Life ^ (-1)

So here's a segment of some semi-personal information from my life that I find pretty humorous:

I have an ex-step-dad. His name is Frank. He divorced my mom in 2006 because of slight marital complications, but mostly because he couldn't tolerate living under the same roof as me. I was largely the reason they got divorced. Frank stepped into my life when I was about three or four, with a few people in my family claiming that "he was more of a father to you than your own." I tend to disagree with this.

After the divorce, my mom and Frank remained the closest of friends, and now you could find them acting in much the same way they would before 2006. Yes, I'm saying that four years after the divorce, my mom and ex-step-dad are practically in love again. And although he isn't such an intolerable person now that him and I aren't residing in close proximity to each other (he currently resides in an apartment complex well beyond my school district), my experience with him from about 1994 - 2006 was absolute hell. Perhaps I was just being a child in a few instances, perhaps not. That doesn't matter. The bitter truth is, no matter how much effort we both contributed to make amends, we always loathed the presence of each other.

Frank has a friend named Ron who lives in Florida. Ron is very wealthy, and often, he likes to accomplish his good deed of the year by flying Frank down to Florida. Frank wasn't ever wealthy himself, being on disability for the greater portion of my memory with him, so the opportunity for him to take vacations were few and far between. He pretty much had "up north" (his parents owned a cabin near Lincoln Lake that he often enjoyed retreating to when he was too pissed off and wanted to fish) or Florida. Those were the two biggest reasons Frank would ever leave the house for more than a half-day, since he didn't have a job.

Thus, when these vacation opportunities arose for him, my mind went into party-mode. The amount of happiness and relief I felt with him being gone and out of my hair for any small amount of time, leaving me free to play my video games and watch TV unburdened, to stay up well past my established bed time (when I knew I was old enough to disregard it), and to speak my mind how I saw things was tenfold the relief of answering the last question of the last exam of your last college school year. I absolutely loved it when he was gone.

So NOW, in 2010, well beyond those moments in the past, I live alone with my mom in the same house that we moved into after the divorce. I love my mom, I really do, but if there's any one statement I can make about her at the top of my head: most annoying person ever. Perhaps that is just because I have to see her everyday at the same frequency I saw Frank, since she is also on disability. Perhaps not. But now, since Frank lives in his own apartment complex away from my house, my mom frequently goes over to his place, watches movies, eats dinner, and does whatever two divorced people in love with their divorcee do. Right about here is where people can and often do start cracking jokes, but they phase me none. At least it gets the woman out of my hair, and I have plenty of hair to get tangled up in.

So here's the funny part. My mom informed me yesterday that Frank is flying out to Florida this coming weekend to visit Ron and go to the racetrack. He will be gone the entire weekend. Thus, my mom asked, "do you have any clothes you need sewn up? Since Frank's going to be gone all weekend, I'm going to be stuck at the house with nothing to do." And right about here is the place where I would admit, if I firmly believed in the concept, that I'm going hell. Because as nice of a gesture that we can all see that as, I could only think, Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Why do you have to leeeeeeave, Frank?

Too damn variant. Damn you, life. Once again...