate this all into nicey-nicey talk so as not to upset the more delicate-natured enquirer, meanwhile thanking my lucky stars that I have as little to do with my mom's family--who are such dysfunctional communicators that they make Fisher family of fictional funeral home fame look fully-actualised by comparison--as I can get away with.
In happier news, I found myself with a large tray of marzipan sweets which I really, really shouldn't eat all myself (they were intended to one of the Epiphany parties that I failed to show at) so I decided to share them with a neighbour, who--alas!--does not care for marzipan. But she was so touched by the gesture she gave me a bottle of port that she got as a gift and opened thinking it was red wine. Wow, talk about nasty surprises! I'll have to come up with a nice bottle of Rioja to reward her with down the line.
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