Fuck Easter

On the phone with my mom this weekend:

ME
None of my friends do anything for Easter.

MOM
They don't even go to church? What about the ones in Brooklyn? Dave and Jenny?

ME
Dave's Jewish, mom.

MOM
He is?

ME
David Cohen? You met him at graduation?

MOM
Oh yes! "Cohen" is a Jewish name, isn't it?

Then on Sunday, my dad fucking calls me. Third time in a fucking week. He calls me under the weak ruse of wishing me a "Happy Easter", then quickly asks me about my company. He sees the stock's so low, he's contemplating buying. THAT phone call ends in about 30 seconds.

I try to answer the phone when I see that my dad's calling only because I know I'm terrible at calling him back. But I swear, I'm not answering any more calls from him for a fucking month.

Sometimes I find it peculiar that my parents have no idea who I am.

Sometimes I feel so alienated from the world, I might just drift off into outer space.

MECCA OF THE MOUSE: E.P.C.O.T. Center