Tuesday, November 21, 2006

I Expect an Ulcer
I think I'll be spending the majority of my teenage years being pissed off at something or someone. Right now it's my dad, a common target of my anger. Why? I'll tell you.

Casey lent Lisa his V for Vendetta DVD, and I'm gonna go over to her house to watch it tonight. I mentioned it to my dad, and he looked quizzical, so I explained the plan. He replied with, "I still don't get why you want to see it." I told him that a bunch of my friends really liked it and it looks and sounds so awesome, I just ought to see it at some point, and he grumbled about how he hadn't heard good things about it. We bristled at each other a bit and then he started telling me that he didn't like a movie where the terrorist is the good guy. I got seriously pissed here. I interpret this as him being afraid that watching this movie will turn me into a horrible person, which he damn well knows isn't gonna happen. I told him this, and he kept saying how it had made some people do protests and junk, and cited a recent incident where people "wandered around downtown in V for Vendetta costumes" to protest the war--this is a bad thing how? People are A) allowed to protest the war and B) allowed to dress up in whatever the hell kind of costume they want as long as it doesn't surpass the boundaries of decency, and even at Otakon people wear more threatening costumes than a mask and a cape! "NATIONAL SECURITY IS BEING THREATENED; TOO MANY PEOPLE ARE WEARING THE SAME OUTFIT!!" Yeah, mmkay. I tried to end it with, "Well, it's a good thing I didn't invite you to see it with me then, isn't it?" but he wouldn't shut it. I tried to convince him once again that watching a movie was not going to turn me into a terrorist overnight, and he said, "No, but it'll make you a pretty unpleasant person--but you seem to have that problem already." That snapped me. I am sixteen and old enough that I can make my own moral decisions and deal with the ramifications (the law even thinks so), thank-you-very-much. I am not five and about to go shoot people because it looks cool on TV, and I certainly know that what I see on television and read in books is not necessarily real, and by no means an automatic example of something to be emulated. I feel very, very insulted. I don't believe I'll share any deep feelings with him any time soon. He can go sulk with his bloggers and his 50's band music while I have level and fair conversations with my mother, free from excruciating bias and utter idiocy. I will not be personally insulted because I choose to watch a movie with my friends.

I can't think of anything supportive he's done for me at all within the past couple of years. When I was breaking down emotionally, it was my mom who helped me decide to work against it. When I became opinionated about gay marriage, it was my mom who duscussed the idea with me. When I feel lonely because my beloved lives in a different state, I go to my mom. When I'm sick, I go to my mom. When I feel miserable or when I want to do something fun, I go to my mom. I tried going to my dad a few times. It did not work so well. He is apparently too busy with his opera and his retro TV shows and his online news sources to do much more than his daily allotted chores. He rarely takes me on outings, or watches something I want to watch with him. He just doesn't seem to care as much about me as he does himself. I wouldn't demand it from anyone but a parent. I would do anything for my parents, but he can't be bothered to do more than drive me to school in the morning or lend me an Orff CD. I don't understand daddy's girls. And I don't know what to do with this man in my house.
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