爸爸！

My dad is coming to visit tomorrow! He comes to China on business and I was lucky enough to get to see him three times last year (twice in Weihai and once in Shanghai). Because of the economy, we didn't know if he'd be able to come at all this year. But, there's a big show and an opportunity to visit several clients, so here he comes. Of course, I'm so excited. I don't know exactly what his schedule will be like during the week, but I'll have next Saturday off and we'll be able to spend it together before he leaves. I haven't finished cleaning the apartment and I haven't figured out exactly what we'll do (depending on the weather, I guess).

But. I've been kind of edgy lately and have been getting hives on my face. (This is what edgy people do when they're feeling especially edgy. Welcome to my stratum of high-strungness). I didn't really know what the deal was: was it because I work more during the week than last year and can't constantly entertain him? Am I afraid he's going to tell mom how dusty the apartment is and together they will worry about my lungs/asthma? Is it because he asked me to show him where the "hip clubs" are (and before tonight, when we went to a jazz bar with international micro-brews, I had no idea)?

No. As I walked home in the rain (sans umbrella because, although I'm a list maker with a spacious purse, I am often caught unprepared), it dawned on me. I have known it the whole time and not acknowledged it. It's because my dad is coming to stay with me and my boyfriend. Yup, I'm a cohabitator.* Or, as my dad said when I was home over Christmas, "So, are you and Nick going to be roommates?" Yes, one bed(room apartment) roommates. Not much like the other roommates I've had.

And my dad will be sleeping on our couch and judging us and trying to get me to go to church at 6am. (He figured out how to get there on the subway and emailed it to me. eek.)

I think it'll be okay, really. I'm just afraid he'll wanna talk about it or something. Probably not, though, as the aforementioned conversation consisted of the above question and my no-eye-contact, "yep."


In lighter news, he will be spending St. Patty's Day with me again this year (last year I was visiting him in Shanghai), which should be fun. It's on Tuesday and we're hosting a party at the school (which I think he'll attend) with Celtic cross-making contests (I'll try to get him to keep his shirt on), limerick recitations, and of course green beer and drinking games. I probably haven't given it as much thought as I should have, but it's basically a two hour English Corner with twice as many students and two teachers. Plus beer, so what could go wrong? Well, because I have this tendency to picture the absolute worst thing that could happen**, I have imagined being deported for the cross-making contest, but that seems unlikely.

I mentioned a few of these things to my coworkers: Dad and his giant cross tattoo, him trying to make me go to church, and his staunch support of St. Paddy's Day celebrations, and somehow people were under the impression that my dad was a preacher. And a hardcore Catholic. Now, maybe you know more about Catholicism than my coworkers, but uh, most Catholic priests don't have kids, since they're not allowed to marry. I think the ones who do are widowers. I tried to make some joke about how he was just coming over here to preach the gospel of semiconductors, but that didn't come across at all, and the boss just started talking about how Dad could bless the beer. We'll see what happens.


* Spellcheck wants to change "cohabitator" to "cohabitant," which sounds kind of zooey to me for some reason. I left it my way.

** This is what I do when I get scared driving. It seems counter-intuitive, I know, but picturing my Saturn flipping into the air and bursting into flames when I go more than 25 mph thought the Lowry Hill Tunnel helps me acknowledge how silly my fears are. This doesn't work with everything: for instance, picturing elevators plummeting down the shaft with a broken cable tends to scare me. (Note: I'm not crazy with this whole elevator thing; only the ones with glass walls (and 97% of escalators) scare me.