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2003-05-14, 4:37 p.m.:
I just need to vent a little.

I know that you�ve already read about your fair share of my family issues. And I honestly never wanted this diary to turn into a forum for my woes. However, I need to vent, and I don�t know where else to do it.

My mother is a spoiled little girl. Even my father, her husband of almost 27 years, says this. She was raised with money growing up, and has never had a job outside of being �wife� and �mother� for more than a month. I use the terms wife and mother loosely, because she is barely either. Since she doesn�t work outside of the house, my father has certain expectations for her. Little ones, like going to the grocery store since he works 70+ hours a week to support her whims. She doesn�t really care about what he expects her to do, instead she would rather go out for coffee, watch TV, or putter around in her garden. Because of this, she and my dad are either arguing (honestly I don�t know how they�ve stayed together so long), or he is spending his weekend reeking of resignation and doing the household chores. As far as her capabilities as a mother, while she does fiercely love her children, she has always been more of a friend than a mother, and more often than not she has needed the mothering herself.

My father, the recovered drug addict/alcoholic, has done everything possible to make up for the rough childhood we had. Other than his annoying habit to coddle my brother, he is a pretty great Dad. His present support make up for his past transgressions, in my eyes.

So, these people I call my parents, they aren�t perfect, right? Neither am I, but still, I just don�t know what I have to do to make these people proud of me.

The last time I can remember my mother being truly proud of the future laid out in front of me was when I was engaged to a guy that was on a billion-dollar-career-track. Soon after I called off that disastrous, Bad-Idea-Jeans-wearing engagement, I graduated from college, with two degrees and honors, after supporting myself for all five years. My parents chose to focus on the fault that I had no concrete career plans, rather than my achievement. When I got a job doing theatre in Eastern Europe right after graduation, they chose to worry and fret that I wasn�t making a responsible choice, rather than congratulate me and wish me luck with my exciting new job. When I sold my car and moved to New York City for the experience, they worried and tried to bribe me into coming home on several occasions.

Now, I am home. I am the only one of their children with a real job, and it is a good one. I live on my own, have my own car, and a boyfriend that loves me and supports me unconditionally. And my family can�t be completely proud of me. I found out today that some of my family members are �worried� about me. Worried. When I dug a little deeper to find out exactly why they are worried, I found out that it is because they don�t think C. will ever be able to support me so I can live the lifestyle I am accustomed to.

First of all, the hell? Last I checked I have a very well paying job and a lot of job security, a rare and admirable feat in this economy. Secondly, since when are we living in the �50�s again? I need a man who can financially support me? What if I want him to stay home and raise the kids while I work? What if we don�t ever want kids? WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER AT ALL?

My mother is the most immature, shallow person in my world. She has the gall to call me whining about how she has issues with my relationship. Issues. She has Issues with the fact that he�s back in school getting a second degree rather than making oodles of money. She has Issues with the fact that he�s a professional musician. She has Issues with the fact that he�s my height and weight, not a big hulking �protector� of a guy. She has Issues with the fact that we live together and are not planning on getting married anytime soon. She does not, however, have Issues with my 21-year-old sister moving in with her 27-year-old boyfriend of three months, because hey, he�s loaded. Good for her!

I am finally realizing that for all the times I am happy with my family, there are twice as many times where they break my heart. I�ve been so busy today with work, yet I just lost three hours crying and venting and writing this entry. I can�t take this anymore. I don�t have to. At some point you�ve got to realize that as nice as a close family sounds, it just doesn�t happen for everyone. It took me 26 years, but I get that now.

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