|
current |
2001-12-18 - 9:18 p.m. Okay, here I am after not posting in what feels like forever (phone line dead, busy, etc.) and I am going to do the thing I HATE in other people's diaries and start by talking about a bad dream I had. Bear with me. Last night I had a really bad dream that was about my father. I dreamed that I finally decided to search for him. My mom was sort of involved in the search. I finally found him and guess what? He was dead. It was actually the day of his funeral and we both went and cried. It sucked. I woke up and realized something--I need to find my father before it is too late and I do end up finding out he is dead. So then I fell back asleep and dreamed I called my mom and told her I was ready to find my father and that she needed to write down a list of everything she can remember to help me in my search. Now I'm just feeling torn. I don't know where that dream came from. I don't think about this on a daily basis. The thing with my father is that I don't have one and I never did. When I was younger it didn't bother me. I have the kind of mother that gives way too much of herself and so I have never wanted for anything (except things of monetary value when I was younger and we were poor). Somehow it started to bother me in high school or college. The deal was my mom was 25 and he was younger (22? I forget). They were no longer together when she found out she was pregnant but she wanted nothing more than to have the baby. She told him and he said he wasn't ready to be a father. She said fine, she didn't expect him to. The next year he got married and had a baby (boy or girl, we don't know). So yeah, it bothers me. I was abandoned, then some other kid got my dad just because it was born a year later to a different mother. That's fair. I don't even have a picture of him, and all I ever wanted when I was little was a brother or sister, and I don't have that, but I do (somewhere). So yes, I am a little disgruntled. I want to find these brother(s) and sister(s) I have. I do not want a relationship with him, but I want to at least see a picture or contact him or meet him. I feel it's valid to not feel ready to be a father but I wonder how he feels about it now, whether he has just pushed the thought of me out of his mind or what. Whether his wife knows, whether he ever mentioned me to his kids. Whether at 45+ he would feel differently about me or if he would rather I not contact him. I don't know if I could take that kind of rejection when before it was about an unborn child and now it would be about me, a real 24 year old person. And part of it I think it just about me wanting to prove something like, "HA HA look at me, I turned out really well without you. It didn't matter that you rejected me." Before I didn't take it so personally but now I kind of do and I don't know why that has changed. And sometimes I wonder if why I have/had such messed up relationships with males is that I never had a male around much and never had a male who loved me and didn't know what to expect from them. And maybe that is reading too much into the situation. I would very much like to have a brother or sister, though, even if it came right now, much too late to have the real sibling bond. So these are the questions I am left with. Should I do this--should I actually try to find my father? If I do, the first thing I am going to have to do is talk to my mom to find out more information. I have never felt comfortable talking to my mom about him. She brings him up now and then and it makes me so tense. She doesn't seem to have a problem with it, but I do. I don't know if my mom will feel weird about me wanting to find him. I normally feel comfortable talking to my mom about most things (except I hate it when she talks to me about her menopause symtoms all of a sudden--my cousin and Lucia have both mentioned that their mothers are mentioning their menopause symtoms too, why do they all think we want to talk to them about this?!??!?!) but this is just weird. But I need to ask her about it if I actually want to search because all I really know is his name and it is a common name so there are more than one of them in Portland (and he could have moved, who knows). So then I would need to figure out how to go about it. I could try one of those search services on the internet that you pay a certain amount and they will find them. Say I did find him, how would I contact him? What would I say? What would I want? This is really driving me crazy. I have to figure out whether or not I really want to do this and then go from there. On a brighter note, I felt in a baking mood and actually made fudge. For the first time in the history of Ms. Boombastic's world, I actually brought a decent potluck item to the staff luncheon. Usually I bring something lame and hide it among the gourmet dishes. Even still, not many people seemed to eat it! That is one reason I hate potlucks, because my items always seem to be rejected. That's why I tend to try not to bring anything I made because it is even worse if you work hard on something and it is rejected. I have a traumatic salad story that I might as well relate right now so you know the context behind my potluck phobia. Back when I was in my senior year of college I was taking my senior seminar class on The Brontes. After we wrote our lovely thesis, we had a celebration dinner at our teacher's house. We were all sending emails to each other nonstop beforehand so we were figuring out the dishes everyone would bring on there. I was the FIRST one to say I would bring a dish. I said I would be bringing a salad of some sort. Everyone else said various items they would bring. Then this obnoxious girl, Hilary (YES THIS IS HER REAL NAME: HILARY YOU ARE ONE OF THE RUDEST PEOPLE I HAVE EVER MET AND I WISH UNHAPPY POTLUCK EXPERIENCES ON YOU IN THE FUTURE!) wrote this email that was all, "I will bring a green salad." Excuse me, Hilary, but did you miss the VERY FIRST EMAIL where I said I was bringing a salad? I wrote back and said, "Well, I thought I was bringing the salad but I suppose I could bring something else?" Hilary stated that she thought I was bringing a pasta type salad. The teacher kindly replied that there could never be too much salad. Hilary did not bother to reply and I wrote her another personal email asking whether she would be bringing the salad or not, because if she got my salad email and changed her mind, and then I didn't bring a salad there would be no salad and I felt I would be blamed. I was a little bit freaked out by this, I admit it. So Hilary did not write back. Poor me, I figured I would bring a salad. I paid about ten dollars to buy all my favorite things to put in salad. This is a lot of money for a poor college student so keep that perspective. It was a green salad but it had many fun vegetables and it was a better salad than I would make for just myself. So, typical Ms. Boombastic behavior, I get to the party first. Also typical Ms. Boombastic behavior, I sit in my car outside the house of the party for the next twenty minutes waiting for it to be the actual time the party starts. I always find myself in this situation because I am so afraid of being late that I am always early. Still, twenty minutes later I am the first one to arrive and have to hang out with my teacher alone for about ten minutes. Boy, was that uncomfortable. So I set my salad down on the table, uncover it, and it looks quite nice. I was the first person to put anything on the table because the teacher's lasagna wasn't done yet, and I was the first guest. This is a key detail in the story, so remember it. Many more guests begin to arrive. They set down their dishes on the table and we all make small talk. Hilary arrives, late, all dressed up. Apparently she has a date afterwards. Hilary has a really nasal, annoying voice, so it makes you wonder how she possibly has a date afterwards that she is wearing crushed black velvet for, but oh well. She has a salad with her. I said, "Oh, you brought a salad, so did I, I just wanted to make sure there would be a salad!" and giggle nervously. She looks at me snobbily and says that she didn't have time to respond to my email, but her salad is greek and mine is green. She gives me a look like, "Clearly, you are spending way too much time worrying about a stupid salad." Then she SETS THE SALAD DOWN RIGHT NEXT TO MY SALAD ON THE TABLE! I stared at her in disbelief. Did she really just set her salad right next to mine? Now, if you have ever seen a Greek salad sitting next to a regular green salad, you will know where I was coming from. A Greek salad naturally looks more appealing because it has exotic items in it such as feta cheese and olives. The colors look more delicate next to each other. She knew that her salad was better looking than mine, so had no qualms about putting it next to mine! So dinner is served and everyone eats. Guess what kind of salad everyone chooses when they come to the TWO SALADS RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER? Right, the Greek salad. I whispered to this girl from another country that she needed to try my salad so that it will not look completely rejected. She politely took some of my salad and some of Hilary's evil Greek salad. I then took some of my salad so it would look as if someone else had tried it. I also took some of Hilary's salad to show I was polite and wanted to try her salad. We all sat down to eat. I looked around the room to double check with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Every single person in the room had Hilary's Greek salad on their plates. The only other person beside myself who tried my salad was the girl from another country who had pity on me. This is the kicker: HILARY was eating her own salad. She didn't try some of my salad to be polite and show fair play!!! You think that's bad? Wait until you hear the last straw. Hilary had to leave early for her big date. She went to get her salad bowl. Seeing as how her salad was the big success of the party, the bowl was nearly empty; there were simply some stray spinach leaves and dressing on the bottom. Guess what Hilary did? She PICKED UP HER SALAD BOWL AND DUMPED THE REMAINS ON TOP OF MY SALAD! She then rinsed out her salad bowl with a self-satisfied air and left the party. I know you are thinking, "No one could possibly be that rude, is Ms. Boombastic making this story up?" I assure you, I am not. I had an okay time at the party except I just kept thinking about that salad. Ever since that day I have been leery of potlucks because it is inevitable that my food items are rejected. Okay. This is my last entry for awhile because I will be visiting my mom in Louisiana. Tomorrow is my last day with the kids (yes, they have been bouncing off the walls all this week, thanks for asking!) and then I am out of here! I am so glad I get this break! See you in a while.
|
