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- As you probably gathered, I had a huge row with my parents yesterday, that started when my father called me to tell me I was a terrible daughter who didn't love her mother because I hadn't, in fact, called my mother in the last seven days. While I often call my mom twice a week, I can also usually get to it only every ten days or so. Nothing I had done was out of the ordinary, and that it never occurred to my father to ask how I was or wonder if I hadn't called because something was wrong was pretty outrageous and then cycled through all the usual shit wherein I only exist in relation to their desires and apparently fail at life because of my sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll lifestyle (note: I have seen and done a lot, but even at my party hardiest you'd be hard pressed to describe my life like that even though it totally included all those things).
- Adding insult to the usual injury was that I had sent my parents email not five minutes earlier with some photos in it and some links to the Victory of Eagles coverage. Photos and my parents are always complicated as they have a lot of fun with my ability to costume and are certainly used to me playing the boy (often at their encouragement in my childhood). On the other hand, after I came out to them they've kept asking if there's anything else they need to know, and so I work hard to understand that their antennae are up for some sort of trans drama that actually isn't going to happen but I'd still like to not have an argument about -- the nuances of my life and the aggressiveness of my advocacy for others aren't things they comprehend. So I sent them the fabulous black and white polaroid, because it is amazing, but only with the girly photo from last night too. Of course, though, because of the drama my father is refusing to read his email, because that would refute his notion that I'm the horrible person he says I am.
- Finally, on that front, my father has had a severe ear infection for several months and is on hardcore drugs for it. It seems like it's being quasi resistant, though, at least from what is being described to me. I have a bad feeling about the whole thing. Something ongoing, essentially minor, but refusing to heal at my father's age is not a good sign and someone should probably be panicking instead of yelling at me.
- Rob Breszney's ability to keep up with my neuroses as displayed via my obsessions is AMAZING:
- Work: slowly unfucking, at least partially. Money is almost current and they are at least now working with me on the health insurance issue, where the snafu, which originally started with my office may now be with the insurance co.
- Started Doctor Who, Series 3 last night.
- Still need to deal with that whole TV/cable thing before Patty comes home. I'll call in tomorrow since I'm trying to slam through some deadlines today.
- Days should never be so hard that you feel like you have personal integrity just for getting through them.
- 1 week.
- Adding insult to the usual injury was that I had sent my parents email not five minutes earlier with some photos in it and some links to the Victory of Eagles coverage. Photos and my parents are always complicated as they have a lot of fun with my ability to costume and are certainly used to me playing the boy (often at their encouragement in my childhood). On the other hand, after I came out to them they've kept asking if there's anything else they need to know, and so I work hard to understand that their antennae are up for some sort of trans drama that actually isn't going to happen but I'd still like to not have an argument about -- the nuances of my life and the aggressiveness of my advocacy for others aren't things they comprehend. So I sent them the fabulous black and white polaroid, because it is amazing, but only with the girly photo from last night too. Of course, though, because of the drama my father is refusing to read his email, because that would refute his notion that I'm the horrible person he says I am.
- Finally, on that front, my father has had a severe ear infection for several months and is on hardcore drugs for it. It seems like it's being quasi resistant, though, at least from what is being described to me. I have a bad feeling about the whole thing. Something ongoing, essentially minor, but refusing to heal at my father's age is not a good sign and someone should probably be panicking instead of yelling at me.
- Rob Breszney's ability to keep up with my neuroses as displayed via my obsessions is AMAZING:
In the same way, Libra, fixing the problems that are vexing your personal sphere must be the task of the whole group, not just the boss or leader. I suggest you work on convincing everyone to take more responsibility and be more accountable.
- Work: slowly unfucking, at least partially. Money is almost current and they are at least now working with me on the health insurance issue, where the snafu, which originally started with my office may now be with the insurance co.
- Started Doctor Who, Series 3 last night.
- Still need to deal with that whole TV/cable thing before Patty comes home. I'll call in tomorrow since I'm trying to slam through some deadlines today.
- Days should never be so hard that you feel like you have personal integrity just for getting through them.
- 1 week.
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