Okay, so on further contemplation I have decided not to do a review of THE NUMBER 23, not that it wasn’t good and worth the dissection, just that the inspiration to do so only lasts me for a few hours after watching it and that was last week. I find that without inspiration, my reviews come out sounding pretty pointless.
With that being said, again, everyone needs to see 300. It was amazing.
I’m seriously starting to worry about myself. It’s getting to the point with me that I’m only looking forward to my days off (or more recently, DAY off). See the issue is that Steve and I had planned to go to Terrace on my birthday, and leave the next day for this roadtrip extravaganza his parents had their hearts set on (when truth be told, we’d prefer to stay home) to go to see the filmset of Corner Gas (boring much?). So they decided that after we’d booked the appropriate time off and booked our flights, that it wasn’t long enough. So now I have to go through the complication of knowing I cannot afford to take 15 days off, and in addition it will cost me $60 to change our flight reservations. We tried to appeal to them to change their plans, to remove a stop from their itinerary to fit the thing into the slot of allotted time. Alas, no. They would not bend, they were completely immutable, to the point where the most abbhorred CANCELLATION word was brought up (not that 12 days off to do whatever we want in Greater Vancouver is like a tragedy or anything).
So I’m unhappily sandwiching Steve between what I want (which is actually what he wanted too) and his complete inability to stand up to his parents. Because they’re being self-centered, pompous jerks, he expects me to swallow my very legitimate concerns about my expenses (since with the wrinkle of my very high medical deductible I’m paying through every conceivable orifice to retrieve the medication I require) and the lack of incoming money I will face for an ENTIRE pay period. Or worse. I could get two HALF paycheques. The problem? I live with him, so I will pay dearly for whatever unhappiness I cause him. So finally I fold, with the exception that if I cannot pay my bills, then he’s paying them, and that there’s no way in hell after being commanded to book our flights immediately in the first place, and being told that the dates are fine, that we are paying the penalty to change the reservations. It is quite likely I will be totally broke on this trip.
That, and I have full discretion to be as miserable as I want.
I wanted to see my Dad. I really wanted to see my Dad. We haven’t been talking regularly since I moved out, and for the first time in three years, he cares what happens to me. Ever since the surgery, we’ve had a fully open dialogue going again. I missed it. That, and the next time I see my Dad, it could be the last time he sees me. He’s going blind. It’s heartwrenching, when faced with that knowledge, to make a decision based on such wanton self-indulgence by another party’s part. I seriously hope that after all of their preaching, they karmically get what’s theirs.
I’m going back to bed. Before I cause a storm.