The Drunken Blog

I know my mom reads my blog, but I don’t think my grandma does, so I should be OK in writing this. This past weekend (please note, this was originally written back in August) it was my grandfather’s 80th birthday, which means that his children and grandchildren from across the country congregated to celebrate this calculated event. But as with most birthday parties, there was an ulterior motive for their gathering – deciding whether or not my grandmother (who divorced my grandfather years and years ago) and who lives alone, should continue to live alone, or if they should put her in a home.

Apparently cooking steak in a toaster oven isn’t considered normal.
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I have a subtle competitiveness that most don’t seem to notice. Or, if they do notice, they seem to call it something else more along the lines of “let the other person win.” Of course, that’s not actually the case, but in my long and eventful life, I’ve learned that when somebody is really good at something, and they are able to completely trounce you, you have much less incentive to continue competing with that person in that event. The problem here is that I like competing in events in which I do well, but if I do too well, whomever I am competing against will stop competing if they feel they have no chance at beating me. So often times I won’t go all out, which leads many people to believe that I am mediocre at best in many areas.

I lavish in the thought of people calling me mediocre, it makes it just that much easier to for me to impress people; making other people have low standards of you is very important to impressing them. That’s horrible life advice, but when it’s just you and a ten year old competing for the coveted title of “Best Diver at Jake’s Parent’s Marina’s Pool Party,” I pull out all of the stops. Allow me to explain.

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