back to reality

The only thing that sucks about being back at home is actually being back at home. Really, it's like I never left. My dad is still same old annoying man who can't get over his own inferiority complex. My mom is still trying to tell me how to live. And I'm still astounded by the fact that it's like my sister and I don't exist in the world of family. This morning, I awoke to the sound of my dad's loud ass voice in the backyard. He thinks it's his personal office. Maybe he doesn't realize there are NO WALLS and the whole block can hear him! Okay, maybe not the whole block, but definitely our immediate neighbors. Think how loud the man must be in order for me to hear his conversations clearly from upstairs.

Anyway, he was talking to my auntie in Germany and he only updated her on my brother. I found that so very wrong on so many levels. Hello! We exist! You have two other children. Fine, they may not be born with penises, but trust me, we're better off that way. Heaven forbid there were three conceited people in this house.

I have an interview this afternoon. My heart obviously isn't in this position. I could care less. The one and only thing that's wishing I get offered the position is the fact that my parents know about this interview, and they'll just have further reason to criticize me. Such bullshit. I'm in my mid-twenties...why do I still care what they think?

Last night when the plane was landing into LA, I had this sudden coughing attack. It was as if my body was having a natural reaction to where I was headed. I couldn't stop coughing. It was that embarassing cough attack where all I needed was water, but no water to be found. That moment was so indicative of my return to Hell-A. The first thing I wanted to do when I came home was leave.