Family Vacation 2k9: the Sociology of Mom

well its been a while since ive posted so the people who read only this to stay in touch with me are probably very worried on my whereabouts...and im interested to understand what their image of me is if they only get a taste from my cyber life. i mean, everything i write in this private journal is 100% accurate. i hate people who employ hyperbole....they are straight up liars in my book.

speaking of which, you should buy my book here: GRAHAM'S BOOK

instead of conventional packaging, each book is delivered to the new master chef in a big jar of mayonnaise. just screw off the 10 inch wide cap, dunk hand in vat, pull out book, lick clean, turn to page 32, and start making your very own spaghetti and meatmayonnaiseballs. now, for all you health nuts out there (martha), you can turn to page 67 for a 'lighter' meal:

4 tablespoons of mayonnaise

4 skittles

dont throw the tablespoon in the sink because this is pretty much what youll be using. its called the "graham's 4 bite anti-depressant". total calories: 510. my advice is not to strain the body in any way because your cholesterol will be the through the roof.

dangerous? maybe. BUT pages 390-400 are dedicated to troubleshooting body malfunctions. youre gonna need to read those pages.

ANYWAYS, i feel so stupid self-promoting my book. i dont mean to squeeze my own pepper here, but...im pretty proud of my first book.

aside from writing and publishing my book, my family came to vancouver from august 9th to the 18th for our family summer vacation extraordinaire. in the midst of the christmas 2k8 disaster, we managed to plan our vacation in vancouver. we thought that since i was already up here and taking summer school, it wouldve been to hard to figure out summer schedules to work out with my parents and two siblings....steve and martha.

this rift in my normal life was filled with family funtimes (clownings) with a dash of arguments and awkwardtimes. my mom, though thoroughly trained in the arts of being a southern belle, sometimes exhibits a complete lack of social awareness. but at least she looks great! same haircut since she won miss western high in high school.

so since you are asking the question, "how is mommy j socially unaware sometimes?" then i have no choice to present the family vacation not in chronological order.

incident 1 of 902938457:

as i was driving the rental car around vancouver and various tourist-friendly places around vancouver, i realized that i was an adult. i know there are several different questionable factors that go into the determination of an adult, such as:

voting age, drinking age, puberty, homeowning, financial independence, out of school, being a parent, killing a lion, various other tribal rites etc etc, the list goes on and on but i was never sure if i was an adult or not until this trip. upon extensive investigation, i have come to the conclusion that the only way you can be an adult is IF you are the one that drives in a vacation.

this responsibility is only deemed fit for a full-fledged adult. and once you are an adult, you must pronounce the word 'adult' correctly: with the emphasis on the A syllable rather than the U. not uhdUlt but A-dult. the A is like the A in 'apple'....you would never say, "excuse me martha, the uh-pple pie that you refuse to eat because you are some sort of health nut has now managed to make its way all over evas face"

so as adult me was driving the family-filled rental car to victoria, bc for a day or two, we had to take a ferry. we end up being late to the first ferry because we just had to stop in a white spot restaurant which is like a canadian classier Denny's. the breakfasts we had were simply shameful and my dad and i felt awful afterwards. my sister of course filled her new stomach...she replaced her God-given stomach with an empty hacky-sack she stole from a hippie when he was cleaning out his bong with diet coke...with a piece of toast and a couple bites of yogurt. im hesitant to say "bites" when talking about yogurt but "sips" definitely doesnt work and "slurps" might not be academically acceptable which shouldnt bother me since i care SO MUCH about being academically appropriate in this blog.

anyways, God told me he was thoroughly disappointed in my sisters decision to use a used hacky-sack when he clearly created the beach ball as a suitable stomach replacement. quit laughing. start learning.

we finally drive onto the ferry along with several other motor vehicles on a collective quest for victoria on vancouver island. we park and begin to get out of the car in order to go upstairs and snag prime seats on the ferry. and let me tell you, snagging prime seats on a ferry is serious business. my dad, sister and i were out of the car ready to go in seconds...my mom however, likes to take her sweet time getting out of the car. it doesnt matter where we are or where we have to be, my mom WILL spend 10 minutes deciding which visor is best for the specific occasion.

so as my mother was meticulously gathering her things to put in her zesty summer tote bag, my sister and dad made a run for it. i, of course being the the favorite of the family, stayed so my mother wouldnt be alone. things were looking encouraging when one of her legs was out of the opened door. however, this is where things got socially awkward.

since her door was open, she was blocking the back door of another car beside us. the drive had walked around and was waiting for my mom so he could get into his car and retrieve his child from the car seat. this particular stranger wasnt prepared for my mom's inability to exit a car in race car drivers speed, much less 10 minutes.

now, this could have been an innocent mistake, HOWEVER, my mom made eye contact with the guy waiting and completely knew he was waiting on her. this social exchange of recognizing each other's purpose and existence would lead to a couple of normal responses:

1) "oh sorry, i didnt know you were there, let me get out of the way" and then grab your things to exit the car so you arent in the way

OR, if you plan on taking a nap first or finish a 1500 piece puzzle before exiting a car like my mother, then this response is acceptable:

2) "oh sorry, i think ill be a while, let me shut this door so you can get your things for a minute" and then pull your leg in and shut the door.

unfortunately, my mother took the unorthodox road which was to smile and stay put. the guy stood patiently as i apologized and begged my mother to hurry up or at least shut the door. "oh that isnt that awkward of an incident" you may say...well this lasted FOREVER! even one minute of two strangers staring at one another with "what the hell is going on?" faces feels like an eternity.

i was pleading with my mother but apparently gathering the right possessions requires full attention and the need to block any outside sound or influence. as i was speaking to her, i could just see her looking into her tote bag, not acknowledging my existence (much less the poor miserable and surprisingly patient stranger), mouthing to herself, "i wonder if im going to need my hairdryer for this hour long ferry ride.."

internal humiliation burns began to weaken my body and the rest of my strength was dedicated to informing this stranger, who actually had time to makeshift a stool out of the stinks and trash he found around his car, about my mothers car-exiting condition and apologizing for wasting his life.

as the last water buffalo was crammed in the spacious tote bag, my mom finally exited the car. SUCCESS! finally the guy was able to get his child, who was now 13 years old, out of the car to be reunited with the family.

as i was questioning my mom about her thought process in that situation, she said, "well i knew he was there!" to which i responded with, "yes i know, which makes things worse!" but she explained that she translated the courteous smile from the gentleman on their first eye contact exchange to mean, "oh hello ma'am, i need to get my child out of that seat and your door is granting me sub-optimal access, but thats ok, take as long as you want."

since i was an Adult now, i thoroughly and firmly explained to my mother of her social faux pas. so which is replied, "i dont know why you are yelling at me."

i ended my lecture on social courtesy and manner with, "quit crying. start learning."

we finally begin out voyage to the upper decks to take in the beautiful british columbia scenery. suddenly we are halted by a sea of people returning to their cars. whats this? then my dad and sister appear to inform us that the ferry ride was over. great. all that effort for NOTHING.

The Wax Mistake, continued

so there i was, standing in the nunnery kitchen with a back that would make a baby say, "damn i need to shave my behind". i was smiling more because the pain was over. my skin was rosy red and starting to inflame. of course the blood was still squirting because every open pore was like a busted door in the jail cell of grahamskin prison. ESCAPE!

i thought i was done. no problem here. then nomi looked at me and said, "well now its weird because your back is bald and your chest is full"

then the discussion of waxing my chest was hot on everyone's minds. except mine of course. no no no no no nono noooooo i pleaded but they kept arguing for it. eva and nomi were CERTAIN that if they just wax off the top corners then it wold look so much better. i, knowing the ways of the chest hairs, KNEW this was a bad idea. the idea of a unnatural line across the top of the chest hair was the worst idea ever. because it would look so out of place. people would see it and say, "well i know thats not natural, did he wax only part of it....to try to shape it? what a freak!"

however, they wouldnt budge on their foolish idea and insisted i was wrong. "it would look so much better if those top corners were gone..." thollander decides to chime in by siding with the idiot ladies.

"COME ON! THOLLANDER! you know damn well that this is a horrible idea!" i yelled

"oh yeah, most definitely" he replied

i hate thollander because all he wants is misery in my life. nomi and eva were just foolish but thollander knew better!

finally i cracked and decided to let them wax the top corners so they would KNOW that they were wrong and i was right. and they would finally see how STUPID it was going to look. nomi was giddy as she was nuking the lava wax. hated life i did.

as she applied the liquid death to my chest, any sort of endorphins that were running through my adrenaline filled body were exhausted during the back episode. the pain was so much worse. she ripped away. stood back. and busted out laughing because of how dumb it looked. OF COURSE IT LOOKS DUMB! i called it. i would love to say i won this argument but i feel i lost since chest hairs were ripped from my body.

i wanted to leave it. i was done. this was so stupid.

but nomi's peer pressure kicked in again and at this point, i wasnt thinking clearly at all. i was a mess. im pretty sure she had in mind that she was going to take on my whole chest inch by inch.

"theres that little part in the middle that pops out above your shirt, let me get that at least.."

fine. whatever. dammit.

she ripped throat.

everyone is laughing at this point as i go to the mirror to assess the situation. was it halloween? my chest looked like a hideous heart. this asymmetrical line that ran across the top of my chest signified the level of hatred i had in my body. when people say, "ive had it up to here!" they have to make some indicator with their hand but this is never an accurate portrayal. i, on the other hand, had a distinct line that you could see.

coincidentally, it was the same level of dignity that id lost.

this looked horrible. i had to think quickly for a way to redeem this tragedy. uhh, lets make it into a joke! we need to make it look horrible so people know its a joke rather than onlookers trying to figure out what the hell i was doing because NO ONE shapes their chest hair!

i act as if i walk around with my shirt popped off all the time and this would be a serious problem BUT nonetheless, if i find myself at the beach soon, then i want to be prepared to impress all the beach babes that have augustinian metaphysics.

in my stupor, i threw out the suggestion of taking away my sternum! TAKE IT AWAY! whatever, we needed to make it look obvious that it was not serious! ANYTHING! nomi's vietnamese hands (she isnt vietnamese, she just has vietnamese hands....apparently...ask her) stoked my zaftig chest with hot dripping wax. my sternum was covered. the density of the sternum forest was impressive....one could get lost in there....dreams fulfilled.

she grabbed the waxing strip and yanked upwards to the sky. now, my back was a bleeder but my chest apparently is hemophiliac. wow, it seemed like every single pore was ready to BLEED! and bled it did. it was miserable. and to make things worse, my sternum forest was apparently quite resilient like my phoenix wings. because nomi had to go over that spot at least 4 times. great.

we got done and took a look at the "progress". it was horrible. i had two perfect square patches of hair on each titte brother. although the "joke" was the objective, it seemed like attaining it wasnt satisfactory. i looked/felt like an idiot. thollander was quite pleased with this new look of mine.

the parts of my chest that were waxed were already WAY WORSE than my back and honest, my tattoo was less painful than this. i really didnt expect there to be so much blood stowed away behind the skin of my chest. i already knew my pectorals werent muscle but i just assumed the cavity was filled with some sort of semi-solid carbohydrate, not blood. but i guess im learning something new everyday.

so im standing in the kitchen with nomi, eva, and matt around me laughing at me. i really wish someone could see in the window because they would have seen what looked like a shirtless rhinoceros standing in the middle of a laughing parade. clearly being mocked for its rotund figure.....and of course its abnormal hair growth.

after several HOURS(minutes) of debating...we finally decided to just go ahead and take the rest of the chest off. i was really reluctant but gave in to the three's recommendation. i sat down and nomi proceeded to heat up the wax once again.

she painstakingly worked her way down my chest. loving every minute of it. and by "painstakingly" i mean, she was working hard and i was receiving all the pain. she approached the hair around my nipplez and was delicately working her way around my nipple as to avoid the potential of a nipple removal. i have to hand it to my chest...it LOVED its hairs. it fought good and hard to keep the hairs but after the 3-4 times nomi had to go over the same spots, the chest would cry blood for each hair. EACH HAIR.

nomi was getting impatient with the need for a tedious nipple application so i just saw her stare at my nipple, touch the outside of it with the wax application strip, hesitate, and then just smear a big glop of wax across my nipple. well clearly she didnt want to bother with it anymore. luckily it wasnt ripped off. because, you know, as a guy, i really need those and all.

so the event was finally in its closing and i felt great. "great" means "waves of shame" in this context. i hate my life.

this was a few weeks ago and my back is still covered in red bumps. awesome.