:: Oh, Look, A Tumbleweed ::

:: Saturday, August 16, 2003 ::

So...with the license out of the way, what should follow afterwards? Why, the car!

But no.

My dad is an asshole, that's why.

Let's see...I get my license on thursday. This means I have three days to force my dad to get a new car and to make him give me his car.

Oh, my mom offers some sage commentary: "Guess I'll be taking you to school the first few weeks"

Oh fuck no.

Not going to happen. That's gonna be real cool, having my mother still have to drop me off at school when I'M A JUNIOR!!!

My mom says she didn't drive to school in her junior year. I say that's because your mother wouldn't let you get your license. She says even in her senior year she had to carpool for a few weeks. I said, well, that was then, this is now and I have my license. Get me a car, bitch (Well, okay, maybe not, but you have to understand, I had awoken [Is that a word?] at 7:00 that day, and I was irritable as hell [As my mom would gladly attest]). So I proceed to bug the crap out of her. "After we get home, we can go to a used car lot!", etc.

We get home, and, knowing my dad, no, there won't be his brand new 2002/3 car in the driveway and that 8 year old Lexus for me. He would never do that (Side note: I had cut the grass the tuesday before I went to Wilmington. He didn't cut the grass at all while we were gone, leaving it for me, so it hasn't been cut in nearly two weeks. Thanks, dad)

At this point, I don't care if I get my mother's minivan, as long as I am alone in the car on monday morning (I believe I even said a herse would be fine at this point. My homage to Six Feet Under...through an automobile) and I actually stated that. My parent's friends and their two sons (Christopher, 12, and Jonathon, 8) are coming over to visit, and we go out to eat, and I casually drop some hints.

My dad looks straight at me and says: You will not get any car this weekend.

Uh huh. Now, see, I know all my dad will do this weekend is either a.) Lay around and watch whatever pre-season football game is on or b.) Work nonstop in our yard which looks really nice and he's done a great job, but he can never seem to get it right.

It's one thing for him to say I don't have the time. It's another to know that if he wanted to do some research this weekend instead and get the car in a week or so, he could do so without adding the suffix of: We won't have time this weekend.

So my mom says he may not want to get a new car, but I sure as hell might.

So, once again, my mom is the favorite parent and my dad is just a 250+ pound of real estate attorney crap. Who needs to lose weight. And stop finishing the dinners my brother and I don't. It's not a beer gut thing. He lays around all the time when he doesn't work (And he does work a lot, so I am pretty easy going around him) and he eats too much. I worry about him sometimes. Of course, he's 250, and I'm 125. He's almost two me's. Scary.

Celebrating my freedom by going to Birkdale tomorrow. Alone. And spending however much time I want at the Barnes and Noble there. And maybe going to see Russian Ark.

Or going with my mom to get her a new car. You never know.

It is 1:10 AM

Current Mood: Pissed
Current Music: The Smiths - Asleep

:: Nick Saturday, August 16, 2003 [+] ::