My kids went on vacation today. I am so incredibly annoyed about the whole thing I can't even begin to put words to it. Of course, they went with douchebag and The Girlfriend. I'm pissed because for ten years of being married to that complete asshole, we went on exactly two vacations, both times to the beach, and he bitched and moaned the entire time, because he hates the beach. We went on vacation for our honeymoon, which was to the Outer Banks, because I refused to fly anywhere. He wanted to go back to the place he had his first honeymoon and then pouted for weeks when I refused. Maybe the honeymoon would have been more enjoyable if we had taken separate vacations. And then, fast forward to 2009, we took our first family vacation, and he bitched and moaned about that one, too, even though I had found a completely decent house to rent a block and a half off of a beach access during high season for $600 a week! Tightwads of the world, unite!
I'll assume he didn't hate the beach but just hated me. Well, dickface, it's mutual. I sent him a text today and told him that I needed the address where the children would be staying for the week, well, because I need to know where in the hell my children are. He texted the address back and I didn't bother to acknowledge it or to say "Have a great time" or any of that nice shit. Nope. Nothing from me. Simply because I know how much it pisses him off when I don't acknowledge his texts. So right after work I came home, hopped on Google Maps and googled that bitch. Yep, because that's what any self-respecting, sometimes bitter ex-wife would do. I'm pleased to report they are staying at a condo development about five miles from the beach. I can't find any real estate rental information about it, other than it's owned by some guy in New York, so I'll have to assume it's some sort of time share. I hope that my kids have a great time and I hope he has a miserable time and gets sunburned on his nasty furry chest that he refuses to manscape. See, I'm already feeling better.
My vacation starts on Saturday. Guy #1 asked me to go back to his hometown in Indiana and meet the family. I didn't realize what a big deal this was until all of my guy friends started weighing in with their opinions. Apparently, meeting a guy's family IS A BIG DEAL. How the hell would I know this? I've never had to travel to meet anyone's family before, so this is new. Dating is still kind of new. Dating someone with kids is still kind of new. Traveling with a kid to meet the family is new. Traveling with a kid and the dog to meet the family is new. I'm just a tiny bit antsy.
I don't travel well, and this is probably because I never do it. In my adult life, I've taken one honeymoon, one family vacation, one weekend trip with a girlfriend to the beach (for which The Ex gave me shit about for three months afterward) and one trip to Illinois to take my grandfather to his World War II reunion, so that didn't even count as a vacation. I've gone out of town a few times for a couple of conferences and I hated that and I'm already working on my excuse to get out of the next conference. But when I say I don't travel well, I mean, I don't travel well. I'm like that purebred Afghan hound that alternately howls and pukes the entire trip, all the while trembling and shaking. Seriously. This is why I've never moved far away from my family, and this is why I have an aunt who lives in Seattle who I haven't seen since 2003. And I have no intention of seeing her unless she comes back to Virginia. She's kind of a weird, left-wing, spinster aunt whom I've never really known beyond Christmas cards and I already told my mom when my aunt dies she's on her own to get my grandmother's stuff back to Virginia. I also have a stepsister in Alabama that I see exactly once or twice per year, when she comes back to Virginia. I'd like to think I'm that kind of person that doesn't come to you, but you come to me. Like the Godfather.
So Saturday morning, Guy #1, his teenage daughter, dog and I will be loading up in the car for a nice 15 hour drive or so to Indiana. Yeah, mapquest says 12 hours and some minutes, but with a dog (and me) it will be about 15 hours. I know this and have told him this, but he doesn't believe me. I am guessing that by the time we hit mid-Kentucky all four of us will want me to be riding in the trunk. Bound and gagged. And then, after we finally get there, I get to meet his ENTIRE family. Which will not be stressful to me *at all*. Not at all. I feel kind of like I did when the people at work gave me employee of the quarter and I guiltily felt like I had bamboozled them and then felt obligated to work about three times harder to make them think they hadn't made a bad decision after all. Which I am still sure that they did, because the quarter after they gave me employee of the quarter I got in trouble with one of the big wigs at work which resulted in me having to write a letter of apology and sitting in my office sobbing for hours at a time.
So given that experience, God only knows how this is going to go. I'll assume a few months after this trip I'll end up having to write someone a letter of apology. I've unfortunately heard all these great things that Guy #1 has told his family about me on the phone and I'm like, HOLY FUCK! I have got to go to another state and pretend to be fucking phenomenal now! OH MY GOD, the pressure is on! I can fake being phenomenal in the next county, but I've never had to do it in another state. I've got exactly one week to live up to all of this shit he's told his family about me! And so, arriving in Indiana sometime Saturday night will be the Stephanie version of Betty Crocker meets Carol Brady meets June Cleaver meets Claire Huxtable (except I'm not black) meets Cagney and Lacey (just because I thought they were tough as hell when I watched them on TV) meets Daisy Duke meets Wonder Woman. Which is a joke, because most people know me more of a Roseanne kind of person. Minus the factory job and polyester pants. And then, because I do have some semblance of manners, I'll feel obligated to be on my best behavior the whole time and be the best and most unobtrusive house guest there ever was. I won't sleep in the bed, I'll just sleep under it. I'll scrub the bathroom down every day and fold my clothes and zip my suitcase back up every morning, I'll go to bed at 7:30pm and stay in bed until 7:30am, and I won't eat more than an anorexic teenage girl. I'll set lots of other rules to follow (and I'll write them down and carry them in my wallet just to make sure I'm doing everything right). Because really, who the hell wants a sloppy house guest who just makes themselves at home? Not me, that's for damn sure. This is also why I don't allow people from out of town to stay with me, either. Get a room, for chrissakes. I am not going to be your fucking Courtyard at the Marriott.
And then, we will make our way to Chicago where we will stay with other family members and I get to pretend all over again, and blissfully, on Saturday morning, I get to face one of my greatest fears when I hop on a big, old jet airplane to fly back to Richmond (well, let's hope the jet airplane isn't old). My kids are moving back home that weekend and my work schedule isn't workable for me taking Monday off. I shall decompress at the Chicago O'Hare bar bright and early Saturday morning, and then I shall visit the Philadelphia airport bar as well, because the plane that's taking me from Philadelphia to Richmond is kind of small. At least this trip makes geographical sense and not like the time I flew to Atlanta from Richmond, because obviously the most direct route from Richmond to Atlanta is through New Jersey. The last time I flew I almost had a panic attack when we started backing away from the terminal, so I'm not sure how this one is going to go, being post-9/11 and all. I can only hope my TSA fondler is a good looking dyke.
I'm pretty sure Guy #1 still doesn't realize how high my level of maintenance can go. He probably will after this trip. If he's still speaking to me.
2 comments:
I like your blog post but just a few things I would tell you if I were Guy #1........I am sure he is not asking you to pretend to be somebody you are not just be yourself. I am sure all the stuff he has told his family is nothing but the truth because I know your personality will shine.
I know if it was me I would not want a robot with a computer program making sure you are doing everything right because if you can not be you around people who can you be? Nobody likes fake people or people who follow lists all the time.
I will end on this who in the hell wants a house guest that can't make themselves at home? I am almost sure Guy #1 would tell you to just relax and let YOU give yourself a chance to have fun and stop trying to be a perfectionist because there is no such thing in this world!!!!! You would be suprised what can happen when you relax but have fun and I will talk to you when you get back!!!!
Just read this and had to get out of bed and go to the laptop to say first of all about the beach thing....I KNOW! What the hell? When I heard they were going to the beach I was like, huh?
Second thing -- you are created WAAAAAY too much pressure for yourself on this Guy #1 trip. You can never live up to the perfection you're trying to create and if you don't re-think it, you will crash and burn. Believe me, I spent the first 2 years of married life having bad headaches whenever we saw hubby's parents, from the pressure of trying to be whatever it was his mother wanted from me, and IT WAS NEVER GONNA HAPPEN. It culminated in a true migraine and involved puking and other ugly things, which led me to realize the cause of the headaches was 1) his mother's expectations of our relationship and 2) the pressure I was putting on myself regarding the whole situation. The headaches stopped the day I realized what was going on and decided to just do what I wanted and not what anyone else wanted. I still got annoyed, but no headaches anymore.
For your sake and Guy #1's sake, you've got to relax as much as possible. I know, I know -- not easy to do when you feel like you're on display for the family, but you MUST try. Create a different scenario in your head about the trip -- a more positive one. I'm a firm believer that we will live out the stories we create and you're creating an impossible story. Just be your normal smart and funny self -- forget all this Betty Crocker shit. I mean, who the hell ever wanted to spend any time, much less party, with a women with a stick (or maybe a mixer or iron) up her ass?
And, you will need to be chilled out to face the plane ride home; AND you need to be calm and ready for the kids when they come back home. This cannot happen if you go down the road you've described. At the end of the week you will be fleeing.
And, tell Guy #1 that you know he likes you, but to help you out by not putting you on too much of a pedestal with the family, so you don't feel like you have to live up to so much. I'm sure if you tell him that, he will understand how much pressure we women sometimes can feel over these things. Carve out some time to be alone or just with Guy #1 -- it's too much to be with new people who are also his family ALL WEEK LONG.
Okay, I was really concerned when I read your post, but now that I've had my say, I feel better! And if you relax and go with the flow, you will too.
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