bitch and moan about dad's side of the family (and the ennagram)
06.30.02 @ 1:31 a.m.
It's not humanly possible for anyone to have read my last entry yet, so go back and read it, if you even care. On a whim, I just took an Ennagram personality test... for the hell of it, even though I hate the ennagram with a fiery, remarkable passion. And I hate 'rate your feelings on a scale of 1-5' tests. Anyway, it says I'm a five and I kinda agree with the little summary underneath. What gets me is that my dad loves the ennagram with the same intensity with which I hate it. I hate it, given time to think rationally, because my father is always foisting it upon me. Perhaps I'd weigh less if he weren't always pushing his diet of the moment, too. How can people who were once teenagers not understand the concept that the harder you push, the more resistance you get? I think my dad actually does, but he's fucking transparent. He tries to be all sly in trying to get me to do things, but he's not good at it at all. It's really rather sad. And just makes me fucking frustrated. Anyway, my point is that my dad goes on and on about how I'm a 9, just like him, the highest on the chart blahbity blah blah blah until I want to scream or worse. But this says I'm not. But there's some kind of delicious... I don't know what in finding something that contradicts all his "You and I are just the same" shit. Because I don't want to be like him. I don't like him. He's mean, manipulative, sulky, and often arrogant. Frequently arrogant, actually. None of his friends are 'good enough for him'... I hear this rant most often when he's had alcohol, though I don't think I've ever seen him drunk. He claims to have never been drunk in his life, but frankly, I don't believe it. I'm uncomfortable because his mother is more manipulative and a big drunk herself. She drinks tons of beer. She had Mom buy her some tonight. I think my aunt and uncle would rather think Grandma is charmingly eccentric in her love of beer. Mom and I think she's an alcoholic but daren't say anything to her or to Dad. It's not like it would accomplish anything. I think living all my life around my grandmother and knowing for most of it that she drinks too much is part of the reason alcohol holds no forbidden charm for me, the underage college student.
Sigh. That's enough of that. I should really get to bed.
Isn't it funny how the sixties obsessed girl loves drug induced movies, movies where angst ridden teens pop pills, drug inspired rock, but she doesn't like the idea of drugs, has no respect for people who actually use drugs, and rails against her lush old grandma? Strange, that.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
