Birthday, Thanksgiving

So my birthday was Sunday. I am now 36. I don't feel that old at all. Didn't do anything special - watched the latest episode of 24. Thought it was pretty good.

The next day, I flew to Houston to spend Thanksgiving with my sister Kim and my parents, who drove down to Houston from St. Louis. I also finally got to meet Luis, Kim's boyfriend. Luis is certainly a nice guy and a nerd like me (he is a biostatistician). Sadly, however, I can't say it has been an altogether pleasant experience. My parents have spent most of their time obsessing at Kim's apartment. Consequently I have chosen not to spend a lot of time there. Kim is the child that they really wanted to have. Kim will call them multiple times a day, Kim will ask them for advice (and money), Kim lets my parents stay connected in her life. I don't. I talk to my parents maybe once a month, and then only when they call. I don't tell them the details of my life, because I know on some subconscious level that I can't. My mom has this annoying habit of wanting to solve everybody's problems. This wouldn't be so bad, but she combines this with an overinflated sense of correctness. So after she tells you how to solve your problem, she will then call back later asking how her solution worked out, assuming of course that you did it her way. When you have to explain, well, circumstances changed, and I didn't exactly do it your way, and, well, things are different now, she will want to know why you didn't call her back, or how come you didn't do it her way anyway. And I frankly don't want to explain every single decision in my life to her. So I simply don't let her get involved from the beginning. And talking to Dad is the same as talking to her. So conversations with them, in person, when I can't feign an excuse to end a phone call, are a challenge.



So, this afternoon is Thanksgiving dinner. I'm going to be thankful that it only happens once a year.