I’m just starting to appreciate music (jazz in particular) on a level deeper than “that’s a cool song, I like the symbolism/guitar riff/whatever”. I’m tonedeaf. I’m told that I had quite a bit of raw talent on the piano, but I was very resistant to taking lessons because I thought it was the lamest thing ever.
I just now–after 21+ years–found out for the first time that my dad used to play trumpet, and still has the trumpet. It boggles the mind that he never thought to bring it up once in 21 years, nor did we ever play together back when I was mashing keys on our piano. Of course, we don’t have the piano anymore.
You know, we don’t enjoy panicking about inconsequential things. Do me a favor and buy yourself some consideration for other people on the way home, and then try to get into the habit of thinking about how not to shit on someone in their own thread.
I have an incredible sense of direction…unlike any one else in my family. I can generally figure out how to get somewhere and always figure out how to get back (even if I make a few wrong turns). Once I’ve visited some place I can always go back over and over again with a very narrow margin of error.
The rest of them? Not so much. They call me GPS and I’ve been allowed to sit up front since the age of 11 with my mom and sis banished to the back. After I got my license, my dad started to let me drive (it’s easier what with my instincts and not having to communicate stuff to my father).
I will admit that having a GPS makes my life much easier but it’s not something I’m highly dependent on.
I like to know the reasons behind things, and just to know stuff in general. Neither of my parents really cares about that; they don’t ask questions. I also hate vegetables and they both love them.
Other than that, I’m very much like a blend of both of them.
Yeah my dad often jokes that my GPS software is lacking in the “shortest” distance department but considering that they haven’t been lost since we discovered this ability I’d say they’re pretty lucky. We rarely had family blowouts about missed directions during vacations (pre-GPS…we are all GPS-ed up now so my responsibilities have been somewhat scaled back).
My mother was frightened out of her mind to live alone and about going outside. She also could give you 92 reasons not to do anything (You want to go on a sensible diet? You might get sick. You couldn’t do it. I know you.)
I live alone, work, go out every single day for a walk, and before I do things I think “What’s the worse that will probably happen?” 99% of the time it’s something that I can live with, but that rarely does happen. The other 1%, I just ask myself “If I knew that was going to happen, would I still have done it?” Over 50% of the time, the answer is “yes.”
I once met a woman just like my mother. I told her to make a list of things that might go wrong in a month. She made a list of 30. At the end of the month, I asked her how many things did go wrong. Five did, but two weren’t even on the list.
Other people often describe me as ‘ambitious’ and ‘driven.’ I don’t feel driven - to me, that’s associated with a Type A personality, which I certainly don’t have. I do, however, know exactly what I want from life, and am willing to bust my ass and sacrifice quite a bit right now in order to achieve future happiness.
My parents are a couple of the laziest, least motivated slackers that have ever walked the planet. If I am driven, I have no idea where it came from.
Pretty much everything. Did I not look so much like every woman in my mom’s family dating back at least to the advent of photography, I’d think I was a changeling.
My folks are almost Bushian in their lack of intellectual curiosity. They don’t like animals. They don’t like cities. They’re uncomfortable with people that are in any way different than they are (I’m left-handed and near-sighted in a family of right-handed far-sighters - I might as well be from Mars just for that, it freaks them out so much).
I’m an “if you want it, go for it” kind of person to my friends. My mom is a, “Well, I guess that’s fine, if that’s what you really want…” said in a tone indicating that no RATIONAL person would want whatever it is, but she’s not going to be the one to tell you that.
Mom’s a neat freak (librarian) and I’m…not. I guess I got one gene - she’s an English teacher-cum-librarian, and I have a BA in medieval and Renaissance lit, and now am a tech writer. But she makes things like “Star Wars” possessive (Star War’s) and seems not to realize there’s a BIG difference between its and it’s, and they’re, their, and there. I think it’s probably a good thing she hasn’t taught English in 30 years.
I kinda think there’s something one of my aunts isn’t telling me. She and I are so much alike it’s almost scary. Except that she’s right-handed and far-sighted.
Both my parents smoke - I cant be near the stuff anymore or it sets off my sinuses.
They’re divorced and my Mom hasnt had a date or sex since. I’d say she’s on the frigid side (and distrusts men to the extreme) and off-the-wall Catholic.
Me, I like dating! I adore men, and have a bmf (best male friend), and ooh-la-la I LOVE incredible sex (thank you,my love ) I’ve always questioned religion - especially catholic (and voiced my opinions since jr highschool). Definately uninhibited (did I mention I love sex?)
My mom is also a control freak & I suppose maybe I am a little too leniant with my kids.
My mom keeps a prestine house, whereas I tend to be cluttery (but I do share the “cant stand a dirty kitchen”).
I’m a gamer/rpg’er (but I think I got my love for sci-fi from my Dad, and the ability to comprehend it!)
My mom cant cook - I was left in charge of the kitchen at 12.
There’s several more, but basically I can sum it up: I am MYSELF
I’m a food person. I love new recipes, various cuisines. I cook French, Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Thai, Spanish, a little of everything.
My parents ate seven or eight meals, consisting of meat (baked or fried chicken, meatloaf, pork chops, or steak), potatoes (mashed, boiled, fried or baked), and vegetable (canned corn, canned peas, canned green beans, canned baked beans, or boxed macaroni and cheese*). Seasonings were salt and pepper. White bread and margarine. Iceberg lettuce salad with French or Thousand Island dressing, radishes and maybe carrots if they were feeling fancy. Spaghetti was exotic, ethnic food to them, and my Dad never had it until he was in his 50s.
*I know, macaroni and cheese isn’t a vegetable, but they treated it as one, and served it along with the meat and potatoes in place of an actual canned vegetable.
) I’ve always questioned religion - especially catholic (and voiced my opinions since jr highschool). Definately uninhibited (did I mention I love sex?)