Tuesdays with Tina: A Weekend with Parents

My parents, 2008

My parents came to visit last weekend. It was one of the strangest visits yet.

Allow me to begin by saying I love my parents, as trying and turbulent as our relationship can be.

But my parents are kind of unusual.

My dad, a 6-foot-tall broad-shouldered man in his late 60s, presents the ideal image of a good ol’ country boy: self-sufficient, good morals and not very talkative.

My mom — a short Thai woman who smiles a lot and always speaks two notches too loud — has lived in the United States for more than two decades, but she still has an Asian accent and a view of American life mostly based on cable television.

They arrived around lunchtime Friday afternoon and we spent the next hour unpacking gifts: three types of leafy greens from my mom’s garden, homemade venison jerky, fresh pecans gathered in the orchard, and a small fortune of firewood that only cost my dad the time it took to cut it.

It’s about the norm.

After unloading the truck and eating lunch, we headed to The Haven Animal Shelter to look at puppies. We lost Rascal, the golden retriever my dad gave me when I was in kindergarten, in October last year. My dad and I were hoping my mom would fall in love with a litter of Labrador puppies and agree to adopt two of them.

She decided to think about it, especially since the puppies weren’t old enough to adopt yet.

So, we headed out for some shopping — hooray for free groceries — before going home to fix dinner.

It was relatively uneventful. My dad talked about some wild pigs that were causing problems in the area and my mom told my boyfriend and I about what she’d decided to plant in her garden this year.

They decided to call it a night around 10 p.m., much later than their normal bedtime, and planned to get up around 5:30 a.m. My dad wanted to arrive home with enough daylight left to bring hay to the cows.

Considering it was Friday night and a friend invited my boyfriend and I to a keg party at his place, it seemed natural for us to go out. My parents, only recently aware of how much we drink and attempting to be open-minded, told us to have a good time and went to bed.
My boyfriend and I arrived back home around 4:30 a.m.

Sometime in the middle of brushing our teeth and putting on pajamas, the guest room door creaked open. There were my parents, fully dressed and ready to go, with their bags in hand.

“Couldn’t sleep,” my mom said. “Need to get home to the cows,” my dad added.

A quick round of hugs and “love you,” a folded wad of cash pressed into my hand to help with monthly bills, and they were out the door.

It was almost as if my parents were upset with our behavior or felt awkward about the situation enough to want to leave in a hurry. But, because I understand them in a way only family can, I knew that wasn’t the case. They’re just like that.

…but it was still pretty odd.

Tuesdays with Tina

More color, more fun
February 2, 2010

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UPDATE: Found out Tuesday afternoon, the day this happy column was published, the puppy escaped Sunday night. If you have seen a beagle mix puppy in Lubbock, Texas, please contact me at tina.arons@ttu.edu.

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What a busy week! I’ve got a few tidbits of exciting news to report.

The biggest and most wonderful news is that the beagle-mix puppy I was fostering went to her forever home Thursday. I had to brave the snow and ice early Thursday morning to get her adoption papers from The Haven, but I’m really glad I did.

Peaches and Gaia, January 2010

The person who adopted her happened to be a Texas Tech student. When classes were canceled due to snow and ice, it freed him up to spend the snow day getting to know his new puppy.

I’m happy to report it seems like a great match. However, Gaia — my 9-month-old Labrador mix — misses her little friend. She’s been underfoot, begging for attention ever since.

Other exciting news in my life includes three gallons of brightly colored paint. After seeing a bang-up decoration job at a friend’s apartment last weekend, my boyfriend and I were inspired to throw some color on our walls.

We picked moss green, mac-and-cheese yellow and navy blue.

It’s the perfect start to my resolution about getting the most out of my youth. Waking up to a cheerful home is much more invigorating than the drab, neutral-colored walls we faced before.

It makes me feel like buying running shoes and going for a jog.

I probably won’t — I hate running outdoors and prefer to stroll leisurely — but it is a nice feeling regardless.

Repainting also has another benefit. My parents are coming to town this weekend. I’m hoping they focus on the brightly colored walls and less on the dog hair, which is almost impossible to remove entirely. It seems to always pool in the corners of our mostly tile floors, no matter how frequently I sweep and mop.

The last bit of news I’d like to share is about my blog. I began writing one when I was the features editor at The Daily Toreador last spring, and I’ve decided to start it back up again. I began neglecting it after I graduated last May, only occasionally posting links.

I’m hoping to find time throughout the week to update it with photos and interesting things I come across. Please check it out and tell me what you think.

Tuesdays with Tina

Saying goodbye to another of the ‘best years of my life’
January 25, 2009

I turned 22 years old today, and it’s kind of depressing how uneventful this birthday has been compared to the last one.

I’ve got this horrible feeling that, for the next eight years, I’ll be saying goodbye to each of the best years of my life. I fear that every year I’ll lose a little bit more of the glamor of youth and gain some frumpy new habits.

Some nights when I’m snuggled under a blanket and watching the nightly news with my boyfriend — dogs curled up near us and a home-cooked dinner in our stomachs — I feel prematurely grown-up and lame.

I suppose the truth is I’ve grown complacent, but I probably shouldn’t complain to much.

I’m fortunate to be able to attend graduate school and put off entering the workforce for a few years. I’m also fortunate to have such a great relationship with my boyfriend. And let’s not forget how lucky I am to have such a wonderful dog, too.

At the same time, I miss the unpredictable and often reckless memories I now rarely make.

Afternoon breakfast at IHOP or Tech Cafe while extremely hungover and wearing the same clothes as the night before happens much less often these days. And, no matter how many times I’m invited for drinks on Friday afternoon at Mesquite’s, I never seem to make it.

Responsibility or practicality gets in the way. The dogs need to get some exercise. I’ve got to buy groceries for the week. The laundry has piled up and needs to be done. It’s the perfect time to pay bills and budget for next month.

It’s not that I don’t go out and have a good time. Just a few weeks ago my boyfriend had to scoop me off the sidewalk outside Louie Louie’s. But that was a fluke. It’s certainly not the norm anymore.

And I’m not really sure how I feel about all of it.

I want things to change, but I don’t think I can ever go back to my life as an undergraduate student. I’d like to take advantage of more opportunities while I’m young and relatively untethered but in a different (less reckless and more sober) capacity than before.

So, I signed up for Turkish cooking classes. I’m going to check out the First Friday Art Trails in the next few months. My boyfriend and I have talked about making a trip to Palo Duro Canyon as soon as it gets warmer. And my best friend and I plan to find a dance or yoga class that fits into both our schedules.

I seriously doubt life will ever be as crazy as it was a year ago, but I can certainly keep myself from becoming too sedentary. I might be getting older, but I’m just not ready to sit at home and willingly listen to Jeff Klotzman’s happy talk every night.