I had a BIG fight with my dad tonight. I called him up to tell him about the new lighthouse stamps and to ask him if the tulip bulbs I sent him last year had come up yet (and I never even got to ask about the bulbs) and he just lit into me about protesters and how people who don't like what our country does should just move and a million other things that were just SO wrong that I just don't dare repeat them because they are so embarassing. As if I can't care about my country and also think that it can do wrong occasionally? And the thing that gets me is that he never calls me. Never ever ever. And my dad is one of my few relatives that I actually like. I mean, I like the rest of my family ok. I'm really fond of my two cousins, Becky and Erin. But as for other family that I call because I ENJOY talking to them or really LIKE? Well then it's only my dad. My brother and I have nothing to say to each other. I have to admit that I'm not especially fond of my mom. I WISH I liked my mom better, but I just find her difficult to like. But my dad... I like my dad. I respect my dad. I was really proud of him for thinking that maybe this whole war thing was stupid - but apparently once it starts - blind, stupid bullheaded patriotism 100% no matter what your true beliefs are. I am SO mad at him. I'm always seeking his approval too and I'm never ever going to get it. Not in a million years. He doesn't care what I do. He doesn't care if I live on the East Coast or the West Coast - near or far - it doesn't matter. I told him last year I was going to move to Maine and I was hoping that he'd be excited that I was moving closer, but his response was "Yeah? Well, David (my brother) is here and we're going to watch Armageddon now. So I'll talk to you later." I don't know why I keep hoping that one day he'll be proud of something I do or express some kind of interest. But I know he never will. So I should know better than to bother seeking it. It will lead me to nothing but heartbreak my whole life.

I also have to admit that right now, I don't feel like I should ever bother going home again. There's just nothing for me there anymore. My Aunt Evelyn died, my friends have all moved, and the rest of my family are just ... ugh. Unfortunately, the ... ugh is all I have. But going back means the continual disappointment and let downs and old hurts. I just want nothing to do with it anymore.