My stepfather’s situation has either gotten worse or better. I’m not quite sure. Apparently the cancer had progressed really far, but it turns out he had a genetic defect which meant he was likely to find success with an experimental treatment. So they were going ahead with that…
But then I heard he and Chuckie got into a terrible car accident and now he has whiplash.
What made me laugh is that immediately after that I told my mother how the University had asked me to drive a van of my colleagues to an event, and then she proceeded to lecture me on what a bad driver I am. Now, I had already decided to say no because I hate driving, but I just find all of this nonsense. My little brothers have only been driving for about 10 years, but they have totaled 3 cars between the two of them and racked up an enormous amount of traffic violations.
In all the time I was driving, I got 1 speeding ticket, 1 DUI (from being asleep in the parking lot of the bar with my keys in the ignition), and 0 accidents. But somehow the myth persists that I’m the bad driver.
Just another facet of the “our eldest son is a failure” trope that my mother hearkens back to constantly. I’ve been on my own since 19, lived in and around the US, graduated with a double Bachelor’s Degree, lived in Europe and Asia, but I’m the failure when compared to my little brothers, both of whom lived with my mother until the beginning of this year, never went to school because they both had been homeschooled, and admittedly have good jobs working for a state government they don’t support because they are California Republicans.
How can I show my face when I am such a loser? (sarcasm voice)
In fact, when I was talking to her, she was in a rush because they were off to a Captain Cork vigil. I have nothing to say except that I was not surprised.
I had my contract renewal interview. It went well, I am officially employed in Thailand through 2027, which is a relief. However, I had to sit through a performance review during which I was told that people don’t really like me, I am spreading myself too thin by doing so many projects, and that I dress too sexy. At that last one, I really sat there completely nonplussed.
They told me that college professors aren’t supposed to be “trendy”. They told me that it’s inappropriate in Thailand for men to show their ankles (I swear to fucking God, that’s what they said) and when I told them that I’m too tall to buy pants off the rack at the proper length, and that’s why I have visible ankles constantly, I also told them they should increase my pay since they want me to get tailored clothes.
Afterward, I discovered they do that with everyone. They never say anything positive about any of the performance reviews (which were not about my actual job, by the way), so I should just ignore everything they say.
I had a dream last night. And it wasn’t a dream like normal. It was a dream like a premonition. I know those dreams. I have had them at rare occasions in my life. They are the catalyst that led me to Paris, to Cal Poly, and to Thailand. This one was very cryptic but also very clear.
The dream was odd because it was less vivid, it was more realistic. It didn’t have that dream-like sheen that so many dreams have. I was in a very dark, black-walled, wood-paneled room with many people, all dressed in black. Somehow out of nowhere, I started speaking German… I don’t currently speak German. There were flashes everywhere and I went out on the street and I was in Berlin, and the sun was out even though it was raining.
When I awoke, I knew exactly what it meant. I grabbed the small notepad and pen I keep by the bed and wrote it all down, rolled over and fell back asleep.
When I woke up, I still remembered the dream. Even now I can recall it. It never faded.
I know what I have to do now.
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