Said Mother to me:

Jason, with your hair, you look like an artist!

The other day my aunt asked me whether i was happy we sprung for the house instead of the condo. The question was phrased in the vein of “aren’t you glad we got the house instead of the condo?”
to give a little backstory, the condo vs. house question was decided by my aunt. my input really wasn’t asked for or considered, but i like to think i weighed the decision heavily in my mind. it came down to value vs. cost/lifestyle. The condo was in soma, close to the action, but more expensive. The house was cheaper, a bit of a fixer upper, but out in the boonies.

anyway, my reply focused more on the indefinite answer do to lack of experiential evidence in the vein of, “gee, i don’t know cause i’ve never had the condo experience.”. sounded pretty logical to me. i think she was a bit disappointed with my answer. she then proceeded to list the pros of the house decision. it retains its value better, there’s a grocery store nearby, yadd, yadda, and finally:

and it’s close to the beach, so you could run there . . . oh, but you don’t run

that’s right. i don’t run. I just sleep all day.

I can’t remember the last time I was this irritable (perhaps it was the last time i considered california my home), but today, I am most irritable. why you ask? Why, it would be my pleasure to tell you.

This weekend the brother was away, the aunt & uncle was away, and I was looking forward to a nice relaxing weekend.

as should be obvious to me by now and perhaps should be tattoo’d on my forehead: thou shalt never relax, make plans, or even conceive the concept of individuality or personal life.

as friday approached, the task list began to grow:

task 1: wake up at 8am to let the cleaning lady in. so much for sleeping in.

task 2: pick up my 15 year old cousin from the airpart at 5:30pm on sat. so much for dinner plans on sat. night.

task 3: pick up tickets to Colma for my brother at the Kabuki theater.

task 4: mom is in town. put on the chauffer hat.

Four things on the task list. not too bad, right? wrong. Friday night i catch the kings game and we lose to Indiana. the warning lights begin to flash. I head to dinner with the team and then head back to the city. Contemplate calling some folks to see what’s up and then realize my fantasy of an imaginary house has left me with no cash to burn for that night. Go home, open a bottle of wine and drink it by myself.

7:50am rolls around and i wake up to open the door for the cleaning lady. Then I call my cousin. it turns out that he has a birthday party to go to in pacifica which is ten miles from the airport, and he wants me to drive him home to shower and then back down to pacific. I call and he doesn’t pick up, so i leave a message to tell him it’s a no go. we’re going straight from the airport to his party. go back to sleep.

wake up at 10:30. mom calls and says she’s on the bay bridge, she should be in the city soon and i should get ready to drive her to the conservatory in Golden Gate Park. I get up, shower, wait.

11:30 rolls by and she calls and says she’s going to walk to the conservatory and i don’t need to drive her. Then my uncle calls and asks if i want to go to in n out for lunch. sure.

in n out is out by fisherman’s wharf. we get there around 1pm, order food, sit down. I get a call. It’s mom. “When are you going to be back? I don’t want to walk to the conservatory anymore. it’s too far.” Nothing I can do but listen to her complain about why i’m eating so late (gee, maybe it’s because i spent the morning waiting for her?)

get back from fisherman’s wharf and check my cousin’s flight. it’s five minutes early. Mom get’s back from the conservatory, and i need to drive her back to my grandmother’s place for the night and then head out to pick up my cousin.

I get to the airport at 5:40pm and call the cousin. straight to voicemail. Call again. straight to voicemail. circle the airport and call again. straight to voicemail. repeat for the next 20min. finally, he calls me. “Jason, where have you been?” Where have i been?!? turn on your f-ing phone! I’ve been calling you for the past 20min! wait. deep breath. he’s only 15. I pick him up. “Did you get my message?” I ask him. “Yeah, except I don’t have the birthday present.” I look at him. I glare. You have to be f-ing kidding me. Couldn’t bother to let me know before i left the house?!? Deep breath. He’s only 15. It’s a girl’s birthday party. Can’t have a family member showing up to a girl’s birthday party without a gift. Looks like i’m driving home.

On the drive home the cousin tries to start some conversation. He borrowed my bag for his trip, so he says thanks for letting him borrow it. Then goes on to say:

“Y’know, your bag smells.”

I ask, “what did you do to it?”

“Nothing! but, it smells like weed.”

“Then you must have been smoking weed.”

“I didn’t! I swear!”

I look at him. I glare. deep breath. end the conversation.

The drive to the airport, back home, down to pacifica, and back to the city takes two hours. On the way home for the last leg, i call up some friends to see what’s going on. They’re catching V for Vendetta. Sweet. all in.

Have some down time before the show starts. Go to Kabuki to pick up Kev’s tickets. Spend ten minutes looking for parking about five blocks away. Get to the box office. Tickets are sold out. message the brother to let him know.
The next four or five hours go by without a hitch. Ate dinner. watched movie, grabbed beer.

Wake up the next day for lunch with Mom. It’s during the Kings game. son of a bitch. games missed this year is something like 15 or 20. That’s more than the past three years combined. The kings lose. damn, that’s two in a row. I hate not having my own place. I hate not having a tv, not having a couch, not having a cable package that more than 13 channels.

Have lunch. people talk about my imaginary house which has sucked all my money away and left me with nothing but false promises and a quickly dying possibility of ever inhabiting the money pit that is home ownership. April 15, they say. Just like they said January 31. Just like they said there would be people working on it this past week. This house doesn’t exist. The chances of me dying are greater than the chances of this house getting done. It is a fantasy. a fairy tale. But, santa clause is dead, and elvis has left the building.

Lunch finishes up, mom leaves for sacramento, the brother returns from his weekend on the slopes. “Did you get the tickets?” he asks. Did he not read his messages? apparently not. “No.”

Next, he tells me the honda is in the shop (could have told me sooner, maybe?), he has to take the VW. He’ll drive me to the shop tomorrow morning to get the honda around 9:15am today. I tell him i can take the bus. He says, no, don’t worry about it.

9:15 arrives this morning. I’m ready to go. I get a phone call. Brother is running late. will pick me up at 10:00. alright. no problem. I turn the laptop on, kick off a cvs update and start reading the weekend email/bugs. 9:45 comes and the brother waltzes in. “are you ready?” he asks. I start shutting down and packing things away. brother looks annoyed. he says, “I have a meeting at 10:00pm, could you hurry it up?” can i hurry it up?!? YOU are the one that’s make ME late. Can *I* hurry it up?!? I could have taken the bus and avoided this situation, but we followed YOUR plan!!!!!

I get to work, start looking at the todo list and get a call. It’s the brother. “Ever hear of a company called plantronics?” he asks. Yeah. i have. apparently, they’re running this contest to win a free headset. my brother wants to enter, but he has to refer three emails. “Can i use all of the email address i have for you?” he asks. Thanks brother. just use my email addresses as your f-ing spam hole. really appreciate it. really f-ing appreciate it.
If your last name or your mother’s maiden name is Wong, leave me alone. just leave me alone.

family member to me: I don’t want to have to think when i talk to you.

I guess i should give a little back-fill. Since the beginning of time as i know it, the ol’ family has never been able to accept a single decision i’ve made. examples:

what time do you want to leave tomorrow?
how about 6?
are you sure? why not 8?

what would you like for breakfast?
a bagel.
are you sure you don’t want eggs?

I got a job at Yahoo! I’m moving back to california.
Why? You’re so close to finishing your masters.

I think my favorite of all time is my mom:
would you like some tea?
no, I’m fine, thanks.
by fine you mean yes?
I mean no.
ok, fine, means no. Do you want a snack?
ok
by ok you mean no?
by ok I mean yes.
ok, ok means yes. Would you like X?
No, I’m fine.
fine means yes?
I mean no.
ok, fine means no.
now, once in a while, no problem. every single freaking day of my life? problem. So, in an effort to resolve this, i’ve tried to be more transparent. They say you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. i disagree. You just have to make sure it’s thirsty first. In non-allegory speak, it’s called buy-in.

aside: y’know, i don’t know why i’m writting this right now. perhaps because it is late, i am tired, and most probably lack good judgement. anyhow, this kind of feels like revealing trade secrets.

anyway, buy-in. so, lately, instead of yes or no answers, i’ve given my current state of mind. the train of thought being if i walk these people through my thought process, they will come to the same conclusions as i do. examples:

Can you go skiing with us this weekend?
I have a lot of work to do.

Can you drive me downtown?
I just got back from the eye-doctor’s and my eyes are dialated.

and, hence, we get the comment that started this whole post . . . *sigh* time to find a dryer desert to drag this horse through.

my aunt (to me): Do you want to join us for brunch?
me: no, i need to get some work done
my aunt (to my uncle): Jason’s not coming. he wants to sleep.

aunt: when my mouse isn’t doing well, what does it mean?
me: it could be a couple things. the computer might be busy and can’t respond fast enough
aunt: could it be the wireless as well?
me: yeah
aunt: so it doesn’t have anything to do with the weather?
me: . . . .

kevin: you don’t qualify for a loan
me: why?
kevin: because you haven’t been at your job for 2 years
me: so when people move for jobs, they can’t buy a house?
kevin: no, they can if they have a good job.

this reminds me of when i broke the news to mom about getting the new job:
me: mom, i got a job at Yahoo!
mom: oh, that’s great. are you going to be answering phones for them?