I'm not metaphorically stung

I'm in WV for a few days to visit family and attend The Miller Family Reunion. I capitalize it because it's supossed to be a monumental occassion, but in reality it amounts to a pavillion, a couple thousand dishes of food and a lot of people pretending like this day is the perfect opportunity to a) show off or b) gripe. I get a third catergory, because I try to hide. My Father has tried to make me feel like I should rejoice in this familial occassion because everyone at this picnic loves me and is excited to see me. Bull. As is evidenced by Jerry Fussell (I use his name because I doubt that he will ever make it onto the internet, let alone my website.) He approached my Father, 2 sisters and I and proceeded to speak to us. After a few hugs which were punctuated by "Lisa!" and "Grace!" and a couple "Good to see yous", he turns to me and says "Now who's this?". Minus one, I have been to every family reuinion since 1984. My Father said "My Daughter, Jamie." And Fussell laughed, "You a friend?". My Dad, again, said " No, these are my three daughters." There were a few awkward moments while Fussell, who obviously didn't understand if he was being an unkowing jerk or having a trick played on him, looked at each of us. Finally, he said "Well, I don't remember ever seeing you before, but welcome to the family." Yep. Everyone is really excited to see me, the new-born-21-year-old-Miller. It actually didn't really bother me, because all that had happenned was the vocalizing of what everyone else is thinking as I walk through the sea of coridally smiling faces that don't even bother to turn to their neighbor and ask "Who's that?". They may not bother because they know I'm not one of them, or because they simply don't care. Their disinterest is probably the real reason, but I find it hard to be hurt by this because I don't care either. The bee sting I recieved minutes before the Fussell experience proved to be much more uncomfortable. Silly, really. That's what this family business is, silly.

Right now I'm sitting in my Uncle Jerry's cabin, which I have the good fortune of staying at for the two nights I'm here. I say good fortune not because I don't love my Grandmother or her house, but because when my Uncle Jerry says "Make yourself at home", he means it. He's one of the only people in my family that I actually feel like family around. That sentence will probably only make sense to certain people, but since I can't explain it any better, it will have to stand. I'm sitting in the living room and at any given time I can look through the window in front of me and see between 1 and 3 hummingbirds sucking nectar from the plastic red feeder about 5 feet away. My Father, my Uncle Jerry and a family friend named Jeff are in the backyard building a horseshoe pit (this seems ridiculously fitting) drinking coffee and smoking. My Uncle's girlfriend, Lisa and my sister who is also named Lisa are on the front porch talking. Grace and Seth are watching cartoons and I am doing what I do, documenting and making pointless comparisons and comments. Such is life.