had a pretty good day, mostly cause i was at my driving lesson. driving on the freeway was exciting. scary, but exciting. that was the highlight of my day.
then good old, hate him, needs to learn some manners, dad ruined my day. the one time i actually get to drive without my instructor & actually practice without paying for it, my dad has to be a passenger driver & keeps telling me the traffic light is red, the car in front of me is slowing down, turn on your signal, etc. i know what i'm doing, i don't need you to tell me what, where, or how to get to my destination. i know where it is.
and as we finally reach my mom's work to drop off her dinner, i slow down to turn left, but instead of hitting the break, i accidently hit the accelerator. so the car goes into the parking lot really fast & dad starts yelling that i should have slowed down and a bunch of other crap. when i bring my mom the food, she asks me how it went. i tell her everything went fine until her stupid husband started opening his mouth. she goes on to say, "he told me that you hit the accelerator instead of the break." so i tell her my side of the story. i tell her that i'm used to looking at the floor to see the break & accelerator and what i thought was the break, was the other. my mom then says that he's nervous when i drive & he's the one in the passenger seat. i tell her i don't care. why should i care about him, he's not that great of a father or person. she continues by saying that he feels like he's going to die when i'm driving. i'm not even a bad driver; i go 30 at a 40 miles per hour street. i go that slow so i don't get a ticket. whereas my dad, he's gotten a total of four in the last year and a half. maybe even more that i don't even know about. did i mention that my dad's an angry driver?
so when my mom told me that, i responded by telling her that he's lived through open heart surgery, msra, multiple back and leg troubles, and he's a diabetic. i highly doubt he'll die of a car accident. as we left i told my mom that her husband was crazy.
as dad & i enter the car, he tells me that i'm going to make him die of a heart attack. i say under my breathe that a heart attack for you would be a good thing. at least he would be one step closer to dying. and if anything, he should really die from lung cancer because out of everything that he's been through with his health, cigarette smoking has yet to leave a mark. remember, my dad already had a quadruple bypass surgery for his heart. and he still smokes.
so i try to tell him my story & he says i'm just making excuses. he says something in visaya which i can't really understand, but in my own words, i bet he was trying to say, "stop making excuses. shut up. you're stupid. i hate you." actually if he said that he hated me, i would have said that the feeling was mutual. the fact that he won't even hear my side of the story & continues to blame me is ridiculous. like he expects me to fail. i really do wonder if he even loves me as his own daughter. i don't know really what to say about that, if he doesn't, no hard fellings. i only love him as my dad cause i have to, cause it's my job. he's not that special to me. i can tell you this, i wouldn't be crying at his funeral. i wouldn't even go.
bastard - 1) an illegitimate child; 2) a word used as a derogatory term for an unpleasant person; 3) a mongrel.
maybe i should just start calling dad bastard. i'm pretty sure he'll respond to that. it's practically his second name.
