My relatives have no brains when it comes to sending wedding or other occasion invitations.
I haven’t lived with my mom for over twenty years. My youngest sibling has been gone for at least ten years.
I’ll meet someone and they’ll ask why I didn’t come to the occasion. Me “What are you talking about?” Them “We sent an invitation to your mother, didn’t she tell you?”
Why would my mother call to say she got an invitation for so and so’s wedding, and I should come. I haven’t lived with her for over twenty years you idiot. Send an invitation to me, or go to hell.
Anybody else have idiot relatives.
I’m only your wildest fear, from the corners of your darkest thoughts.
My relatives just send wedding invitations that are followed (usually within a month or so) by a note telling us the wedding was called off. This has happened in the same family more than once.
Oh well, guess it is better than divorce.
“I celebrate myself, and sing myself, and what I assume you shall assume, for every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.” --Whitman
Your relative are clueless–either that or lazy. Wedding ettiquette states that any child living outside the home over age 17 should get their own invitation.
There are too many cliches to even start on this one…“you choose friends, not family” etc. Sick as it is, it’s nice to know that other people’s families are as fully warped and “non Cleaver” as mine.
First hint: don’t read insults into stupidities. Even when they’re deliberate you’ll frustrate your tormenters so much more by ignoring them. If nothing else, bland “high road” response confounds the petty and forgives the ignorant. (BTW, I’m a great believer in not rewarding idiots with the fight they want. Drives the twits nuts when you politely ignore all that spite they slaved over.)
Hey, be a total shit: waft in on your best behavior, charm all in sight and enjoy the hell out of the ocassion. You’ll have fun and confound the twits at the same time.
I can do you one better. The last time one of my realtives got married, they sent my invitation to my parents’ house. Not only have I not lived with them for many years, I am married. They addressed it to me and my husband by my maiden name. They know I’m married, they came to my wedding. (They explained later that they could not remember my married name or my husband’s first name, “tee-hee”)
Anyway, I go to the wedding. I spend much time with my cousin, the bride. We discuss how my husband and I just recently got our own house, where it is, how you get there, exchanged addresses, etc.
Guess where they sent the thank you note? Yep, to my parents’ house. Addressed by my maiden name again!
AAARRRRGGHHHH!
The dumber people think you are, the more surprised they’re going to be when you kill them.
The point is my siblings and I don’t find out about the wedding until after the fact. Then they get bent out of shape because my mother didn’t tell us to come.
I’m only your wildest fear, from the corners of your darkest thoughts.
Thank gawd I’m not the only one. My dad’s sister ALWAYS tells him when there’s going to be a family get together and to “let the girls know” (ie me and my sister). Usually one day before the even, I’ll be talking to my dad and the conversation will go something like this:
D: Well, I’ll see you tomorrow!
BG: why? Are you coming over (we live in the same town).
D: No it’s grandpa’s birthday party/nephews wedding/cousin’s baby shower.
BG: DAD! You never told me about this! How am I supposed to go/buy a gift/ etc in this short of notice! We’ve already got plans!
D: Gee, I thought I told you. Are you sure I didn’t tell you?
Grrr!!! How many times I’ve told my aunt to NEVER expect my dad to get us a message, I can’t even count!
You should see Mrs. Kunilou’s mother. She constantly forgets to tell my wife anything – who’s getting married, who’s pregnant, all the family stuff. Her only answer is, “but I told your sister” – who lives 700 miles away and they don’t talk THAT often.
Still, my family took the cake for this type of stuff. I sent my grandmother a Christmas card and it came back “Deceased.” I asked my father when his mother had died (2 months earlier) and when he intended to tell me. His response: “I knew you had a lot on your mind at the time.”
Hey, you’re lucky. My parents DO tell me about family affairs, and I feel obligated to go. How bad can it be? Every Thanksgiving my uncle gets sogged and throws the turkey carcas into Long Island Sound, screaming for the sea gulls to “Come and eat your own kind.” It’s our tradition. Last family reunion one of my cousins, while also sogged, asked me if I had a boyfriend. I said, no, not at the moment. He said “Listen, I’m your older, understanding, openminded cousin. I live in MANHATTEN. Is there anything you need to tell me?” and I said “Um, yea, that your head is up your ass.” If we were close, this would be touching, but as it is, I seriously have NEVER had what I categorize as a conversation with this man. Apparently since my hair isn’t teased within an inch of its life, I’m a lesbian. Too bad I like boys. And I have a younger cousin who I SWEAR is gonna be a serial killer in 10 years.
So consider yourself lucky you get a good excuse out of these events.
One must have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star. -Nietzche
Hey, you’re lucky. My parents DO tell me about family affairs, and I feel obligated to go. How bad can it be? Every Thanksgiving my uncle gets sogged and throws the turkey carcas into Long Island Sound, screaming for the sea gulls to “Come and eat your own kind.” It’s our tradition. Last family reunion one of my cousins, while also sogged, asked me if I had a boyfriend. I said, no, not at the moment. He said “Listen, I’m your older, understanding, openminded cousin. I live in MANHATTEN. Is there anything you need to tell me?” and I said “Um, yea, that your head is up your ass.” If we were close, this would be touching, but as it is, I seriously have NEVER had what I categorize as a conversation with this man. Apparently since my hair isn’t teased within an inch of its life, I’m a lesbian. Too bad I like boys. And I have a younger cousin who I SWEAR is gonna be a serial killer in 10 years.
So consider yourself lucky you get a good excuse out of these events.
One must have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star. -Nietzche
In my family, I’m the idiot. When my parents send me letters, I read them and toss them in a folder. Then a few weeks later they’ll say “by the way, did you read in the letter that we needed you to send pictures of your new house?” And I’ll say “what letter?”
When my parents visit, they say “that fondue that we brought you ALL THE WAY FROM SWITZERLAND four years ago is still in the freezer”, and I say “Yes, I’ve been meaning to have a fondue party one of these days. Maybe tomorrow.”
Now my brother and sister-in-law, when they want to have something done, bypass me and talk directly to my fiancee.
I’ve got more or less the opposite problem. My mother assumes that any invitation extended to her is also extended to me. She got a “save the date” letter from the grandson of a friend, who is getting married this summer. It was addressed to “[my mom’s name] and family.” First of all, what family? She lives alone with 2 dogs; are they inviting the dogs? No, according to her, it referred to her married daughter who lives 300 miles away and hasn’t lived with her in 15 years (me). According to her, the groom and I are old friends.
I don’t think so, Mom! I barely know him (I’ve barely known him my whole life, but that doesn’t count), he can get my address if he wants to (his grandmother has it), and having just planned a wedding, I understand that you don’t invite the daughter of a friend of your grandmother just to pad the guest list. :rolleyes:
At one of my cousin’s wedding about five years, my grandpa stood drunkenly outside the door and exclaimed that anybody who wanted to come in and have some food was free to. They ended up with about 100 gatecrashers at their reception.
SwimmingRiddles: Your family sounds like mine. My grandfather used to own a skeet shooter. One year, he stuck the carcass into the shooter and launched it, then shot it out of the air with his .22 rifle. Another year, he punched out one of my aunts for burning the rolls. All of my friends wonder why I don’t like attending family functions.
Shadowfox
“The two real political parties in America are the Winners and the Losers. The people don’t acknowledge this. They claim membership in two imaginary parties, the Republicans and the Democrats, instead.”
-Wampeters, Foma and Granfalloons, “In a Manner that Must Shame God Himself” (Kurt Vonnegut)
“Distinguished” Sexy assistant to Head Honcho,
Self-Righteous Clique
I forgot to add that my family doesn’t even bother with invitations. They always call my mother and tell her, with the intention that she is supposed to pass on the message to me and my sister. But does she? Hell no! We never find out about the wedding/birth/christening until after the event is over. You would think that the rest of the family would have caught on to this by now, but they haven’t.
The best one yet is just this last Christmas, my grandmother sent a Christmas present to my home with my ex-husband’s name on it. We have been divorced for six years now. She told me later that she knew I had remarried, but she couldn’t remember his name and thought that his name was Jason, which is my ex-husband. Needless to say, my hubby was not exactly happy about this.
Shadowfox
“The two real political parties in America are the Winners and the Losers. The people don’t acknowledge this. They claim membership in two imaginary parties, the Republicans and the Democrats, instead.”
-Wampeters, Foma and Granfalloons, “In a Manner that Must Shame God Himself” (Kurt Vonnegut)
“Distinguished” Sexy assistant to Head Honcho,
Self-Righteous Clique
My mom’s like this. She’ll get family news, then half the time forget to tell me.
She once told me my sister-in-law was pregnant after her previous baby was stillborn at 8 1/2 months. At about 7 months, I was talking to my sister (long distance) and I mentioned our soon-to-come nibling. She then informed me that that baby was lost very early on. Fortunately I hadn’t talked to my brother in the intervening months or else I’d have athelete’s mouth.
She’s also bad about comparative dates. A childhood friend of her came to visit when my parents still lived in Virginia. I went to my parents’ apartment and finally met this woman I’d heard so much about. My mom said I’d met her before in Colorado. I asked (politely) when. After some thinking, my mom said, “1966”.
“Sorry, Mom. My recollection from when I was 18 months old is kind of sketchy,” I replied. My mom’s friend laughed.
Wrong thinking is punished, right thinking is just as swiftly rewarded. You’ll find it an effective combination.
I don’t know why, but that is one of the funniest things I’ve heard in a long time. I can just picture it… She yanks the smoldering blackened hunks of dough out of the oven, shouting, “Oh Dear, Oh Dear” and here he comes, WHAM!! and all these hardened, sooty blocks of carbon tumble into the air and scatter across the linoleum floor.
Luckily, I don’t talk to my family much. But now my mother has finally gotten online, and I’m being barraged with crap. I can’t wait until the novelty of sending animated greeting cards wears off for her. Then my brother got into the act, and got e-mail addresses for his two kids, aged 11 and 3. The little one “just loves” getting e-mail, I am assured. Well, I’ll be damned if he’s getting any from me. I’ve moved all over the country to avoid stuff like this, and now this damnable technology has allowed them to invade nonetheless. Then, my mother gives my information to an old family friend, whom I haven’t seen in about five or six years, and the next thing I know, I am being IM’d at work by her wondering why I don’t stop in anymore. Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I am 800 miles away! Oooh.
Could be worse I suppose. Grandma could be trying to learn about “them stupid machines”.
My parents once moved and didn’t bother telling me!
Well, my mother tried to tell me, but I wasn’t there whenever she called and she doesn’t believe in answering machines (or the post office), so she called my Aunt and asked her to let me know. Which she didn’t.
So, I try to call, and I keep getting the “this number is no longer in service” message, and I just about freaked out. I had no idea what I’d done that was so bad that they’d move out of their house just to avoid talking to me!
Oh, sweet, fancy Mosas. Now there’s Cherry Coke all over my keyboard. Can we just form a circle for Shadow and I and all hold hands and sing Kumbyaa?
Here’s one for you to chew on, Shadow: When my father turned 11, he had a birthday party with the neighborhood boys (the O’Connells, the Dellanys, you get the jist…) My grandmother had just bought whipped cream in a can, which was brand new. She squirted whipped cream on someone’s cake…and couldn’t stop the cream. It just kept squirting, and she paniced (that doesn’t look right) and started running around screaming her head off. At no point did she remove her finger from the nozzle. The seven 11 year old boys at the party, sensing an opportunity to riot, did. Whipped cream hung from the ceilings, the boys all ran screaming into the backyard, and eventually the cream ran out.
Beat that one.
One must have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star. -Nietzche
