Easter redux

Happy Easter! This is the one pivotal holiday around which Christianity is based, so of course Adventists celebrate it badly, because it happens on Sunday. Try as valiantly as they might, it just doesn't feel quite right to go around greeting each other with a hearty, "He is risen, sort of!" "He is risen indeed! Or, like, He will be tomorrow!" I suppose it is a grand testament to our faith that we know the resurrection will occur, and we're so certain of it that we can celebrate it prematurely, but there really is nothing like a good ol' Lutheran sunrise service. Which, coincidentally, we went to this morning. It was good, so good in fact, that I would have gone even without the promise of communion wine. Unfortunately, it did in fact start at sunrise, so I can't really remember much about the sermon except that the pastor shouted a lot and told a story that would probably be emotionally moving at a later hour of the day. So this was a pretty nice start to the morning, but after that, we all had to hang around the house all day, and let me tell you, I wish I had managed to finagle some of the extra consecrated wine to bring back with me, because living with my family is not something that one would want to do sober. (That's not too shockingly sacrilegious, right?)
In general, I don't think I really like going home on weekends that much. Sure, if I stayed at school, I'd have to deal with stoners, and vomiting partiers, and very possibly drunk Michael trying to hit on me, but is that really any worse than this bleak house in which I now reside? (that was a reference to the Dickens novel, although to be honest, my house really and truly is fairly bleak) We're all working out our Psychological Issues, which is surely very good for us, but it's not at all pleasant. As the frontrunner, I've already been to nary a physician, and even the odd mental hospital, and am further along in the process than everyone else, so it seems to be my job to bring levity to an otherwise hopeless situation. Which isn't easy. It might seem like a simple thing to do– every Romantic heroine in the Western canon seems to have managed it neatly, after all– but with these people, one has to be Very Wary at all times. Dad is antagonizing Talia– better stave that off– now to cheer her up. But oh no, now Dad has gone on to badger Mom, and a tremendous argument is brewing! Gotta get in the way of that– manage it delicately, mediating between two titans is a tricky business– and now to soothe both their ruffled feelings as they depart on separate sides of the proverbial stage. But no, say it's not so! Dad has built himself up to yell at someone, and he won't be appeased until he's done it. Poor Anselm is the target– better rescue him. And now who's calling on Skype to ask for more money to pay his rent? On and on the cycle goes, until the world is blue in the face, but there's no rest for any of us. Ignoring for the moment the fact that even I am sometimes hard-pressed to make jokes about syntax when my chest is humming with anxiety and my brain feels like it's about to wither up and fall out my nose, let me remind you, gentle reader, that this is not the most difficult part of the business. For some reason, everyone has made me a repository for their various secrets– often the ones concerning other family members– and I have to keep them, but I have to also find a way to use them wisely in order to maintain (or dare I say, improve!) everyone's health and happiness. I don't think ambassador work would be anything after this. Is this how normal people live? Really, I don't know what is or isn't normal anymore (except that this isn't). Tonight promises to be more of the same, only there is an added element, because Apo is coming to dinner. Dad doesn't like her, and Mom is extremely defensive of this, and she's extremely hard of hearing, so any jokes I make have to be simple and audible and not too inflammatory, because Dad can start a fight with a toothpick. It's sort of like a puzzle, which I would enjoy in the abstract, only it's our lives and not variables on a paper, and that dampens the effect. I'm gearing myself up for a showdown right now. Oh, and another piece! At this moment, Talia's detestable boyfriend is upstairs, sliming all over our possessions, and no doubt making a complete nuisance of himself. There aren't many people whom I dislike (Tony Abbott and Iggy Azalea being exceptions), but I can say with all certainty that Edward McGrossFace is just about the worst person I've ever met. Not only is he hideously boring, he's quite rude, and highly delusional in that he thinks he has excellent social skills, and touts them frequently. He is also spectacularly thoughtless, and occupies our house for hours and hours at a time because he doesn't want to inconvenience his own parents. That's only the tip of the iceberg, though. His relationship with Talia is textbook abusive, from complete control, to emotionally manipulative remarks, to isolation from friends and family, to flat-out insults and lovely utterances like "You don't deserve me," and on and on. Talia is only a shadow of her former self, and it makes me sick to see this happening to her, but there's nothing I can do. It's her life, and she has to figure it out on her own. But you don't know how hard it is not to interfere! I've always looked out for my siblings (Xander too, even though he's older than I am), and now, in this horrible situation, I'm supposed to leave my poor little sister to fend for herself? I know full well that it isn't my place to interfere, but even now, I want to run upstairs and tell Edward exactly what he should do (and where he should stick it). UGH. Anyway, he might be staying to dinner too, and if he does, all my plans are out the window. How am I supposed to be Lucie Mannette to my mentally ill shoemaker family when Heathcliff is sitting across from me? This is terrible. Oh, I hear his dulcet tones in the hall. Is he leaving? Please tell me he's leaving. Go away, you dick. Yes, finally. Okay, I should probably go help clean up in the kitchen or something. I'm being fairly useless right now, hiding away in the library with my guinea pig like a Franciscan hermit. Happy Easter, then, and may you have a more delightful night than we surely will!