study break

I’m in the middle of doing my midterm for Civil Procedure, and my words to BF about it were “this is a STUPID midterm, just like every other STUPID assignment this STUPID teacher has given us.” Honestly, I couldn’t think of any words that better described these things. It’s just dumb, the way he’s put this class together. So I’m taking a little break to tell you what’s happening.

Instead of Diner I watched Gandhi. Yeah, they’re a little different. I found myself marveling at the fact that I could practically put together an itemized list of Ways to Know You’re Watching a “Great Film” as I watched, and also at the fact that even if the movie hadn’t been that good I still would have been inspired and uplifted by the man and what he taught and believed. It made me want to learn more about him. Especially because I seem to have been following the deliberate humility thing he espoused without knowing it for the last year or so.

Yesterday morning BF and I were getting ready to go out for an errand when the doorbell rang. We occasionally get Mormons or firefighters looking for a donation coming to the door, and sometimes kids selling candy bars, so I was sure it would be one of those people. I looked through the peephole.

“Oh, God,” I said into the door.

It was my father and his new wife. Standing at my door.

I don’t guess I need to say that he didn’t call or email to let me know he’d be dropping by, nor did I invite him at any time. The house was a mess and I was in no way emotionally ready to see him. But I couldn’t just not let him in. So I did let him and NW in, and they stayed for about half an hour, just standing in our living room. NW chatted gaily and Dad occasionally said something. He looked as if she was tiring him, and he did not make eye contact with me easily.

I feel mildly pissed off that he saw nothing wrong in just dropping by, but that’s pretty much the only emotion I can find about this little visit. I wasn’t glad to see him, and I wasn’t sorry to see him go. He asked me if I was planning to come back to Copenhagen again before he detaches in July, and the answer in my throat was “No, not a chance” (because I see no reason to, I don’t want to take the time off, and flying that far is a horrible thought) but instead I said “I don’t know, maybe.” He asked me how I was doing and I couldn’t think of anything about my life to tell him that he’d give a damn about.

By contrast, MB stopped by today (after he called to make sure we were there and it was OK), and I was very pleased to see him and sorry when he had to go. MB is much, much closer to my own age, but my father is my father.

Break time’s over. Back to the stupid midterm.