( Monday, Jul. 15, 2002 5:12 pm )
>Fear, loathing, and anger management
The following people are deeply concerned about me:
1. My little brother--always on my case about what I'm doing with my life. Disdains my expensive PCU education, the lack of correlation between my schooling and job skills, and just generally my unfitness to appear cool to a 19-year-old frat boy. I'm a little pissed off at him, because he starts in on me every single time I see him, and it's gone from being funny and teasing to being aggressive and irritating. This is the problem all liberal arts majors have, trying convince people that there is abstract value in art and education that goes beyond money. I'll always believe literture is more important than a home entertainment system, and he never will.
2. My mother--tried to start a conversation with me like this: "If you had to draw a picture of your life right now, what do you think it would look like?" What is that Oprah bullshit? Do you recognize this stuff, because I'm sure she got it from some magazine somewhere. Blegh, premeditated talks. La la la la I can't hear you. She's also so different from me in personality that she does not understand reticence, shyness, silence. I'm frugal with words, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me. Maybe I have a contemplative personality. I listen when people talk to me, and I have to think before I answer, but she would never construe this as a positive trait.
3. Justine--I got so pissed a few nights ago because she was acting so holier than thou. I knew it was a bad idea to tell her I smoked pot, because now she clearly thinks I'm a substance abuser. But she also thinks I lack street smarts, which is somewhat true, but it's very insulting coming from her, because she came from my hometown too and still managed to go to school in Boston, hence she thinks I'm not as all-around worldly and prepared as she is.
So there you have it, I hate everyone I know, I guess. I'm just getting a little pissed off at these negative reactions to my move/lifestyle/lack of clear ambition, because isn't it my preogative to be a bit of a fuck-up in my early twenties? It's really keen that no one I know has any faith in me whatsoever. I make my own schedule, I keep my own council, and I answer to a higher authority than public opinion and if anyone has a problem with the open invitation to criticism I call my life, I cordially invite them to go fuck themselves. Everyone's got to jump up my butt with their concern, and it's only because I'm quiet, calm, and care more about what I want to do than about money or about what people will think. I think Whitman and Emerson will point me straighter than anyone I know. And I won't miss anyone in this town when I leave, that is for damn certain.
And listen, maybe I'm making the wrong decision. I get that feeling a lot lately, that any choices I'm making are apt to be the wrong ones. I get comfort from the fact that I can do whatever I want, ie try things, fail, and try something or someplace else, that's true, but I'd also like to jump into the trying with both feet, because it's the only life I've got. I want to be happy on the first try, you know? So I guess I can put myself down as the fourth person concerned about me, which gives me good reason to be mad at myself too. Fuck y'all: I am going to make a life out of my life,and I'm going to do it the way I want.
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