Stuff Rachel Fucking Hates

Sorry that this is approximately four days late, but since our stats do not in any way seem to correlate with the actual content we post on this blog and have stayed high, I don’t think you guys really care. I didn’t write anything for like a week because I was rendered basically comatose by a combination of sleep deprivation and intense summer heat waves, but now my dad is visiting and anyone who knows me in real life knows that that makes me hate a lot of things. So here we are: the Stuff Rachel Fucking Hates Father/Daughter Edition!

The weird bougie stuff I do when I’m with him For instance: allowing him to drop $150 on me at the Gap, or the Starbucks latte I enjoyed tonight. It tasted delicious, like cultural imperalism. It’s weird because I don’t think that either my dad or I really enjoy doing things like this on our own; or, my dad does more than I do, but I feel like his perfect afternoon is spent sitting in a rocking chair complaining about illegal immigration or something, and mine is baking bread and watching Skins, and I’m not sure how we end up compromising by going to outlet malls and chain restaurants.

The inevitable onslaught of familial guilt The very first thing my dad did when he saw me was hand me a tupperware container of his homemade potato salad, which I have always loved but which is Not Vegan. I hadn’t told him I was eating vegan because he will think it is weird, and the thought of having to tell my dad who drove this pathetic little tupperware container 600 miles just for me that “I’m not eating that, Dad, I’m vegan now,” was just too much for me to bear. So I ate some of it for lunch today, making sure to do it in front of him, and I don’t feel guilty about eating mayonnaise but somehow I still feel guilty about him. Does that make any sense?

In general, my dad is crazy and frequently annoying. Example:

Dad: Do you have any butter for this?

Me: No, we don’t. We have margarine instead.

Dad: Why? Why do people use margarine instead of butter?

Me: I mean, it’s better for you.

Dad: What, butter’s bad for you?

He listens to really shitty music I’m sorry, but even I don’t have a favorite song on the new Sarah MacLachlan album.

He is chronically unable to remember anything about my friends or loved ones, but remembers everything about my acquaintances. The names of my actual roommates ten minutes after meeting them? Not a chance. But later, in the car: “How’s that friend of yours who went to Oxford? Is she still there, or has she moved back here?” “I haven’t been friends with her since the sixth grade, so I don’t really know?”

I’m going to stop bitching now, because actually it was really nice of my dad to take me shopping at the outlet mall and also he bought me a bar of handmade soap that smells like cloves, I am a shitty daughter. I am going to go drink cold water until probably I vomit, here is another Dad-ism to tide you over:

“I don’t think we should go to another food place just yet, because I think I’m all eaten out.”

THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT

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6 Comments

Filed under Rachel

6 responses to “Stuff Rachel Fucking Hates

  1. Brianna

    Oh hi, do we have the same father?

    “I’m not sure how we end up compromising by going to outlet malls and chain restaurants”

    That scenario sounds familiar…

    • Rachel

      is your dad obsessed with blu-ray and glenn beck too? what if we’re long-lost siblings? i mean, we do both love the con, which is more than i have in common with my actual sibling.

      • Brianna

        I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re not long lost siblings because a. I don’t think my dad knows how to feed himself, thus no potato salad making skills and b. he has okay taste in music, I turned him on to The Dresden Dolls and also made him sit through It’s Not Fun, Don’t Do it. Yet he thinks Richard Nixon was a swell president, calls Arabs “towel heads” and says loafers are for homos.

        but I can completely relate to the mall-shopping, chain-restaurant eating reunions. Also, awkward conversations.

  2. andrew

    I still have arguments about margarine vs. butter with my father/still lose every time.

  3. emma

    i guess this is what people who “aren’t jewish” are like.

  4. Heather

    I can’t relate to the compromise thing. My dad loves chain restaurants and seems to think anything not served at one of them is “weird”/”beautiful people” food (e.g. eaten by liberals, nonwhite people). He does not like outlet malls, though, unless it contains a Big Dog.

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