Why is that the same people who have not managed to throw away a single thing since 1973 have managed to lose not one, not two, but every single last one of my yearbooks?  Really!  And I went to a ginormous high school, so these are big yearbooks we’re talking about here.  The junior high ones aren’t exactly wee tiny either.  I think what happened is when my mom took over my closet and my sister’s closet, the yearbooks were tossed to make room for her crap.  Which she never wears.  I know this because she tried to pawn off clothes from the eighties on me that still had the tags attached.

And another question: if your cousin died, would you not make every effort to get to her funeral?  My parents aren’t going.  My sister and I are though.  Both of us have had to rearrange work schedules, make arrangements for pet care, reorganize personal schedules, and in my case, put my coach out of about ninety minutes of work (and considering he makes a dollar a minute off me, I’d call that significant, especially for a 23 year old.  I hate when I have to make him lose minutes).  My dad’s excuse is that he has a guy flying down for an interview.  So call him and reschedule the interview!  People understand.  Or have an underling interview the dude on Monday, give his impressions, and then my dad could phone interview him or bring him back down again later.  Whatever, you can make it work.  My mom’s excuse is two-fold.  One, she has a doctor’s appointment at 7am.  Well, Robbie’s memorial service isn’t until six pm because she wanted to make sure her friends could be there without losing work money.  Um yeah, I think there’s time to get there.  Two, her parents are coming into town because her sister is in town for some work thing.  They were all supposed to have dinner together.  Again, I think people will understand.  But no, they’re not going.  Then Kim and I (mostly Kim as I sat there like Silent Bob after giving one raised eyebrow at the beginning) got yelled at for being judgemental.  Kim said, “I’m not being judgemental.  I just think you should go to be there for Sarah and Kenny and to pay respects to the family.”

Mom said, “I talked to June and Bob and Lauree, and they all understood why we can’t be there.  You’re judging us in the worst way whether you think you are or not.”

Kim said, “I’m not judging.  I’m giving my opinion.”

And there is the rub.  My mother takes everything personally and as a judgement.  If I say blue isn’t my favorite color, then I must hate her decorating and therefore, I hate her.  Nope, I just don’t like blue furniture.  It’s country, and I don’t like country (though her blue is less country and more French).  Anyway, my mom can’t separate an opinion from a judgement.  It really makes me wonder what she thinks of other people when she doesn’t like their color choices or the same kinds of food.  She gets really offended when people don’t like the same kinds of food as she does.  It’s kind of weird. 

Anyway, I think it’s ridiculous that they’re not going.  I tried on Saturday to convince my mom that her parents would be understanding, but she kept interrupting me and talking over me, etc.  I know they know they’re in the wrong here, otherwise they wouldn’t be so defensive about it.  Maybe I am judging.  Okay, I’m definitely judging.  I just can’t believe they’re not making any effort to get down there.  It makes me sick.  All I know is that if people can’t come up with better reasons for not coming to my funeral, I’ll haunt their asses!