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Zuzu

I can't usually remember incidents this long ago in my childhood, but somehow an incident from the past keeps haunting me tonight, so hopefully through writing I can make more sense of that day.

When I was about 8 years old, my parents and I went to a new restaurant called Zuzu. That was the day of their grand opening, and we had just returned from the fabric store.

We ordered our food, and dad wanted a dish that included rice. The plates arrived, and he found the rice somewhat dry, so the next time the waiter came by, he mentioned the dryness. The waiter was cordial and apologetic, taking the rice and going back for more.

Mom scowled at dad, and his argument was that during grand openings, businesses WANT feedback on their products so they can better serve their customers. Her argument was that he was just being smart, controlling because he could, and spiting her for goodness knows what--perhaps a lengthy visit to the fabric store? I don't remember anymore.

At the time, I can remember silently siding with dad, but today, I'm not sure who I would favor. He tried to reason with me that it was normal to give suggestions to one's waiter, that doing so would improve the service. I now see that this "teaching" me is a ridiculously childish way of getting revenge on my mother. I can just imagine the look on her face as he instructed me on the proper way to behave during a restaurant's grand opening. Sometimes I wonder if the only reason I started siding more often with my mother after the divorce is because she scared the hell out of me. Dad typically never yelled, but he housed his quiet, manipulative ways just as much as she did. She simply had more powerful lungs with which to scream.

But who can blame her? She was a single mother living in an apartment trying for the first time to make it on her own. She had moved from her high school house to college to a place with dad, and no in between space, no roof of her own. I'm glad she kept me, though. I do like existing; it's quite the adventure.

I'm tired of writing about this. They're both insane, as far as I can see.

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ON ANOTHER NOTE, I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF MY FUCKING ROOMMATE. FUCKING FRESHMEN.......AAAAUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHH

THANK YOU.

12:44 am - Tuesday, Mar. 06, 2007
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