Vacacaca Part 3 in Book Two: The Fifteenth Year of the Third Millennium of the Common Era

So… clearly, once I get started, I just can’t stop. Time+Writing=LOADS of writing

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July 4: Independence Day

Day started as pretty much every day this week. Niece running around the cabin; waking up. I have two clean shirts left… both tight on me. As soon as I leave the bedroom… wife and SIL make fun of how the shirt looks. Off to a great start. Then Niece runs into a wall. Starts screaming her head off. INSTANTLY SIL or Brother (can’t remember which) says “Looks like somebody needs a nap. So Niece goes down for a nap. The lake is covered with boaters (holiday saturday and all) so we’re holed up brainstorming ideas. Meanwhile… I’ll admit it… I’m feeling downright depressed. I mean… my parents have been super baby focused… expected… my siblings have been… well, their jerky selves but added due to baby… and wife has been going back and forth from “pouty, crying, anger” to “critical, cold, and distant” the whole week. In other words… I’m getting to the point where I would (1) MUCH rather be with friends than family right now; (2) Rather spend 3 hours playing PS4 than another hour with my immediate kin; (3) prefer a sudden and unexpected romantic fling than anything presently going on. I’m just… blah. I’m feeling insignificant and unnecessary. I should get over it.

As wife wanted to do something, I suggested the Amusement Park. On the way there, I felt this quiet tension between us. As we walked, I specifically said “I know I can be off sometimes, but I feel like you’ve got this anger building.” She confessed that she was getting more and more pissed off because she didn’t want to do the Amusement Park. So I told her if she could tell me what she wanted to do, we’d do that. Out comes the classic I don’t know. THEN fine… to the Amusement Park. Then she said that’s why she was angry… she was angry with herself for not being able to figure out what she wants to do. We marched forward to the Amusement Park in an almost begrudging way. We got our tickets and I tried to explain to her why this particular amusement park was so important to me. It is the amusement park that I went to year after year with my family. This little 1950s Park hasn’t changed in 60 years. There is something novel, cute, and nostalgic about it. Plus… this Park was kind of big to my sexual revelation. Imagine a 12 year old (or 13, 14, 15) walking around in the summer surrounded by women in swim suits, bikinis, short shorts, tank tops… seriously! All the sexual energy!!! And… in retrospect… sexual energy and tension… added to my “Abstinence Dedication”… I had easily 11 years of sexual tension, expectations, needs, and desires. Back on track....

We got into the Amusement Park and did “The Bug House” a trippy thing where the walls spin but the chair you’re on stays in place. Then we did the old fashioned classic Tilt-A Whirl and a ferris wheel where the individual cars spin… at this point, the wife had shouted with glee and laughed out loud… but was feeling a bit nauseous. So we stopped and ate a CHOCO TACO! Then we hit a fun house, mirror maze, and roller coaster. Wife clearly was enjoying herself (despite herself). Then we ran over to the docks to try to catch the last Sail Boat ride but… sail boat had to pull in because there was too much traffic on the lake. So we decided to try to grab a canoe with Bro.

It was good. Lots of canoeing, despite the enormous wake. We got fairly far out and BOOM. Swamped it. As we were swimming it back, Bro said “Okay… that was mostly my fault. As in, I saw we might swamp and I took the opportunity.” It was more humorous than dickish. As we were docking, it happened again. Mostly… that’s all okay. Nothing got wet that couldn’t get wet. BUT… that was my last clean shirt that I don’t mind wearing in front of family. So… starting over at the beginning of the clothes I brought and wore! lol. And for a moment, I figured… wow. There’s my brother. Still a dick and a bit of an asshole, but fun and willing to hang. As we were walking back to the cabin… we ran into a beer tasting event. SCORE! So we started beer tasting. Wife hadn’t eaten today… which started to become apparent. Then she walks over to me and says “Hey, look over at that lady.” Apparently, one of the employees was wearing street clothes… black yoga pants and a turquoise embroidered tank top. My wife says, “Check her out. She is so pretty.” And… she was. Great ass, good face, tight body… I almost started getting an erection. In a wet swim suit. It may be difficult for a woman to understand but… that is a situation you DON’T want to have happen. So we walked back.

(Sarcasm) Surprise surprise… (sarcasm off)… when we got back to the cabin SIL was putting Niece to a nap. So… as soon as we walked in and Bro found that out he imperiously said “Silence!” To make sure nobody made a sound until she was asleep. GUH… and it really hit home. Bro and SIL are new parents who have really never gone on vacation with their daughter. They are freaked out which brings out the worst in them. I understand. But.. I don’t have to like it. I just have to hope (strongly) that… eventually… things won’t be like that. And realize that, if things stay this way forever… I don’t have control over it and I may just have to make specific steps to avoid it. Meanwhile, Wife specifically tells me that being cajoled into going to the Amusement Park, which she enjoyed, made her more amenable to going on the Canoe, which she enjoyed, which made her more amenable to joining the family for the Beer Tasting… which she enjoyed. So… it’s that difficult, weird, awkward, and very unfun position of… for some reason my wife has to be forced into getting out of her head, enjoying herself, and then eventually… maybe… if we’re lucky… she’ll actually have a good time. Obviously I find that unsustainable and unacceptable for our relationship. But… it is something to know. PS- if you are confused why I find it unacceptable… imagine caring about someone deeply and wanting them to be happy… imagine them being happiest when they wear a red t-shirt… so you buy them red t-shirts because you want them to be happy… but they refuse to wear red, they will only wear green… even though wearing green doesn’t make them happy at all… and no matter what you do, they won’t wear red. THAT is my situation. LOADS of Red Shirts, LOADS of opportunities to wear Red Shirts… and she just won’t. Maybe the metaphor is dumb. Maybe I’m not explaining it well.

Of course, after the beer and no food Wife is more accepting of me and my (simple, basic, child-level) affectionate touches (like holding hands). And that sets MY mind going again… how in order for her to have fun, be herself, or be in anyway open to almost any aspect of marriage… she has to have alcohol. Maybe I’m reading too much into it but… it is a concern I’ve had before and this trip has definitely maintained that concern.

Right before Wife and I leave to try and have more adventures; I make a quick sandwich. The only sandwich materials left are for PBJ, requiring me to use a knife. As I may have mentioned earlier, my dad was specific with me to wash my dishes. So, I washed the knife in a trickle of water in an attempt to be quiet. BAD MOVE DURING A NAP. SIL is staring daggers at me like I just slammed a door. Seriously, Bitch? Are we still doing this? After how many naps… necessary and unnecessary? After how many days of 7 people living in this cabin? Fuck. Definitely glad that this is all over tomorrow at noon. Love my family. Really do. But… cramped spaces, bitchy people, and Bro/SIL freaking the ever living fuck out… I’ll be glad to get to my depressing every day life.

Wife and I hit the amusement park again. We rode a few more rides but one ride in particular got Wife to absolute max near-vomit levels. We took a long break and started walking back to cabins.

SO

MANY

LEGS

And as that was going on, I make the mistake of asking wife the age old question that never gets an answer. Perhaps the reason why I never get an answer is because Wife knows the answer isn’t a good one. The question: “Clearly, my preferences are obvious. But what do you find attractive in a man?” Her response? My brother. So I said that “being fat” isn’t really an issue since his belly is bigger than mine. Granted, he has thicker arms and legs but he has a bigger belly. Wife said that it isn’t just his physical appearance but his personality. Uhm… giant domineering asshole? Yeah, kinda. Wife would rather have a rough, aggressive, sarcastic domineering asshole than a sensitive, informed, authentic inquisitive people-pleaser. Hey- I understand why some people would prefer one type to another… but it makes me wonder why she married me. Because… her behavior and personality pretty clearly shows that she doesn’t find me attractive. Maybe I’m reading too much into it here. But… considering our relationship (sexual and non); I don’t think it is too much of a stretch to think she doesn’t find me attractive. We got her back to the cabin and had Wife lie down a bit to feel better after the dizzying ride. Then it was off to the 4th of July Family Picnic.

Where, I have to say, as thoroughly abrasive as my SIL can be… sometimes I absolutely need her! I have an Aunt… direct relation through marriage… who is as liberal and self-involved as the day is long. Seriously, this is a woman who would (and has) turned a Thanksgiving Prayer into a campaign speech… and not even a campaign speech for herself but for whatever candidate she thinks should win. She and her family arrived yesterday so (thank God) we haven’t had to deal with her that much. Today as we are setting up the picnic… Aunt starts freaking out. She has a salad but it can not be placed with other salads, nor desserts, nor appetizers. It must be with the main course because it MUST be eaten… it would be a crime for any of us to miss out on her delicious salad and… oh, we don’t have any plates? Uhm… Aunt, we have a lot of plates over there. “No no no, I never eat on disposable plates, no no no, it wouldn’t do.” It took her all of 4 minutes for me to reach my limit with her… a new fucking record. A record, I’m fairly certain, that has stood for the last 8 years at least. So I had to excuse myself from her presence and I went to play with Niece. SIL said, “That salad bullshit? I was so tempted to take a handful and just throw it on the ground right then and there!” It made me feel better. As with many things about SIL… she’s strong, she’s super critical, and whether by look or by word can cut you like a knife… but as long as her target is somebody else… not that bad of a woman.

Dinner was good. Good food, good conversation. Our weekly End of Reunion Awards ceremony. We even all brought out everything we still had be it food, alcohol or soda. Then… as apparently all things do… things went south. Aunt (yes, crazy aunt from above) distributed 16 Page Song Books she had made… and demanded we all sing them. Every page. Funny thing is… usually she gets her way on shit like this because it is only HER and my mom… my mom who is so thoroughly afraid of this woman that my mom becomes an entirely different person around her! This time? You have 30 people… and you are going to try to force them to sing your song book just because you want them to? Back. The Fuck. Off.

So instead A 2nd Cousin, his niece (Tab) and nephew (Ty), and I went to the volleyball court to try to teach Ty how to play. He is ten and knows his stuff but needs some work on bump, set, spike. Then along comes my new not-favorite family member. Last year my Twin Cousin married a boy that she met through e-Harmony. I won’t hide it, I’ve always thought this guy was a sleazy douchebag. Luckily, he arrived yesterday with Crazy Aunt, so I didn’t have to put up with his shit the whole week. But damn. Hell, he was lecturing the much older (much wiser) Police Officer in the family during breakfast this morning… because, apparently, working for Enterprise gives you a better grasp on things than being a cop. Douche! Anyway… while we are trying to teach Ty volleyball, Douche comes by and makes an offensive statement. For the purposes of this article, pretend my last name is Smith. Pretend that the family reunion I am attending is for the Smith family. Douche comes up, watches us trying to teach a 10 year old volleyball, and says “So, I’m guessing sports isn’t really a Smith Strong suit, eh?” The fuck? How in the hell are you going to walk up and justify mocking a ten year old trying to learn the game? Sonofabitch! Frankly, I had to take a walk before I decked the fucker.

So, I walk a little ways. And run into my Grandfather. Haven’t seen him all week, he’s 83 and I’m thrilled to talk to him a little… despite his approaching senility and his deaf-even-with-a-hearing-aid. So I’m talking to him when my 16 year old 2nd cousin with Down Syndrome runs up behind me and starts blowing a party horn in to my ear. Over. and over. and over. and over. Meanwhile, I’m trying to hold a conversation with my grandfather. Then, over the damned horn, I can vaguely hear my mom calling my name. Over. and over. and over. and over. More insistently and more angrily. Finally, I ask my grandfather to wait a moment, turn and shout (louder than anticipated) HOLD ON! then went back to talking to my grandfather. As I was finishing the conversation with him, my mom (finally) decides to walk our direction and I see that her face is a mixture of anger and hurt. WonderfuL! After I finish talking to my grandfather, I run up to my mom and apologize and ask what she wanted. Almost in tears, she says “We’re all a little on edge tonight due to (Aunt). I’ll get over it, I just need some time.” And walked on. Like… me yelling at her was the worst thing I could do. FUCK! When insane controlling maniacs are in the family… why do we give them so much power? Why don’t we fucking deal with reality and say, “Guess what- fuck off!” But no… my mom has to let Aunt Nutso ruin her world at every opportunity!

Finally, I ask my wife what the big deal is and wife tells me that all of the alcohol, soda, and drinks that we brought that weren’t consumed… are missing. Someone just fucking took our stuff. Seriously? We’re family and we can’t just… not steal each other’s shit?! So I told wife my feelings were 10 to 1 that Douche took ‘em because that is 100% the type of person he is. After all that emotional baggage bull… I had to go back to the cabin and just… chill. I can’t believe that Crazy Aunt Nutso’s appearance (1) ruin’s my mother so hardcore; (2) brings with her Douche and all of his bullshit; (3) Makes the family so God Damned on edge that even the fun stuff gets co-opted for whatever crazy Agenda she has. So right now I’m in my cabin damned happy that tomorrow is Check Out Day. Don’t get me wrong… I still believe that family is the most important thing in the world. I still believe in honor and the honor of family. But… fuck. Between Bro and SIL acting like Niece shits gold coins… and my Wife letting the neurosis that is ruining our marriage almost ruin this trip… and Aunt Nutso and Douche.... I mean… I have a great and wonderful family. My 2nd Cousins and that entire line will do amazing things in this world. But my side of the family? Shit. We’re no better than the majority scum that need to be wiped out to save this rotten blue marble.

Happy 4th. More than likely see you all back when I get to Omaha!

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I’ll just say… I desperately, desperately hope I get this job in Adel. Not just because I need a job, not just because I need something to do, not just because government level benefits would (hopefully/likely) help Wife and I get some individual therapy… but because so many of my friends are in Des Moines. I could spend a Saturday night bar crawling with friends… or bowling or table top gaming. I miss these things. I miss being with friends. That is probably why the Cards Against Humanity nights have been the best part of the trip for both my wife and I. I get to enjoy playing and hanging with family; wife gets to enjoy drinking and laughing.

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Last updated July 05, 2015