|A benefit of being short? You can do yoga in cramped spaces like these.|
This morning, Cynthia and I went to Freestone again for a zumba toning class. This was my first time doing zumba and it was a challenge having to do all that movement with weights in hand. It was fun, though! The instructor was energetic and I worked up a good sweat. Maybe when I get back home I'll try a regular zumba class.
middle school there and has been bugging me all week to come, and I wasn't enthusiastic about the idea. But sometimes he can be annoyingly persistent and it really couldn't be avoided. Plus, I've been spending all my time with Cynthia and J this week, and since Dad's the only one in this house that I'm actually related to I guess it'd be wrong not to spend time with him too. I guess. I don't absolutely hate the idea of spending time with Dad, but I didn't want to go because:
1) He never asked me if I wanted to go. He wanted me to come so he decided on his own that I would. He'd say things like, "I can't wait for you to meet my students," or "Are you excited to come visit me at the school?" But the explicit, considerate question "Would you like to come visit my school?" never came out of his mouth.
2) I knew that he would only parade me around the school to his staff and his students, bragging about how brillant and perfect and intelligent I am, as if those things were true and as if he had had something to do with it.
And that's exactly what he did. He dragged me around campus, interrupting every single class so that all of his staff and all 90 of his students would know who I was. I felt used. I know most parents like to brag about their children, but he's so obnoxious about it that it's sickening. Seriously, you're the principal and you're interrupting every single class just so you can put me on display? Come on, now! And then, he'd try to introduce me or explain to his students how much of an example I was, but he couldn't get the facts straight.
Dad (to a room full of students): This is my daughter, Danielle. She goes to the University of Michigan.
Me (to him): Michigan State University, they're completely different schools.
Dad: Oh right, right. Michigan State.
Dad (to another classroom): She took all AP classes in high school. [false] And Danielle, what year did you graduate, 2006?
[Students in the class giggle because it's so embarrasingly obvious that he doesn't know what he's talking about.]
He knows nothing about me, hardly raised me, and had little to nothing to do with my success in school and life. Yet he wants to take credit for it all and show me off like I'm some trophy. He's phony and he's arrogant, and that is why his bragging is its own especially nauseating flavor of obnoxious. However, I must give him credit for getting one thing right:
Dad: She got her brains from her mom.
Like I said, I knew this would happen so I wasn't surprised. But it wasn't all bad. All of the teachers and staff were really nice and a lot of the students were pleasant. And I guess in some way it's always interesting to go to your parent's job and actually see what they do everyday.
After all that, Cynthia and I rode back through the desert the way we came, so I got some nice photos of the mountains and the landscape.
Despite my ordeal, today was a welcome change since I actually went out and did something. But I have to say that tomorrow is my last day here and I am beyond excited to go back to Michigan!