I had a telephone tiff with my father last night which has lassoed around my mind and dragged me out of bed in the still-dark morning. I'd like to exorcise my angst here but I'm finding it hard to think how I can relate it to the theme of 'cunt' without getting all Freudian on your arse. If only I'd chosen a broader blog topic like certain wise wordsmiths...
It's astonishing how easily this man can send my stomach somersaulting as though it belongs to His Daughter circa 1994. We've been getting along so much better since he moved waaaaaay out woop woop & I'm a grown woman now, damn it! *stamping foot for emphasis*
The topic was my plan to travel to Thailand in the very near future. Perhaps I use the word 'plan' more loosely than most, Dad certainly seems to think so.
Dad: Now, have you done anything further to organise your trip?
Me: Well, I haven't heard back about my visa yet so.... (actually I haven't applied for one yet but he has no way of knowing this unless he is a psychic psycho so he's got no cause to get narky about it right? Right!)
D: And how much money do you have? Because it is imperative that you don't end up in a foreign country without any money.
M: Well I'm not exactly sure yet 'cause there are a few things that aren't settled yet like I'm not sure if I'll get a visa so I'm not sure how long I can stay and I've applied for a loan but I'm not sure...
D: Exactly how much money do you have?
M: Well, about $this but then I owe A(my sister) about $this so...
D: That is ridiculous!
M: But if I get the loan...
D: Ridiculous! You can't just wind up in a foreign country with no money and no insurance.
M: Dad, I promised I'd get insurance...
D: It's unrealistic!
M: I haven't asked you for any money. I'm not asking you to support me...
D: You've got to learn to take responsibility!
M: You can't speak to me like that any more, Dad
D: Like what!? I never speak to you like this! (quote of the conversation, I reckon)
D: Ask anyone and they'll tell you it's ridiculous!
D: Unless they're a fool
D: A fool!!!
Then I dropped the handset & picked it up to hear his end clicking down - I'm sure he thinks I hung up on him, oh bluck.
I wasn't sure exactly what to do at this point - the occassion seemed to call for a good dose of bedroom-door slamming. Instead I ate some chocolate and indulged in some intricate daydreams about myself languishing in a hellish Thai prison having suffered some terrible calamity that had left me penniless and injured (though NOT disfigured in any way - a limp would probably be ideal). I would quietly and with great dignity bear my misfortune without once considering relinquishing my pride to call my father for assistance.
It must be quite stressful being a parent (even a distant one) to me. I am not exactly known for being practical. Of course I'd expect my father to bail me out if I got stranded - I just haven't really considered the possibility of getting stranded. I guess I'd better go and get myself organised.
*sulk, pout, sulk*