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How I spent my Thanksgiving- fighting with the psycho bitch!
Dinner was fine. Great even. We all had a lovely time. Then on the way home, Dad tells me he's dropping me off and then going back to Ruth's to stay the night. I said, and I quote, "Again?" (He stayed over last night.) My sister says I shouldn't have said it. I probably shouldn't have, but it just slipped out. It was just a question, God's sake. But Ruth absolutely flipped out. She went batshit crazy.

She was just screaming at me, calling me a burden and worthless and lazy and manipulative. That was just to start. She says, what are you going to do when he stays over seven nights a week. My response- Hire a hitman. (Probably should have done that ages ago, anyhow). And it just went on from there. She called me terrible name after terrible name, and you know what my father did? Nothing. Jack squat. He asked us not to fight. I said to him, point blank, is this how you see me- as a leech and a burden and a trial? Really? He wouldn't answer. Then Ruth went on about how I was using him for his money and bleeding him dry. Really, I said. What about you wanting him to pay your $2500 tax bill? She didn't have much to say to that.

Finally, she said, take me home. Dad swung the car around, and she started muttering, she was done with this, through with this. During the argument I had asked her "so, am I a waste to worthwhile society?", which was from their fight last night, about his good friends Fredi and Eddie. (And no they're not, for the record. They're kind, decent people who don't deserve this woman's animosity.) So she says to Dad, what else are you telling her about what we do in private? I didn't laugh out loud, but I sure wanted to. They fight, and they have sex. That's what they do. What, are they fighting crime and curing cancer in secret or something?

So, we pull into her driveway, and Ruth doesn't even wait for the car to stop moving before she's getting out. Dad says he has to pee and follows her inside. He comes out a few minutes later. I'm bracing myself, because I know he's going to start yelling at me. "Andrea, you're a real piece of work," he snarls, as soon as he gets in the car. Why shouldn't I defend myself, I yelled back- you sure didn't. Why did you bring up the tax thing, he asks. Because she's calling ME a burden and a leech, I responded.

So we drove home, making occasional conversation. I said to him before we got here that I was utterly miserable, utterly, since she's been around. I am tremendously hurt by the things she says and does. He said it doesn't matter, it's over now.

And thus endeth the night.

Christ, I hate Thanksgiving. Worst one yet, except for the one where my father got food poisoning right after and had to to the ER.

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I really don't know what to say to make this better. All I can offer is a hug. :( ::::Hug::::

Sweetie, I'll take all the hugs I can get. It was the neverending car ride of despair, which pretty much describes my mental state right now.

Holy cats, that woman is a real piece of work. Oh do I ever hope their relationship is really over this time!

She's something esle, all right. I hope to God that this is the FINAL end, as opposed to all the other ends that didn't last. Jesus, what a night!

That is one crazy ass bitch! Good on you for defending yourself!

Thanks, ROx. It felt good, too. I'm tired of being this woman's doormat so I won't upset my dad.

I am so pissed off on your behalf! And way disappointed in your dad. I hope it really is over. What an awful, awful woman to have in your life! *hugs*

*Hugs back* Please God, this is truly the end. No more of this. Please.

There's no fool like an old fool! And if it truly is over, then you can give your Thanksgiving thanks for that. know, I was thinking about the kerfuffle over whether or not there was a local bus you could take from one of your previous entries -- did you not used to live in Brooklyn, where there was public transportation a-plenty? You can't swing a dead cat in NYC w/o hitting a bus. How is it your fault that your father dragged you to live down there in a state w/o copious public transportation, and he picked a house off the bus maps when he knew darned well that you could not drive? And it's not like he said, "I'm moving to Florida, see ya round, kiddo" and you screamed, "Oh no you don't, you'll not get rid of me so easily, old man!", and you lashed yourself to the moving truck at that point. It seems to me there was this idea that you were a family, and that you would be looking after your father. WTF doesn't begin to cover this crap. I hope for your sake it's over.

What he needs is a girlfriend who tells him how lucky he is to have such a great daughter, not one who tells him he needs to cough up $2500 for her taxes. She was obviously trying to drive a wedge in order to make it easier to gain access to his wallet.

I'm giving you my father's cell number. Then you can call him and tell him everything you just wrote, cause Lord knows he doesnt' listen when I say it.

Thank you so much, Sweetie. I can't even begin to tell you how much your support and friendship has helped me.

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