For a Pessimist, I am Pretty Optimistic

Today during my break, I stopped by at my grandmother’s for lunch. She lives only a couple of blocks away from my new job and it had been way too long since I’d seen her last. As it was, it’s been years since I’ve visited her on a regular basis (reminder: my agoraphobia barely allowed me to step out the door).

After squishing her into a hug (with my heels on, she was six inches shorter than me) I saw that the table was all set for a meal. Yes! Almost everyone I know thinks that their grandmother is the best cook, but mine really is the best. As I happily ate the most delicious lamb chops ever, she even confessed to me that she hates eating at restaurants because the food is usually so inferior to her own.

When the phone rang, my grandmother cheerfully greeted the caller. I was curious but afraid of whom it could be. I prayed it wasn’t my dad; otherwise he’d make me stay on the phone with him way past the time I’d need to get back to work.

“It’s Jennifer,” Grandma told me. I smirked to myself since I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about talking with my cousin. Sure enough, when Grandma told her I was over and offered to give the phone to me, I could hear her quickly say she needed to go and hang up.

I don’t know why she disliked me so much; it had been that way since I was seventeen or so. It was really sudden too – one day she apparently became nasty to my mother, driving the latter to the point of tears. The next time I saw her, Jennifer had given me the slightest of chilly receptions. During the next ten years, I maybe saw her thrice. My dad once mentioned something about her saying I was a snob and began insulting me to such a degree that they got into an argument when he defended me. Since those were words coming from my father’s mouth, it was more than likely that the situation was exaggerated, but at least some part was true. Whatever it was, I knew I wouldn’t like it.

It’s a shame too since younger me always thought that she was “so cool”. In fact, a part of me felt like I was too nerdy to have her pay any attention to me. I actually thought that maybe it was because I was such a dork that she stopped liking me.

Now that I’m older and understand people better, I can finally verbalize my feelings. Though I’m worried about her reasoning for her abrupt hatred of me, I know that now I have the courage to ask her once and for all: Jennifer, what the fuck is your problem? Seriously, what could I have possibly frickin’ done at the age of seventeen that made you act like such a raging bitch? I know that you think you’re above everyone especially now that you’ve popped out two kids, so maybe you should finally grow up, take the stick out your ass, and be nice to your cousin. Love you!

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