In-Law Visit

My Husband and I just got home from a few days visiting his family in Chicago, Illinois.  His sister India and her husband Stuart live there with their daughter Lena (she just turned 2 years old).  So My Husband's parents and his oldest brother Holden drove in from Pennsylvania to meet us there.

It was...an experience, as all these visits tend to be.  Luckily for me I seem to be developing a sort of desensitization to their various antics.  My Husband's family has no boundaries (no topic is taboo, no closed door means privacy) and they are all, in general, very nice but angry people who would benefit immensely from therapy.

My Husband's mother is a tough woman who grew up in the Philadelphia projects with her single mother and two siblings.  Her father's abandonment left her with some serious scars that her marriage made worse.

My mother-in-law met and got pregnant by My Husband's father when she just barely 20.  My father-in-laws family, very traditional and more on the moneyed side, didn't approve of the match at all.  But all parties were Catholic and marriage was the only option.

My father-in-law is an alcoholic.  He's good-natured but incredibly selfish and was unfaithful to my mother-in-law during spats in their marriage (something I've never told anyone).  She became very insular and focused on her five children, glossing over their mistakes and trumpeting their successes.

Holden is angry and an alcoholic like his father.  He's handsome and charming but incredibly disappointed that his life did not turn out how he planned it (marriage and children) and is consistently jealous of My Husband and insecure about his place in the universe.

India has a judgemental streak a mile wide; which is slightly ridiculous since her family hated Stuart and are still disappointed their relationship is successful.  She was convinced I was not good enough for My Husband and, quite frankly, never let me forget it for their first three years we were dating.  Marriage and motherhood has mellowed her out, but she's still desperate for reinforcement that she's raising her child properly.

Middle brother Dorian and youngest Charles were not there, so I'll save their paragraphs for another time.

Anyway, the only real hitches in the weekend were the fact that India is pregnant again...a sore spot for me, since we're trying and have been so far unsuccessful.  My visit to my grandmother's grave (my father was raised in Chicago) was spoiled by everyone's insistence on accompanying me...nothing like trying to have a moment with your dead grandma while hosting some kind of macabre field trip.

Holden spent a good part of the next day pissed at me...India and Stuart invited their aunt & uncle (my father-in-law's brother) who live just outside the city, to dinner.  India and her parents took Lena to gymnastics and the boys were out drinking, leaving me alone in the house to prepare for guests.  The boys (Holden, Stuart and My Husband) were TWO HOURS late, leaving me alone with the aunt & uncle for about an hour in a house that wasn't mine and was devoid of most supplies necessary for entertaining. 

I called My Husband to see were they were and let him know I was put out about the situation...I guess he was upset enough to try and rush the guys home.  Apparently Holden didn't appreciate my "demands," that their time together was cut short as well as the fact that I only set out two plates of hors d'oeurves.  I overheard him complain to his mother that he and Stuart "set out everything" when they got home.

Oh, did I mention that Stuart had the list of antipasti India wanted out and where she wanted it?  Damn, I've gotta get my mind-reading abilities in check.

He's just a pissy man and I pretty much hate him right now.  In the past, similar feelings of disapproval about my behavior would have sent me into tears...I hate disappointing people...but I think I may be getting a little more used to their outrageous expectations and can deal with them more effectively.  I'm trying to focus on the fact that no matter what I do, someone is going to be mad at me...had I set up the table perfectly Holden would have complained to his mother that I'm full of myself and think I can throw a better party than them.

But just the idea that every single family visit is going to have some kind of instance like this makes me...exhausted.

The Strange Case of Carlos Estevez

Courtesy of http://www.vchannelnews.com/

I'm gonna hop on the bandwagon for a minute.

Most of us know "Carlos Estevez" as Charlie Sheen, the actor who is currently dominating all of the entertainment/gossip media outlets with Napoleonic zeal.  I was laying in bed last night listening to My Husband snore and I came up with a Charlie Sheen theory.

Don't get agitated, it's just a theory.  It's something to engage my brain when I can't sleep and it's your bad luck I'm capable of typing it up and posting it on the Internet for the world (or my current 12 viewers...10 from the United States, 1 from China and 1 from Singapore, hey guys!) to see.

I think Charlie Sheen is dying.  I think his foray to the hospital for severe abdominal pain a few months ago resulted in some terminal test results.  I think Sheen's long history of abusing recreational drugs and alcohol have caused a number of chronic conditions and culminated in pancreatic cancer.

So he gets this diagnosis and has himself a little reflection time.  He thinks about the survival rate for pancreatic cancer, the effects of chemo and the media coverage of Farrah Fawcett and Patrick Swayze's recent demises and deaths.  And honestly, I think he decided, "Fuck it.  I've got months to live and I'm gonna live them exactly how I want to.  I'm gonna say what I want, do what I want, live with a mini-harem and get my face on camera whenever I have the chance.  I'm not gonna keep going to a job where I hate the people.  I'm gonna suit myself."

I think the guy is James Deaning-it...living fast and dying how he wants to.  Not emaciated or bloated from futile radiation treatment.  Not in a hospital bed where he's too weak to get himself to the bathroom.  Not in rehab ruminating with a counselor about his many addictions and tormented with withdrawal symptoms.  He wants to be in his house: drunk, stoned or having sex with people who know EXACTLY what they're doing. 

He doesn't want to be pitied or fawned over or reminisced with.  Charlie Sheen doesn't want to linger and say anguished goodbyes.  He wants to sear himself into our memories as a shining example of talent and passion that flashes white-hot and burns out quickly. 

Courtesy of http://www.taramtamtam.com/

Maybe it's a still a secret because his doctor can't legally give interviews about his condition (doctor/patient confidentiality).  Maybe that's why he looks so pallid and skinny. Maybe Denise Richards knows and that's why she's been so supportive.  Maybe Brooke Mueller doesn't and that's why she hasn't.  Maybe that's why Martin Sheen referred to his son's addictions as a "cancer."  Maybe Charlie doesn't want to work because he's got a kickass life insurance policy that will provide for his five children the rest of their lives.

Am I projecting a Shakespearean attitude or a tragic Greek eloquence on a guy who may just have Swiss-cheese-crazy-brain from cocaine and booze?  Possibly.  Sheen could also be another Hollywood asshole who's cashing in on his notoriety Spencer Pratt-style.  But I like my Charlie better.  And I think he would, too.