Smackdown entry, Thursday, June 13: "Which part of your house is always dirty?"

Every last inch of it!

Oh, um, am I supposed to go into more detail than that?

Living room: Generally the neatest room in the house, as the only general mess is on the tables, which currently hold my beads and a couple of videotapes.

Kitchen: Also generally neat, except for when someone actually like, cooks. Trash and recycling always seem to be overflowing even when they were just taken out, though.

Hall: Okay, not a lot of mess you can make in the hall, either. Mainly the floor probably needs mopping, except I really don't want to be playing Slip 'n Slide on the floors again like I was a few weeks ago. I so keep thinking I'm going to hurt myself.

Bathroom: Nobody likes cleaning it, chore schedule or not. 'Nuff said. Especially since some parts just will NOT look clean no matter what you do to them.

Hill's bedroom: Not quite as neat as she always brags about all the time- sometimes objects will be strewn about the floor and couch like everyone else. Of course, not nearly as bad as mine.

My bedroom: Well, you've heard plenty about that one. Mainly the issue is piles- blanket pile on the end of the bed sometimes, a bag filled with shoes, various Important Papers on my desk, along with jewelry. Big clothing pile on the floor of the closet (dirty clothes bag, clothes basket, pile of clothes that have developed rips and I still haven't gotten around to mending), usually a little clothing pile on the armchair from when I was trying to figure out what to wear in the morning.

But that's really about it for the major mess these days. Fortunately, Hill's been cleaning it for the party when I haven't been home.

The graduation went surprisingly well. Though we all (and by "all", I mean all 16 people in our party) could have done without sitting in the hot sun on hard concrete for two hours. Thank God I borrowed Hill's new personal fan. Also thank god that I didn't sit by my parents in the handicapped section, even if it was cooler, because they were stuck sitting with Uncle Brad's mother. Whose topics of conversation were (a) how my other son is the only one who cares about me and holds my ice for me right (this one pissed Aunt Susie off- "I held the ice for her!" Of course, that doesn't count because you're the daughter-in-law), (b) I used to date Harvard boys (but you didn't marry one, ahem), and my personal favorite, (c) REPEATEDLY trying to talk Dad into giving her his wheelchair. Even offered him $1000 bucks for it. Apparently the only thing that shut her up was when she found out how much it really cost.

My mother again decided that she wants to drive home all night long. (Basically, Dad refused to spend the night.) She could not be dissuaded even after I sicced Aunt Susie on her. Sigh.

The ceremony was the fastest I've ever seen. An hour and a half, whipping through 400+ graduates. No boring-ass adult speakers helped a ton. A few numbers by the award-winning jazz choir, thirteen one-minute valedictorian speeches, handing out diplomas to kids who were jumping around, fake-tripping, cartwheeling, etc., some TP/tortilla/confetti/beach ball/inflatable dino/thong underwear throwing, and that was it. Impressive.

Most of the valedictorian speeches were the usual traditional dull crap, but two stood out. One guy basically kept talking about standing and sitting repeatedly, no one entirely knew why. ("Obviously, I am not a speechwriter.") The other one was a girl who was talking about fads. Amusingly enough, I did all the fads she listed, and I'm six years older than this bunch. Anyway, she likened it to lemmings jumping off cliffs, then said "I bet you wish you could take the microphone from me right now." She just rambled on amusingly. I loved it. (Note: she was wearing purple sequinned platform thong shoes.) I told this to my aunt and she said that girl was obnoxious. Sigh.

Seriously, the family issues Just. Won't. Stop. The newest chaos: Grandma fell in the shower and broke her shoulder and might have to have surgery on it, and Justin's having his tonsils out. Oy. And Mom e-mailed me at work said "Aunt Susie asked us to stay for the 4th and 5th, so we can see Granddaddy for his birthday on the 5th," and do I want to come? ARGH. This is the side of the family I like, mind you, but I have had way enough of mandatory weekend family gatherings by now. (And yes, Dad, I'm not coming home for Father's Day, I'VE JUST BEEN HOME FOR HALF A MONTH! I JUST SAW YOU THREE DAYS EARLIER!) Adding in celebrating Granddaddy's birthday is just such an enticer there, too. If I do end up forced to go to that I'm NOT taking the 5th off from work. GAH.

I'm rather pissed, since I told Aunt Susie before she got this last-minute idea that I was going to Dave's for that weekend. I told this to Mom in e-mail, but it was ten minutes before the end of work and she didn't write me back, though she had been writing me back every five minutes (she's pissed at Auntie D again). This is nervewracking, and I just want to KNOW before Dave calls if I'm going to be forced to go to this again. Given that her precious Granddaddy is involved, she'll probably even more pissed than usual that I'm ditching my family for a boy. Girlfriends is another story, but a boy, oh, god no, not okay.

Okay, so she hasn't actually had the time to say no to me yet, but I still dread it. I tried calling her to get this settled before 8 p.m., but first the line was busy and then nobody answered the phone. Call it a hunch that yet more family shit happened and they had to take off. So I'm going to have to tell Dave this and feel like a moron about it because I don't know if I even can.

How can she keep "making" me do these things, you ask? My friend Denise put it best when talking about her weekend where she had to go to a funeral: "I'm really glad I went because even though it was two days of hell, at least my mother won't bitch about me not going for the next 30 years." If she's gonna throw that big of a fit, it usually just isn't worth it to attempt to get my way.

I cannot stand up to my parents. No matter what they do, I know that I will never say to them, "Fuck off, I don't care about your feelings, I'm going to do what I want to." I am unfortunately too much of a people pleaser, for one thing, and for another, I HATE when they do that to me, and I don't want to perpetuate the cycle. I feel like shit telling them no. I don't enjoy doing what I want to knowing that I've made others feel like shit about it, as you've probably noticed in my entries in the last two months. This is why I can't stand to be put between people in a situation where I'm guaranteed to make someone miserable.

Usually it just isn't worth the fighting it would take- and even after a lot of fighting, I usually don't get my way. When I try, it's like talking to a brick wall that starts falling on you. And in all honestly, they have a lot more stamina for this shit than I do. I cannot stand having to say "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no no no no no no no no no nononononononononononono NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!" and then it STILL doesn't work. I cannot keep this up once, let alone on a regular basis. I just want the fighting to stop. I stop caring about my own wants and needs, I just don't want to do it any more. And so they win, and I stop caring that they won.

I piss people off SO much when I talk about this. I don't even think of the consequences about ranting about it any more, I just come into somewhere grumbling about it and suddenly everyone starts telling me how I HAVE to stand up to them for my own sanity. (What sanity? Like there's any left? Believe me, "preserving" my sanity is not even an issue for me any more.) And that either I cut them off and make them conform to my standards of behavior, or I smile, shut up, and deal with it. And of course, I can't resolve myself to either course of action, because I am pathetic. I deal with it, yes, even though I'm not thrilled about it. I can't resolve my damn feelings about the whole thing and SHUT UP about it already. I try and try and try and never quite make it. But I don't think they're bad enough to scream at and never speak to again, either. They'd have to do something incredibly heinous to get that kind of treatment out of me. And they're not all that likely to actually do what I ask in that regard no matter how I put it. And why should they? I can't think of any reason why they would want to. They know what they want, they're going to fight for it, and they know they're going to win no matter what because I don't have what it takes in me. I am too worn out after too many fruitless battles. My head's been bashed against the wall enough.

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