This weekend I went home for my brother's wedding. It was really fun. Almost everyone came down and the wedding was really beautiful. I flew down and had to wear a skirt on the plane (yuck for flying and flying uncomfortably) so that we could leave for the rehearsal right after the airport. It was really nice to see my nana and papa (grandparents). They're so cute. Nana's legs aren't doing so well though and she has to use her cane a lot more often and Papa's memory is going. On the way back home he was in the car with my sister, her husband, and their daughter and Nana drove with my mum and aunt. The weather was really bad and he kept asking how the weather was when they drove and picked him up even though they flew from Oklahoma. They just exchanged worried looks and responded that it wasn't bad. Then he kept asking if Ruth (Nana) was back there and they kept reminding him that she went in the other car. It's really sad to see them like this. They're both such sweet and wonderful people. Nana is getting impatient with him though. Today when saying goodbye to them before going off to the airport I told them that I would see them in two weeks. Then Papa looked at me funny and asked Nana and she exasperatedly reminded him that we were all going to meet in New Mexico for my aunt's graduation. She's kind of mean to him about it. I think maybe she's embarrassed or something.
On the way home from the rehearsal dinner I was riding in the car with dad and we got on the subject of exams and which ones I would have to take. I answered first with Intro to Beverages exam, then my public policy exam and he asked me what sort of things we talked about in that class and I told him that it was basically modern issues. Then I told him that currently we were studying the Iraq war. Then he asked me if I could tell whether my professor or fellow classmates leaned a certain way on the good ole political spectrum. I told him that he wasn't very biased in his lectures, which isn't really true (he is biased, but in a very subtle way) and then it happened. He asked me what my ideas were. I knew what he wanted me to say of course. He wanted me to say that I was conservative like him and that I wished so much that I could have gone to the tea party with Glenn Beck and that I supported to Texas and Rick Perry and whatever other bollocks. But I didn't. I just sat there in the car panicking and wondering if I could sense his suspicion or whether that was just my own paranoia. Should I tell him that I didn't think we should have ever gone into Iraq in the first place? Or that I didn't personally agree with Glenn Beck or the idea of his tea party despite my parents' pride that they went to it? Or that I thought Rick Perry was a complete prat? No. I just pretended that I hadn't heard and answered with the next exam I would be taking, History. Then I went on before he could open his mouth and revert back to the question and talked non-stop about how awesome my professor is and about the classes and his style of lecture and then exactly what we were learning at the moment in great detail. I'm such a coward.
Later when we were almost home we some how got onto the subject of Rick Perry and Texas maybe seceding and he said something that I very much disagree with. He said that we (as in Texas) didn't like where our country was going and how we needed a change. I didn't agree with this becasue we are changing, just not in the way he or other southerners want it to.
On friday night I came to the realisation that my family is rich. OK, if I'm being fair then I would technically have to say upper middle class, but still, that's quite good. Now I'm not saying this to brag. Quite the contrary because unlike normal humans who would be quite pleased with this information it kind of disturbs me. I don't like the fact that we are wealthy and living comfortably when millions of others, even Americans are suffering everyday. it just doesn't seem fair. Not that life ever is.
It's not, however, as if they don't deserve it. My parents I mean. They work extremely hard for their money. Harder than anyone I know. So I guess in a way you could say that it is fair. It still bothers me.
Also my family is on sort of a gun fetish. They keep buying them. I think they're afraid that President Obama is going to outlaw them soon or something. That evening before the wedding I was in my parents room getting assaulted with spray tan from my mum (I really had no choice in the matter) I noticed that there was a pistol (I think it was a pistol. I don't really know nor do I care to know) and I asked my mum if it was really necessary to which she replied with a very condecending look on her face, "uh, yeah". Oy. I really hate guns. Apparently I'm the only one who feels this way though.
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