Past few entries:

I suck, you suck, everything sucks - 2005-03-17

Hurray! - 2005-02-22

Good year coming - 2005-02-10

Fat - 2005-01-27

Bleh - 2005-01-11

Other lovely places to visit:

Andrew
Dave
Diaryland
Hangtime
Jackson
Jeffy
Loobylu
Lurgee
Marn
Neonjunkie
Out of order
She speaks good english
Spacegirl
Tanzy
Velcrometer

2002-08-26

Here I am, back in good old Toronto, living at home with my parents (who have been nagging me for the past hour to go to bed). After working abroad for two months, I felt like I was a changed person, that I would return and see and approach things differently from before.

I was wrong. Especially when I thought I had begun to appreciate men again.

(Yes, a dad story is approaching. Beware...)

We went out for a quick bite after my parents picked me up from the airport last night. I was still running on adrenaline (and good congee!) so I started telling them about my day (dragging my 28kg suitcase and backpack with three clinking bottles of liquor through the tube, then waiting four hours at the airport after my flight was delayed). And what was my dad doing the entire time? Staring at other tables and staring off into space. Gee, what a compliment. I know I'm long-winded, but it would be nice for people, especially parents, to feign interest in my tales after being away from home for two months (yes, readers who will be forced to see cranky old me next weekend, take heed to that warning).

I tried really hard to keep his attention by asking him about the situation with our car (the alarm remote is busted) and the new air-conditioner. It worked for awhile because he just went on and on about those things. But then as soon as my mom asked me something else about England, he would stare blankly off at a point on the wall again. The only question he asked me (actually, three times) was when I was planning to drive up to Calvin's cottage over the weekend so he would know when I would have the car.

When I got home, the only thing my dad was interested in talking to me about was how to disarm the car using the busted remote if the alarm went crazy. I was really tired by then (it was around 5am England time) so I asked him if he could show me tomorrow. Then he got into a hissy fit and said that if I didn't want to learn then I didn't have to, and stormed off back to his room. Like really though, who is supposed to be the spoiled brat here, the only child or the only child's dad?

Then tonight, my dad started gossiping about his coworker who's had all this live-in cheating boyfriends and now she's pregnant with a new boyfriend's child. It's like he knows more about her than me! So I commented on that, and his response was, "But she sits at the desk right next to me!" My mom couldn't help but snap back, "But this is your daughter!" He promptly changed the subject, as per the usual case when he knows he's goofed on something.

Someone commented that whenever I talked about how great my post-doc's husband is, I always stressed the fact that he's a great dad because spends a lot of quality time with his son. Can you blame me?

I think I am back to believing that men are scum. Even the lovely boys I've met on my trip will turn out to be terrible people once I get to know them long enough, I just know it.

(Isn't it great to have the bitter, resentful Sufu back? Didn't you just miss her so so much?)