a break from the theme to a point

most of my rants on here are about men, women and relationships... to celebrate the special day, i'll rant on a related, but different topic. today's rant: the stupid family pressure of that most wonderful time of the year (I'm saying this as I drink a scotch, mind you, because my family fucking makes me want to kill something).

Um...

my brother informed me tonight that I'm self-righteous for not wanting kids and working on preserving something beyond my lifetime that isn't for "someone I love and who loves me". he also disapproves that i am involved in something that isn't a relationship and doing something that isn't a job to him.

um, fuck him. sorry i don't want to work 40 hours a week, drive an hour to work and back and have two kids and a stay-at-home wife (or i guess it would be husband in my case). god, how fucking boring.

maybe nothing will work out with the guy in the bay area. maybe i won't end up going into academia. but i won't do something if it doesn't make me happy. i'd rather be happy than trapped in a life that makes me miserable.

i hate being here right now. i hate christmas, i hate my family pretty much. no, i haven't outgrown loathing my family. they are screwed up, really, and they pretty much don't want me. they want someone who doesn't exist that is certainly not me. i don't go to church. i am not going to marry. i am not going to reproduce. they aren't supportive, they are obsessive about fixing me. there's nothing wrong with me.

the worst thing about approaching thirty is this sudden flash of memories and feelings i thought long buried in the past: really, i was pretty much the kid that fucked everything up. i was one mouth too much to feed, i was the kid my father really didn't want to have, the girl that my brothers didn't bother including into anything, the child that my mother pinned all of her own hopes and dreams on. all of my life growing up i loathed that combined misery of all of that, of how my mother thought that i should have "everything she didn't", of how my father really was pissed that my mother decided to have me, of how my brothers really didn't have room in their boys club for a sister who they would treat as an equal. if anyone ANYONE ever wonders why i am perpetually angry and want to have nothing to do with my relations, it is mostly because of that. having to raise one's self emotionally and mentally, having people either loathe you or want everything from you is not something a child should ever be subjected to. i went through the worst emotional shit in my life before i was eighteen years old. nothing even the worse shithead male has ever done to me can begin to equal that. there is still the fucking angry ten year old inside of me that hates my parents for never allowing me to have the luxury of a happy childhood, or an innocent one in any way. my family stole the first part of my life from me; the rest of it is mine to do with as i fucking please and they can kiss my ass. i live up to my standards, not theirs and their standards are stupid. retarded. bourgeois, christian southern bullshit. racist. immoral by their own standards (a homeless guy offends them, for fuck's sake). they think if someone's homeless, it's their own fault (wtf?).

literally, fuck them. next year, i'm going elsewhere for the joyous season.