Farewell to the Land of Kilts and Haggis Pt. 2
All right, the moment you've all been waiting for, (maybe)...the continuation of my day-to-day journal of my last few days in Scotland and my first week back in the States.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 16th, 2006
While I'm constantly thanking God that my trip back to the US wasn't as harsh and sickening as my trip to Glasgow, I must admit that it wasn't a picnic. It started out pretty smoothly, (kind of), with me arriving an hour before check-in for my flight even started. This I am kind of upset about, considering, as I mentioned before, I could have had an extra hour to cuddle, or at least wouldn't have been in nearly as much of a panic in terms of packing and getting my room all cleaned up. I would have had a chance to vacuum and wouldn't be worrying so much about what the Uni is going to do because of all of the crap on the floor. Still, it meant that I made it to the airport in plenty of time to stand around for an hour and worry about my flight, cry over the fact that I was leaving my friends and all of the hot accents, etc.
When I made it to check-in, I got to find out one of the major downsides of never having been outside the country before--I had never before done US customs and was in no way prepared for that. I had to fill in some crazy customs form declaring every gift item I had bought while abroad. I had thought about bringing all of my receipts in order to get a VAT refund, but by the time I had finished packing, I was so frustrated that I didn't want to bother. I don't think I had the time anyway. Still, I began to regret not having my receipts when I found out I had to write down every gift item I had ever bought. I didn't actually, I only wrote down a few, but they'll never know. I'll just let them assume that the CDs and stuff I bought were things I brought with me. I doubt they'll figure that out. Unless they read my LJ...
It didn't help that I had at least two stops added to my flight since we first booked it, and I ended up having to go through airport security at least three times on that trip, i.e. taking off the belt, the scarf, the hat, the two coats and the shoes, having to pry my computer out of my overstuffed bag, and then having to put everything back on and figure out a way to get my computer back into my bag after everything else had already settled into the space where my laptop had once been.
The fun began when I arrived in Dublin. I thought I had a decent sized layover in which I could stare out the window of the terminal and go, "So that's Ireland, eh?" for an hour. Not so. It didn't seem like we had been delayed at all in the flight from Glasgow, but when I arrived at the AA desk in Dublin, I, along with others from my flight, was berated for being very late for check-in, and that boarding for the flight to Shannon/Chicago was to begin in just a few minutes. The kind couple behind me argued us into check-in, and also managed to weedle one of the security guards into letting us through the first class security line. To that couple, whoever you were, (not like I actually expect you to read this, but hey, weirder things have happened...maybe you two are avid LJ browsers), thanks so much for everything. I felt so much safer and more confident even when I was just following you guys around on the way to the gate. For those few minutes, I felt like I wasn't so alone, so again, thank you.
The wait in Shannon was long to make up for the wait time I didn't have in Dublin. Not that I was very happy about that. I sat in the window, and by some freak occurrence, the sun was shining through the window and I was burning up. The flight to Shannon was the same plane and flight number as the flight to Chicago, but we had to get off the plane anyway to do "pre-customs" or something stupid like that.
Seven freaking hours in the plane to Chicago, but they played Talladega Nights and Elf so that was good, though I was tired from staying up all night and kept nodding off in the middle of Talladega Nights. Sadness. I ended up getting really confused and not knowing what was going on. When I finally arrived in Chicago, I had to go through customs but that wasn't as painful as pre-customs anyway. I just had to pick up my luggage, give a slip of paper to a guy, and then re-check in. The shock came when I found out that my 4:45 flight to San Francisco didn't actually exist and I wasn't able to get out of Chicago until 7. I hate air travel.
The upside of all of this was that I managed to get seated by some nice people, no crazy ones like on my flight from San Francisco to Chicago on the way to Glasgow. From Glasgow to Dublin I sat next to a guy who had lived in my student village who was pretty nice, and from Dublin to Shannon I was alone. From Shannon to Chicago I sat next to a guy who had done a semester abroad in Ireland, and while we didn't talk for most of the flight, when we did start talking, I found out he was a pretty nice guy. From Chicago to San Francisco I ended up sitting alone because as soon as they announced that there were empty seats on the plane, the snobby guy next to me picked up his crap and moved to the darkest corner of the plane to sleep with his eye mask.
So I made it back to the States in one piece, and all I've got left is a measly four hour drive from Santa Rosa to Eureka. I need sleep.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 19th, 2006
I'm living in a construction zone. Oh, sure, it was fun for a while but now it's really getting to me. It doesn't help that I got into a huge fight with my mother today over the whole thing.
Eureka is colder than it should be right now and I'm living in a half-finished house that only has heat when we can spare the fuel in the generator. Several times since I came back, my mother has given me the "at least we aren't living in a mud hut in Africa" speech, and she tried to give it to me again today. That's where the trouble began.
Now, while I could have handled the situation a lot better, I have to blame part of this whole thing on her. She asked me today whether I was all right living in the house, and apologizing if it was an inconvenience to me. I told her that I was irritated, but that it wasn't a big deal and I couldn't do anything about it anyway. She tried to give me the "starving in Africa" lecture again, and I interrupted her saying, "Mom, please don't." Long story short, it resulted in me trying to calm her down while she shouted at me about having respect for my family and not being so damned rude to everyone all the time.
In a normal situation I would probably just think, "Okay, she'll cool down and this whole thing is going to blow over eventually." However, the fight, for me, turned out to be a metaphor for my family falling apart, mainly because of my mother. She is alienating my siblings and I. She doesn't like that we're growing up and developing our own opinions. To her, the fact that we don't agree with every word she says means that she has failed as a parent. The four of us have grown up completely screwed up because of it, feeling guilty for things we know we shouldn't feel guilty about. She gets angry with us for "not respecting other people's opinions" when it is completely the other way around. Sure, we respect her opinion, but because we don't always agree with her she thinks that we don't. On the other hand, every time we try to speak out for our own beliefs she finds every way she can to shoot us down, even if she is full of shit. The problem is, even when she is full of shit, she has this uncanny ability to make us feel like maybe we're wrong.
I got in the car and drove around Eureka for a while in tears and eventually ended up hanging out with Kris for a while, and by the time I got back she had quieted down and was friendly with me again. Too bad this kind of thing is destined to happen again.
The problem is, if she carries on this way, she is going to confirm her own worst fears and drive us away from her. I wish that there were some way to talk to her about it, and we have tried coming up with gentle ways to bring it up, but it seems to me that she is far too set in her ways and that it would just end up speeding up the process. The last thing I want is to get to that point where I have my own family and never speak to her except for that obligatory "look how your grandkids are growing up" visit every couple of years. I hope and pray that we all find some way to prevent that. Who knows, maybe if we all disappear for a while she will realize her mistake and come around, and then we could all resolve our differences more easily than would be possible now. We'll see.
I hate growing up.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 23rd, 2006
I'm skipping forward a few days. Nothing much has happened except eating tortilla soup and watching Christmas movies in the motor home where my parents have been living. The house is coming along, and I can already tell it's going to be beautiful when it's done.
I've gotten all of my Christmas shopping and wrapping done. I had hoped that I would be able to get more than one present for everyone this year but it's getting harder and harder to figure out what everyone wants. Gifts have gotten so impersonal, too. I thought about trying to write everyone a story as well. We will see if I have time before the day rolls around. Oh well, at least I was able to get gifts at all. It's better than those stupid one-page comics I made everyone a couple of years back. Thank God for the Target card. And also the electronic advancements that have made it possible for all statements to be delivered electronically so that my mom won't know that I'm blowing a bunch of money that I don't have.
I'm finally in Seattle, but only after like twelve hours in the car with my parents. Now that was a good time. I suppose it could have been worse, but there was a lot of boredom, and a lot of awkward moments when I mentioned things that I didn't realize I shouldn't have mentioned until after I mentioned them. Oh well, it's over now, and it wasn't nearly as painful as it could have been. We haven't killed each other yet, plus I had a chance to finish The Sound and the Fury. Finally!
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 24th, 2006
Merry Christmas Eve, everyone, and Happy Birthday, Butt.
So today began with Mandy and Mom walking in the door and fighting like a pair of alleycats. I ducked downstairs to try and get away/catch up on old e-mails, but unfortunately, Mom had the same idea and spent the next half an hour downstairs crying with me being the only one there to console her. Fun. I'm sure it didn't actually help, since she is now just as disappointed in me as she is in the rest of the sibs. God help us.
I guess, after that blew over, it became a very pleasant day. I went out with Nick and Mandy to do some last-minute stocking-stuffer shopping, and everyone has been fairly civil. Maybe because it's almost Christmas. Too bad I still have to go to church later on tonight. That ought to be a rip-roaring good time...
Oh well, one hour isn't going to kill me. Plus, I really need to start working on my spiritual life.
I doubt I'm going to have time to work on a story for everyone. Oh well.
And now we're all caught up! Enjoy. Tomorrow, I get to write a sugar-coated Christmas message in order to please my extended family.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 16th, 2006
While I'm constantly thanking God that my trip back to the US wasn't as harsh and sickening as my trip to Glasgow, I must admit that it wasn't a picnic. It started out pretty smoothly, (kind of), with me arriving an hour before check-in for my flight even started. This I am kind of upset about, considering, as I mentioned before, I could have had an extra hour to cuddle, or at least wouldn't have been in nearly as much of a panic in terms of packing and getting my room all cleaned up. I would have had a chance to vacuum and wouldn't be worrying so much about what the Uni is going to do because of all of the crap on the floor. Still, it meant that I made it to the airport in plenty of time to stand around for an hour and worry about my flight, cry over the fact that I was leaving my friends and all of the hot accents, etc.
When I made it to check-in, I got to find out one of the major downsides of never having been outside the country before--I had never before done US customs and was in no way prepared for that. I had to fill in some crazy customs form declaring every gift item I had bought while abroad. I had thought about bringing all of my receipts in order to get a VAT refund, but by the time I had finished packing, I was so frustrated that I didn't want to bother. I don't think I had the time anyway. Still, I began to regret not having my receipts when I found out I had to write down every gift item I had ever bought. I didn't actually, I only wrote down a few, but they'll never know. I'll just let them assume that the CDs and stuff I bought were things I brought with me. I doubt they'll figure that out. Unless they read my LJ...
It didn't help that I had at least two stops added to my flight since we first booked it, and I ended up having to go through airport security at least three times on that trip, i.e. taking off the belt, the scarf, the hat, the two coats and the shoes, having to pry my computer out of my overstuffed bag, and then having to put everything back on and figure out a way to get my computer back into my bag after everything else had already settled into the space where my laptop had once been.
The fun began when I arrived in Dublin. I thought I had a decent sized layover in which I could stare out the window of the terminal and go, "So that's Ireland, eh?" for an hour. Not so. It didn't seem like we had been delayed at all in the flight from Glasgow, but when I arrived at the AA desk in Dublin, I, along with others from my flight, was berated for being very late for check-in, and that boarding for the flight to Shannon/Chicago was to begin in just a few minutes. The kind couple behind me argued us into check-in, and also managed to weedle one of the security guards into letting us through the first class security line. To that couple, whoever you were, (not like I actually expect you to read this, but hey, weirder things have happened...maybe you two are avid LJ browsers), thanks so much for everything. I felt so much safer and more confident even when I was just following you guys around on the way to the gate. For those few minutes, I felt like I wasn't so alone, so again, thank you.
The wait in Shannon was long to make up for the wait time I didn't have in Dublin. Not that I was very happy about that. I sat in the window, and by some freak occurrence, the sun was shining through the window and I was burning up. The flight to Shannon was the same plane and flight number as the flight to Chicago, but we had to get off the plane anyway to do "pre-customs" or something stupid like that.
Seven freaking hours in the plane to Chicago, but they played Talladega Nights and Elf so that was good, though I was tired from staying up all night and kept nodding off in the middle of Talladega Nights. Sadness. I ended up getting really confused and not knowing what was going on. When I finally arrived in Chicago, I had to go through customs but that wasn't as painful as pre-customs anyway. I just had to pick up my luggage, give a slip of paper to a guy, and then re-check in. The shock came when I found out that my 4:45 flight to San Francisco didn't actually exist and I wasn't able to get out of Chicago until 7. I hate air travel.
The upside of all of this was that I managed to get seated by some nice people, no crazy ones like on my flight from San Francisco to Chicago on the way to Glasgow. From Glasgow to Dublin I sat next to a guy who had lived in my student village who was pretty nice, and from Dublin to Shannon I was alone. From Shannon to Chicago I sat next to a guy who had done a semester abroad in Ireland, and while we didn't talk for most of the flight, when we did start talking, I found out he was a pretty nice guy. From Chicago to San Francisco I ended up sitting alone because as soon as they announced that there were empty seats on the plane, the snobby guy next to me picked up his crap and moved to the darkest corner of the plane to sleep with his eye mask.
So I made it back to the States in one piece, and all I've got left is a measly four hour drive from Santa Rosa to Eureka. I need sleep.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 19th, 2006
I'm living in a construction zone. Oh, sure, it was fun for a while but now it's really getting to me. It doesn't help that I got into a huge fight with my mother today over the whole thing.
Eureka is colder than it should be right now and I'm living in a half-finished house that only has heat when we can spare the fuel in the generator. Several times since I came back, my mother has given me the "at least we aren't living in a mud hut in Africa" speech, and she tried to give it to me again today. That's where the trouble began.
Now, while I could have handled the situation a lot better, I have to blame part of this whole thing on her. She asked me today whether I was all right living in the house, and apologizing if it was an inconvenience to me. I told her that I was irritated, but that it wasn't a big deal and I couldn't do anything about it anyway. She tried to give me the "starving in Africa" lecture again, and I interrupted her saying, "Mom, please don't." Long story short, it resulted in me trying to calm her down while she shouted at me about having respect for my family and not being so damned rude to everyone all the time.
In a normal situation I would probably just think, "Okay, she'll cool down and this whole thing is going to blow over eventually." However, the fight, for me, turned out to be a metaphor for my family falling apart, mainly because of my mother. She is alienating my siblings and I. She doesn't like that we're growing up and developing our own opinions. To her, the fact that we don't agree with every word she says means that she has failed as a parent. The four of us have grown up completely screwed up because of it, feeling guilty for things we know we shouldn't feel guilty about. She gets angry with us for "not respecting other people's opinions" when it is completely the other way around. Sure, we respect her opinion, but because we don't always agree with her she thinks that we don't. On the other hand, every time we try to speak out for our own beliefs she finds every way she can to shoot us down, even if she is full of shit. The problem is, even when she is full of shit, she has this uncanny ability to make us feel like maybe we're wrong.
I got in the car and drove around Eureka for a while in tears and eventually ended up hanging out with Kris for a while, and by the time I got back she had quieted down and was friendly with me again. Too bad this kind of thing is destined to happen again.
The problem is, if she carries on this way, she is going to confirm her own worst fears and drive us away from her. I wish that there were some way to talk to her about it, and we have tried coming up with gentle ways to bring it up, but it seems to me that she is far too set in her ways and that it would just end up speeding up the process. The last thing I want is to get to that point where I have my own family and never speak to her except for that obligatory "look how your grandkids are growing up" visit every couple of years. I hope and pray that we all find some way to prevent that. Who knows, maybe if we all disappear for a while she will realize her mistake and come around, and then we could all resolve our differences more easily than would be possible now. We'll see.
I hate growing up.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 23rd, 2006
I'm skipping forward a few days. Nothing much has happened except eating tortilla soup and watching Christmas movies in the motor home where my parents have been living. The house is coming along, and I can already tell it's going to be beautiful when it's done.
I've gotten all of my Christmas shopping and wrapping done. I had hoped that I would be able to get more than one present for everyone this year but it's getting harder and harder to figure out what everyone wants. Gifts have gotten so impersonal, too. I thought about trying to write everyone a story as well. We will see if I have time before the day rolls around. Oh well, at least I was able to get gifts at all. It's better than those stupid one-page comics I made everyone a couple of years back. Thank God for the Target card. And also the electronic advancements that have made it possible for all statements to be delivered electronically so that my mom won't know that I'm blowing a bunch of money that I don't have.
I'm finally in Seattle, but only after like twelve hours in the car with my parents. Now that was a good time. I suppose it could have been worse, but there was a lot of boredom, and a lot of awkward moments when I mentioned things that I didn't realize I shouldn't have mentioned until after I mentioned them. Oh well, it's over now, and it wasn't nearly as painful as it could have been. We haven't killed each other yet, plus I had a chance to finish The Sound and the Fury. Finally!
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 24th, 2006
Merry Christmas Eve, everyone, and Happy Birthday, Butt.
So today began with Mandy and Mom walking in the door and fighting like a pair of alleycats. I ducked downstairs to try and get away/catch up on old e-mails, but unfortunately, Mom had the same idea and spent the next half an hour downstairs crying with me being the only one there to console her. Fun. I'm sure it didn't actually help, since she is now just as disappointed in me as she is in the rest of the sibs. God help us.
I guess, after that blew over, it became a very pleasant day. I went out with Nick and Mandy to do some last-minute stocking-stuffer shopping, and everyone has been fairly civil. Maybe because it's almost Christmas. Too bad I still have to go to church later on tonight. That ought to be a rip-roaring good time...
Oh well, one hour isn't going to kill me. Plus, I really need to start working on my spiritual life.
I doubt I'm going to have time to work on a story for everyone. Oh well.
And now we're all caught up! Enjoy. Tomorrow, I get to write a sugar-coated Christmas message in order to please my extended family.