Here we go! It’s the day I go back home. Plane leaves at 2, should be at the airport around 5, should be back in Albany around 8. I HAVE MISSED YOU ALBANY. Next vacation is at the end of July. You’re not going to like that one as much. It’s in the mountains and there’s no internet or phone service up there. You’ll hear from me about 3 times in a whole week. I KNOW. I’ll try to bank blog posts so you still have them, though. I love you just that much. I know, right? Aren’t I just the best? Sure I am.
This morning has been a nightmare of Dad running around like a crazy person packing and packing and freaking out and checking and then double-checking drawers to make sure nothing’s in them. I asked him, “Did you even put anything in the drawers?” and he said no, but he still keeps checking them like things might have sneakily hidden themselves in the drawers when his back was turned. This has been going on for two hours now. It’s utterly exhausting to watch. I’m hiding with my laptop behind my pile of luggage waiting for it to be time to go.
Now we are in the hotel! It is just a basic hotel. However, Dad is SO EXCITED ABOUT IT. It’s adorable to watch. He’s so excited about all the free things in here. Like the little shampoos and conditioner and, MOST EXCITING, the little coffeemaker with a little packet with sugar and creamer and a stirrer. Every five seconds he’s all, “AMY AMY LOOK LOOK LOOK” and it’s making me laugh the hardest. What’s funny is, I think probably in his life he’s stayed in a lot more hotels than I have. Yet he’s still five years old when it comes to staying in hotels. FREE LITTLE SOAPPPSSS!
Mostly I’m excited about the free wifi, which is better than the free wifi in the condo. The condo did not like me to use my phone or my laptop unless I was sitting in a certain place and facing a certain angle. Here, there’s a teeny desk! And I have all the bars! This is great. Yay, Comfort Suites, I highly approve! Free wifi and a teeny desk like I’m playing executive!
Also, Dad thinks we should go to Hooters for dinner, because “that’s a good family establishment.” I said I was on to him and didn’t want to go to the titty bar but he was welcome to go to the titty bar and I’d walk across the street to the Cracker Barrel and have some nice chicken fingers. Then he was all, “WHAT? The mascot of Hooters is an OWL. You like owls! Owls are for families. They’re ANIMALS! You LOVE ANIMALS!” Then I tried to explain that owl was a metaphor, or maybe a euphemism, on a couple of levels, and he wasn’t fooling ANYONE.
“What? That’s just a nice owl,” he said. So I attempted to explain that not ONLY were the owl’s eyes representative of boobs, but that hooters was also a word that MEANS boobs. I’m not 100% sure if he knows these things and he’s pretending he doesn’t in order to get me to go to Hooters, or he really, really thinks a restaurant where the waitress has boobs sticking all in your face and hotpants is an appropriate place to visit with your daughter when you’re on vacation. Either way, no thanks, buckaroo. We’re going to Cracker Barrel and Outback Steakhouse where the waitresses keep their personal business tucked away like they’re supposed to. Sheesh.
The Cracker Barrel was the loudest place I’ve ever eaten in my LIFE. SO MANY SCREAMING BABIES. And also old people who cackled like the toucans at the zoo. Dad was not impressed. He seems to have sensitive eardrums. I keep telling him he’s a delicate flower. He doesn’t like to be told he’s a delicate flower and thinks he should have worn earplugs to the Cracker Barrel. “THIS NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED AT HOOTERS,” he said. I tried to impress upon him we were much less likely to get gonorrhea at the Cracker Barrel as a side with our lunches but he’s still sad about the no-Hooters situation.
Oh, also, you know how there’s a huge gift shop attached to Cracker Barrel? This happened:
Dad: What the hell is this.
Me: What is it? Oh, it a box of Moon Pies.
Dad: What’s a Moon Pie? Is it astronaut food?
Me: No. It’s dessert. It’s delicious. Wait, you’ve never tried a Moon Pie?
Dad: No. They sound stupid.
Me: THEY ARE DELICIOUS.
Dad: What’s a Moon Pie?
Me: It’s two cookies, with marshmallow inbetween, covered in chocolate.
Dad: What? Who would eat that?
Me: EVERYONE would! You love all the desserts! What’s wrong with you? You are being a total crankypants, they are delicious.
Dad: No one wants these. This gift shop is too loud, let’s go.
I think Dad is broken. He loves desserts. This guy can hoover a whole box of cookies, I’m not sure what’s going on here.
Let’s see. What’s happening in the world, anyway?
Well, we’ve got some piece of shit homophobe pastor in North Carolina wanting parents to punch their children if they notice them acting “too gay:”
“So your little son starts to act a little girlish when he is four years old and instead of squashing that like a cockroach and saying, ‘Man up, son, get that dress off you and get outside and dig a ditch, because that is what boys do,’ you get out the camera and you start taking pictures of Johnny acting like a female and then you upload it to YouTube and everybody laughs about it and the next thing you know, this dude, this kid is acting out childhood fantasies that should have been squashed.
Dads, the second you see your son dropping the limp wrist, you walk over there and crack that wrist. Man up. Give him a good punch. Ok? You are not going to act like that. You were made by God to be a male and you are going to be a male. And when your daughter starts acting too butch, you reign [sic] her in. And you say, ‘Oh, no, sweetheart. You can play sports. Play them to the glory of God. But sometimes you are going to act like a girl and walk like a girl and talk like a girl and smell like a girl and that means you are going to be beautiful. You are going to be attractive. You are going to dress yourself up.'”
There are so many things wrong with this I don’t even know where to begin. OK, first, I’m confused about the YouTube scenario. Is he saying that you should put videos of your kid on YouTube and mock them? Or someone did and everyone laughed and that was bad because it made someone want to be more effeminate? It’s oddly worded.
And the gender roles. THE GENDER ROLES. You’ve got boys, who should be digging ditches and acting male, whatever that is (but whatever it is, we know what it is not – it is NOT “dropping the limp wrist.”) And you’ve got girls. Listen, girls, Pastor Sean Harris is cool with you playing sports – “to the glory of God,” even, whatever the eff that means. Maybe Tebowing after you score, I don’t know. But you ALSO need to act, walk, talk, and SMELL like a girl. (Smell like a girl? What exactly does a girl smell like? Perfume? Body wash? Apples? Coconut? Sex? I need further clarification, here.) How do you do these things? Oh, it’s easy enough, I’ll tell you how. By being BEAUTIFUL. And ATTRACTIVE. And DRESSING YOURSELF UP. Because – guess what? Lesbians aren’t any of those things. OH WAIT. Lesbians ARE beautiful, attractive, and capable of dressing themselves up! Just as much as straight women are! WHAT? AMY NO! It’s true. I’ve known some gorgeous lesbians who killed in a dress. And I’ve known some heinously ugly straight women who looked like shit in pajama pants and a t-shirt. HOW WILL WE KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE STRAIGHTS AND GAYS? Oh, this is bad, this is total anarchy, lock up your CHILDREN, the gays are on the LOOSE, they look just like US, Z!O!M!G!!1!!!
Oh, and don’t forget that you should “man up” and punch your son if he drops that limp wrist. That’ll teach him. That won’t make him any more apt to hate himself enough to commit suicide and contribute to the staggeringly high statistic of suicidal gay teens, no no not that.
Good old Pastor Harris says he was KIDDING, come ON, you guys, how could you THINK he was advocating CHILD ABUSE, but he 100% stands behind gender roles. OK, you know what? Screw you, and screw your gender roles, and screw your we-know-you-weren’t-kidding about punching your son. People like you are the reason kids are committing suicide and the reason there’s so much hatred in the world. And you’re supposed to be a good person, you prick. You’re supposed to be a model for what’s right, as you’re a religious figure. Just take a flying leap, you waste of breath. You’re unnecessary. No one needs you to exist. No one. And, gay kids? You’re perfect just the way you are. Suffer through what you have to, because when you’re free and you’re living your own life and are able to love who you want, you’ll be happy you stuck it out. People like Harris aren’t the real world. The real world’s a lot more forgiving, if you make it to the right place. I promise.
And of course, you remember what we learned not too long ago about raging homophobes, right? Right.
For your totally awesome, God-loving ways, YOU, Sean Harris, get the Lucy’s Football coveted DOUCHE OF THE WEEK AWARD! You can totally frame this, it’s something everyone wishes they had.
OK, you guys, the next time you read my blog, I’ll be home safely (let’s hope, anyway.) Florida vacation over! Real world, let’s do this!