Friday, November 12, 2010

Day 4-Your parents

Sometimes it gets confusing explaining my parents. My mom and dad got divorced when I was very young, and since both are remarried I find myself making the general comment of "parents" to mean any combination of people who raised me.

My mother (and by association stepfather) is Susan. She is a lawyer for UF, and exactly like me in many ways. Besides being almost identical, I think it is safe to say I don't have to look far to see where I got my stubbornnes, my determination, and my firm belief that I can do anything, and hearing that I can't is just going to push me farther. She married Bill when I was 7, and they have my sister Rachel (tomorrow's post), who is almost entirely the opposite of me. My mom's biggest personality quirk is that she is addicted to crafting (a skill I did not inherit) and has been expanding her crafting collection since I was about 8 years old. It doesn't seem to mesh with her lawyer persona, and I think one day she will probably quit and go into crafting full-time (as if that is a real job). She makes really good spaghetti and has recently developed a taste for Kahlua.



My father (and by association stepmother) is J. He lives in the mountains of North Carolina (which I HATE) and lives a much slower lifestyle than I do. From him I inherit my extremely low tolerance for stupid people, something that he is learning to control while I am simply learning to blog about it. His expertise is computers, and he has recently developed a fondness for the Linux operating system, which I refuse to use because I am happy with mac. Though born and raised in the beaches of Florida, he claims that 6 years in North Carolina has made him appreciate "seasons" and "cold weather" which I cannot tolerate either. He married Kasha when I was 15 and she is from Maryland (much more of that "seasons" and "cold weather"). My dad loves fixing up old computers (and fixing mine when I overload it) and creating websites, but actually has a degree in accounting (which I am dropping this semester). It is difficult when I visit him because his sleeping hours are between 9 p.m. and 5 a.m., and I never want to see that side of 5 a.m.

1 comment:

  1. i love that the culminating description of your mother is that she makes really good spaghetti

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