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Friday, 23 November 2012

Stop, mother!

Mum called. Apart from the usual chitchat and my sister breaking down over losing work done in her computer because goodness knows where she's saving her files to and why she doesn't plug the computer to a power source rather than hoping it won't unexpectedly run out of battery even though it totally has several times in the past, there was a tid bit in the end that really upset me.

Mum asked about college and whether or not I'm set up for next semester. I told her it's being worked on. She asked how much it will cost. I don't know. I haven't checked. I'm sure it's bloody expensive. I gave her an educated guess of the lower boundary for the semester's worth and she asked if uncle A was here. I told her he is. She asked why I don't sit down and talk to him. I don't feel like it.

Out of instinct and habit, I often enough sat at the table with him while I ate. I quickly changed my mind and I know avoid him as much as aunt A around the house. For one, there's the constant clicking noises he makes, which annoy me to no end. If he's eating, there's the bad table manners. Suppose I don't mind that all that much. Well, even when I did sit down with him, he more often than not didn't talk. At all. I felt like I was a nuisance and I was keeping him from whatever he was reading and listening to. When he does talk, I quickly want out of the conversation, for different reasons (depending on the conversation).

Sometimes he's bringing up fun facts in the form of "shit he just read/found" and I'm not a fan of the things he points out. Just yesterday, for instance, it was all about how Troy was really in England and Homer knew all about it. I'm pretty sure the timing doesn't add up for that one... If not, he complains about some conspiracy or other. Again, not a fan. Then, there's the conversations not unlike some of the conversations aunt A starts when he tries to tell me to do things. While I understand it's all well-intended and in good spirits, I don't take well to these conversations. He tells me to learn how to drive and get my driver's license as soon as possible. I want to put it off even more because he's said it. He asks if I haven't read the book intended to help me get into college or something. I haven't, and I all the more want to forget the book even exists.

Mum says I owe it to him. I owe it to him to be polite and say hello when I see him. I owe it to him to be a good student and houseguest. I am. I owe it to him to get him a nice, thoughtful, Christmas present. I'm planning to (I found the show he saw the preview for and I intend to get him the Blu-Rays). I owe it to him (in a weird way) to look after aunt A and help around the house (however house-elf my approach). I try to make it up to him by cooking things he likes every so often. I don't feel it's fair to demand that I try to make conversation with him. We talk... enough (if not plenty) when we go out for lunch on the weekends. If it came down to that, I just might explode saying my old university was cheaper and higher ranked than the one they've set me up to attend (yes, higher ranked... A posted a link to QS and I happened to look). 

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