I've been hearing a lot of people bitch about their families lately. First Dave's mom is in town, then Eustacia posted her rant, and I stopped to think again, how lucky I am. They don't know or understand everything in my life, but they don't feel the need to pry too much, either. While Dave's mom was in town, my dad called to reserve space on my couch this fall when he's coming up for a conference. My thought was "cool!", not the feelings of dread most people I know get when their parents are coming to town. I think there are a number of reasons for the fact that I actually get along with my parents, the main one being that both of my parents came from households with one big problem but a lot of love. (My dad's father was an alcoholic, my mom was an orphan at 12. Those are the big problems.) My mom's extended family is especially nifty -- they're all very generous with their love and gentle with their judgements. Case in point: the only cousin I know of who has basically incurred the permanent
disapproval of the family is the one who has been in and out of jail for DUI convictions, can't hold down a job because of his drug habit, has many children by different women, all of whom he has been barred from seeing because he neglects to actually take care of them if he's watching them. (At least sometimes. I have seen him act like a really good father, when he's sober and stuff.) I'm not planning on fucking up that badly, so I'm a good kid.
Mom & Dad & the rest of da fam, if you're reading this, know that I love you guys and GET YOUR NOSE THE HELL OUT OF MY JOURNAL. :) Current Mood: content