Striving For Mediocrity: Nothing says the love of family like your Grandmother calling you stupid.

The fun thing about my family is… well, nothing. At least not my Mom’s side, anyways, and that’s the side I had to spend my whole freakin’ day with yesterday.

My Grandmother went all out and cooked a fantastic southern meal, which included pulled bbq pork, collard greens, turnips, grits, biscuits, and sweet potato pie.

It was soooo good.

Usually there is some polarizing event that makes me want to move to a mountain in Tibet and never acknowledge any of them again, but yesterday went fairly smoothly.

Until my Grandmother started throwing her two cents in about the Terri Schiavo case. I know better than to get into any kind of serious discussion with any of them, because they will NOT concede that any opinion other than theirs could possibly be valid or relevant. I don’t mind that they disagree, but I hate that they refuse to accept anything else, or even listen to any other argument. They just dismiss my opinion, because it means nothing to them. I have since learned to keep my mouth shut.

My Grandmother said that what they were doing was wrong, and they were killing her, and there was nothing wrong with her as she is now.

I didn’t say anything, until she brought up that she thinks it doesn’t matter what anyone signs, pulling ANY plug is murder. I had to jump in.

I said that when I had my surgery in November, I signed an Advance Directive, stating that I don’t want ANY measures taken to save me if something goes irreparably wrong, because I don’t want to live if I can’t support myself, speak for myself, or have limited or no brain function (it’s bad enough my brain only operates about half the time anyways). My Mother has all the power to end it. And if she can’t (or won’t) make the decision, Kay is the next in line.

Grandma FLIPPED OUT. She looked at my Mom, and told her that if she ever did do that, she would go to hell, and she would be disowned from her and the rest of the family, and never spoken to again. She got so angry with me that I signed it, that she told me she didn’t think she could ever look at me the same way again.

I tried to explain that those were my wishes, but she didn’t care. She said if I was incapacitated in that way, my wishes didn’t matter, and it was up to my family to decide.

See what I mean about feelings other than theirs being irrelevant?

Happy Easter indeed.

Four sex-free months.

Kill me.

As I said in an email this morning, I am certain that I am single-handedly keeping the AA division of Energizer in business.

Tattoo Face has a girlfriend now.

Thank god..

He won’t be looking at me like a piece of meat anymore.

I got in on the whole Dangermix! CD bonanza, thinking that my trivia-riddled brain would have no problem figuring out what the songs were. Boy was I mistaken.

I only knew 11 out of 25.

I suck. I am ashamed to call myself a trivia dork.

But he should be ashamed to call himself a man, since there were TWO Bette Midler songs on it.

Dangerspouse rules.

I am still without work to do. This is what I get for being caught up on my work.

And, finally, much thanks go out to my girl Loopy for using her mad skills and hooking my html-impaired ass up with a suave new template.

Back to mind-numbing boredom.