exitstrategy

So tonight I had dinner with my parents - high school style.  You know, my mom cooks, and we sit around in silence set off by moments of conversation about the weather, work, etc.  As my mom was cleaning up I glanced down and noticed my mom’s blackberry in this bowl.  I assumed it was broken so I turned it on to investigate.  As soon as the screen lit up, I saw an email between my mom and my sister with subject line: Fat Spinsta.  The two of them had been emailing back and forth about what is best for me.  In their eyes, this means who is best for me.  And, again in their eyes, that means any man with a pulse (although my mom would probably support me dating a man on a ventilator). After the 1,000,000th conversation with my mom (and my sister) about what I want out of life - - which is not what they want for me - - my mom and I end the conversation in the same way: we agree to disagree.  Which in our family means my mom agrees to disagree until she brings it up again, and again, and again.  And for me, it means I bury the feelings down deep and then take my rage out on innocent people (note: this does not include the number cruncher.  Thanks to my concerned fan inquiring of my well being.  I am safe.  Although, today, the number cruncher was singing Killing me Softly). So after we have our familiar song and dance, we sit down to watch the television.  I know Oprah disapproves of families spending their time together watching TV (except for her show I would assume) since that time could be better spent talking, interacting, and building stronger relationships rather than just escaping.  Well for my family, escape is the only option.  Well, true escape is not possible (we are like the Mafia - you can never really be free), so we are left with the virtual escape that comes with 30 minute sit coms. So, during this mini escape, my parents dog sat next to me on the couch.  This dog always loved me.  I used to babysit him when he was my sisters dog, but my sister could not care for him and so he became my parents dog.  He never forgot who was there for him and who abandoned him.  Well, tonight, his looks for me were not the usual aunty-nephew looks.  No, tonight, he would not stop licking my arm.  Then, when I turned away so that he could not lick my arm, he tried to hump my leg.  Not in the 4 years that my parents have had him has this dog tried anything similar.   So this is my life?  My parents dog comes on to me?  My family tries to sell me off to the next breathing male on the street?   

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