Divisions and Precisions

No Place Like Home For The Holidays

I seem to be writing more journal entries at work, hrm. I'm really not sure what that says about me or my job at this point. I just think it's funny, since when I conceived of this journal, I figured I'd be writing most of my entries at night.

Maybe all this means is that I've started having nighttime thoughts at work. This could be a good thing. Heh.

The week from hell is almost over! 1 hour and 40 minutes to go and I'm free. Teresa and I have joked about having T-shirts made up that read "I survived the week of November 23rd in Services Reception!" We need a more clever nickname though. That way people will think we're all cool and stuff. Which we are, of course, but that's beside the point.

---

Thanksgiving tomorrow. I'm having such mixed feelings about this. See, Hollingsworth and I have been living together for about 2 and a half years now. From the beginning, he's not been welcome at family gatherings. Matter of fact, of my family, only my mother, my step-father, one aunt and two cousins even know about him.

Why all the secrecy, you ask? Simple. As much as I love my family - my hick, redneck, decidedly Southern family, they can't accept certain things. Or won't accept them. I am of one race. Hollingsworth is of another. To quote my mother, "You can't tell your grandmother [who is 90 years old], it would kill her."

This year, because of how things are going (or aren't going, I guess) between Hollingsworth and I, I'm finally going back to a family holiday without worrying a lot about what he's going to do. Part of me feels very guilty about that. We haven't discussed it at all. Well, we haven't even spoken really, not for a couple of days, so that's not so surprising. But, I'm going to the family dinner. The ironic thing is, my friend Jeff may be going with me tomorrow. I warned him that my family would most likely speculate about his presence. Especially since I haven't brought anyone male around my family since getting divorced. This should be interesting. I love watching people misread situations. Really.

But that's the core of my... discomfort, I guess you could call it. That my friend, who is white, is welcome at a family gathering, while my (former? psuedo? erstwhile? part-time?) boyfriend is not welcome, because he is not white.

Anyway, happy Thanksgiving.

Posted by Lisa at November 25, 1998 03:18 PM