Defiance

Yeah, the roads are bad after Thursday's horrific snowstorm and subsequent cold blast.  While Friday's and Saturday's sunshine helped activate the salt in order to evaporate the snow and ice (really, once you get to Valentine's Day, the rays of the sun are fairly intense; on a sunny day in your car, you can feel quite warm), there was so much to begin with that there are slippery patches and ruts of dry pavement all over the place.  The rides are rough pretty much everywhere in the metropolitan area.

And yet ... despite the road conditions, despite the fact that we had just saw the news saying that driving isn't advised, and despite the car that I saw rolled over on the way back from the gym ... well, the North Star Roller Girls (they're the roller derby team based on this side of the river, aka the inferior league) had its championship bout last night.  I have yet to go to a game at the NSRG, and this appears to be the last game of the season.  So, I wanted to go.

I asked them, "Mind if I go out tonight?" while they were cleaning dishes.  Mother said no, but I thought that she said she didn't mind when she meant she did mind.  One of the few times English is obviously a handicap to her.  Meanwhile, My Fucking Father quietly stopped washing dishes, then continued after Mother said no.

She asked me where I was going.  I told her a movie in Columbia Heights.  I tried to tell her it was close to a branch of the bank she went to, but she didn't understand, and then I thought maybe it was better if I didn't go, and I told her that, and I went back to my bedroom.

But then My Fucking Father screams from the kitchen: "Why don't you clean your room?"

Now, I think I've been pretty good and not throwing papers and clothes all over my room.  A little too clean, in fact; the shit I do have I've been hiding.  So for him to basically accuse me that my bedroom is dirty ... well, that just set me off.

"You know what?  Maybe I will leave."  And then I did some quick picking-up of stuff and stuffing them into my night desk, all the while muttering, "Why don't you clean your room" in Chinese.  And then I left.

I was about 15, 20 minutes late the bout, but at least I saw both halves of the title bout.  The three-time defending champion Violent Femmes were unable to four-peat, getting blasted early and often by The Banger Sisters, who the Femmes beat soundly earlier in the year, apparently.  The commute there and back wasn't great, but with careful and slow driving, I was able to make it to the Minneapolis Convention Center, then to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) and finally home a bit past 11.

No problem, 'Rents, no fucking problem at all.

---

Thought they'd be upset.  I decided I'd get up early and stomp around the house, clearing up the snow around the mailboxes and wiping up my bedroom floor.  They aren't angry.  In fact, they offered me oatmeal.  They're acting as if our fight didn't happen at all.