Why Florida Sucks

So, on Saturday, my mom threw herself a 60th birthday party.

You see, for years, my mom hads been complaining that no one does anything special for her for her birthday. So, several months ago, I innocently suggested to my father that someone ought to throw her a birthday party. He rolled his eyes. But apparently, he said something to her, because the next thing I knew, she was planning her party.

They decided to have the party in the house and invite their closest friends from God's waiting room their neighborhood. My mother sent out actual invitations. They ordered party trays, pastries, birthday cake. My dad spent two days cooking stuff. He even made a tuna mold in the shape of a fish.



Then I got in. For the next two days, I much moved furniture, picked up food from stores, and arranged things on the tables.

This is why I hate coming home. There's always something going on, and inevitably, I become my mother's maid. I want to relax, but sometimes, I work as hard when I come down here on my so-called vacation than I do when I'm at home.

I did get some time off for good behavior -- Friday night my mom made me go to dinner and a movie with some of her old people friends. I got to sit at the end of the table at the restaurant with my dad, listening to everyone yell at each other because they can't hear, and then I got to go watch Inside Man at the clubhouse. Of course, my mom wanted to sit in the front row.

When I told my sister, she and I agreed -- living in this place has turned my mom into an old lady.

Anyway, back to the party. My grandparents, sister, and uncle were the first to arrive. (My sister's husband had to work that night.) But my mom's friends arrived promptly on time for dinner. They pretty much ignored me and my sister -- when they weren't treating us like servants. One lady spilled red wine on the floor, and then yelled at my sister to "Get a mop!" My sister just gave her the evil eye. I mean, it's not like she was there to be the help, she was also an invited guest.

My sister was pissed off for the rest of the night -- and I can't say that I blame her. She did mellow out when her sister-in-law and baby niece stopped by, giving us and the dog someone to play with.

I've concluded that old people come to Florida after retiring and immediately develop a sense of entitlement. This is why they bump into me in grocery stores and never say "Excuse me." This is why they swarmed around the food we put out at the buffet without allowing my Nana any room to put together a plate for my grandfather, who wasn't feeling well.

This is why they picked the cannolis off of the pastry tray first.

Anyway, since the party, I've pretty much been hanging out with my family. I've done a little bit of reading, and a little bit of napping. I've watched some TV. I even played with the dog a bit. Of course, most of this has to do with the fact that there is nothing to do here. If I ever had to move back to Florida, I most certainly wouldn't live around here.

The worst part of the whole vacation, though, was my Nana. She's done nothing but give me a hard time about not being married. She gave me a whole spiel about how I work too much, and need to take time to find a husband, blah blah blah. She even talked about how my cousin found his last two girlfriends -- one is now his fiancee -- on the computer.

Until that moment, I had never really wanted to punch an 81 year old before. I turned to my grandfather and asked, "Are you going to let this woman talk to your granddaughter like this?" He laughed, but refused to intervene. I told my Nana that if she didn't stop, I wasn't going to come visit anymore -- and then she'd have to deal with my mom.

I know the woman means well -- but still. Back the fuck off. It's my life. As far as I'm concerned, she should still be encouraging me to be the first woman president or something. Nowadays, we tell girls from birth that they can do anything a man can do -- well, except play in the NFL -- but all of a sudden, I'm 30 and all of that should change? I mean, I might not have gotten married at 20 and had my first kid at 21, but I like to think that I've been successful in my own way. And if she wants more great-grandchildren (she has one), maybe she should be talking to my married cousin, or even my married sister.

So, this is why I hate Florida.