the party

I love my dad. I don’t know if he reads this blog. Tonight was his birthday party. I went with my fiancée, Gerhard Richter’s Daughters.

 

GRD: It was weird. This one woman was mean to you.

Q:

GRD: And then Henry ate your headphones.

Q: Henry is our dog. These were the $2 Virgin America headphones I bought on the plane.

GRD: She … I don’t remember. She wasn’t making that much sense. First she thought you had to figure out what you were doing and get a job. Then she kept saying that farmers were going to ask you what you did with your life. Then she said your dad didn’t love you.

Q: Who the fuck was this lady? She was the wife of one of my dad’s golf buddies. At first it seemed like she was being playful, I went along with it. Then it turned nasty, and circular, and weird, and hateful. I did the thing I sometimes do in those situations, where I exaggerate and amplify the worst of what they’re saying, at my own expense — e.g., “no, you’re right, I don’t even know if he’s my real father. We all have chronic diarrhea.” Tell me about the lady with the daughter.

GRD: The lady with the daughter, who I hadn’t even met, stopped me and said, “hey, let me know if you need any advice about having a baby and a career at the same time.” That other woman asked us if it was our first marriage. And then Henry ate your headphones.

Q: My stepmom asked me if there was enough for me to eat, since I was vegan, in a tone of voice implying that vegans cannot possibly nourish themselves properly. The hateful golf wife also mocked my dietary choices, and called the magazine I used to work for “crunchy,” though she didn’t know anything about it. She said she was shocked when she found out my father had a son. She must hate my father. Do you think she is crazy?

GRD: Yeah. I don’t know if I think she’s crazy. I think she likes to talk alot and doesn’t think about what she’s saying and people think she’s funny or fiesty so she gets away with it but it doesn’t make sense or sometimes it makes sense but was confused about this issue. She’s been divorced twice and seems unhappy in this marriage and so she has a lot of strong feelings that were getting in the way of her logic.

Q: She was telling us not to get married.

GRD: I don’t know. It was confusing. I think she ultimately gave us her approval.

Q: If somehow my father or stepmother reads this, it’s not your fault. I love you. You have your faults, and so do I. I was irritated by this woman at your party, and now I’m writing about it on the internet. Henry ate my headphones. The farmers hate me. The other people at the party were kind. I was strongly reminded a few times — this was a party in Marin, Calif. — of The Serial (hat-tip blufugate)

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