Disheveled

Come one, come all! See the disheveled circus freak! She wears jeans, a sweatshirt, and skull cap when it's cold outside! She layers her clothing! And finally (gasp!), she wears her hair down!!!!

Be excited, for here, in this very post, you will now be treated to the story of the previous Heavyweight Go Into the Ham Passive-Aggressive Comment with Extensive and Convoluted Subtext.

We were all in Santa Cruz for our annual family trip that we generally all acquiesce to in order to not hurt my pop's feelings. It's usually a disaster of varying intensity. Two years ago, mom got pissed that dad wasn't paying enough attention to her, decided no one wanted her there, and drove home. Drove home! Mind you, home was four hours away and this left us with two kids, myself, my boyfriend, and and my father all needing to squeeze into my Maxima with a week's worth of shit in order to get home. Very thoughtful. She ended up coming back.

The year in question-this past summer-we mostly avoided mom and dad by going downtown for coffee constantly and shopping a lot. Yay for family togetherness!

On the particular evening of infamy, it was our last night there and we all went down to the boardwalk to go on rides and have a last hurrah. I was walking ahead with my niece and it was quite crowded. My sister looked around, didn't see me right away, and asked my mother, "Where's Jill?" The loving, motherly response? "She's the disheveled one up there."

"I think she looks really cute", said my loyal sister, trying to defend me.

"Oh, I do too!! That's not what meant", said the back-pedaling mother.

My sister later enlightened me as to this comment, and it was then that my world suddenly came crashing down and I thought to myself, "Self, I don't think she's a very nice person." And thus, long before we had ever conceived of "Go Into the Ham", the seeds of genius were planted.