So I have good news and bad news.
The bad news is that my laptop is broken. It went kaput, died. I don't know why, but when I tried to start it up this morning, it went to this page that said Windows was having trouble starting and would I please select if I wanted it to load normally or in safe mode, and neither one worked. My brother and father think that the motherboard is shot, so I need a new computer -- which I probably won't get for at least a month, because my dad needs to pay for lots of other stuff first.
However, the good news is that my dad -- completely awesome father he is -- is going to get me a brand-new red Dell Mini within the next sixty days. The laptop is completely adorable and just... me. It is about ten inches and only about $339 dollars, so my dad is definitely going to get it for me. And it's new! For the first time, I'm getting a computer that isn't used, old, or breaking down. And I am so freaking excited, because I'm going to get it in time for NaNoWriMo this year!
I have an amazing dad, don't you think?
So I have good news and bad news.
Tonight should have been a fun night. I went out to Pizza Hut with my youth group, had a good time, as I pretty much always do with my youth group, but then, as soon as I got in the car with my sister and her husband, things started going downhill.
I am SO SICK of them making assumptions about my family. I am SO SICK of them thinking that I am "obsessed" with writing. I am SO SICK of them thinking my dad has a problem just because he doesn't get me the most expensive things for Christmas. I am SO SICK of them assuming things that AREN'T EVEN TRUE. I am FED-UP with them thinking I don't go to church just because I CHOOSE not to go to church.
And yet they continue doing it, and we keep getting into these stupid fights, and I just want it to stop. Can't they STOP making judgments just ONCE?
They don't understand anything about what my family and I go through. They don't understand it at all, they make assumptions, make me feel guilty, make my dad and brother feel terrible, and then they keep doing it over and over and over and over and over and over again like a freaking broken record. They can STOP making us feel INFERIOR and UPSET and ANGRY over things that we CAN'T change or things that we are trying to CHANGE and would be ABLE to change if they would actually HELP instead of getting on our backs for every little thing we do WRONG.
My family is not perfect, but at least, we try. Whether or not they can see it, we TRY.
I just wish they would learn the whole meaning behind the teaching that you shouldn't judge the people around you. Then things would be better.
I am just... exhausted from them.
They make me feel as though I have to be perfect.
And you know what?
I can't be perfect. Sorry to disappoint.
You see, during supper, all three of us (my dad, my brother, and I) were talking about homosexuality. At first, it was a conversation about Obama's choice of Rick Warren to give the inauguration invocation, but it evolved (haha) into a conversation about homosexuality.
Honestly, I'm all for gays being treated just like any other decent human being on the planet (although I have some very specific ideas of how to resolve the "same sex marriage or no?" issue), even though I might not consider homosexuality moral, as such.
So I got slightly snippy when I brought up Prop 8, how I thought it was wrong what California did, and he said this:
"If they don't like it, they should just go and live on a deserted island."
Those weren't his exact words, but they were close. I got angry about that (you can't ostracize someone from society just because of their sexual orientation), he said "I'm not saying we should do that," I said, "I know, but they don't want to live on a deserted island because hey, you know, they're people too and they want to be treated that way in society, not living huddled together on a little deserted island," or something like that, and he said again, "I'm not saying we should."
And I blew up. "I KNOW THAT, DAVID!"
There was silence for a few minutes after I said that. Like I said yesterday, there must be something wrong with my hormones. Maybe it'll clear up in a few days.
But honestly, my brother seriously ticks me off sometimes. His views are even more conservative than mine, even more conservative than my dad's. And while my dad isn't ultra-conservative, he's a bit more conservative than I am.
My brother... really needs to get out. He can't experience the world through a computer screen. (Neither can I, I know, but I'm working on that.)
BeliefNet's Belief-o-Matic Survey
( Results )
The results were pretty much exactly what I anticipated, although I was surprised with how high Mormonism was on the list.
It felt nice to do something with my family for once. Even though they annoy and frustrate me, they're still my family and I love them. We haven't played games in a while, so it was nice to play for four hours. I never even got bored!
My brother won most of the games (probably because he was the scorekeeper, wink wink), but my grandmother won a few. And I was so determined to win a game that I insisted on another round of Greed (a dice game), which I won by... more than a thousand points, I think.
I also went to youth group yesterday, and that was fun, even though I am still too much of a chicken to ever tell my crush that I like him. Regardless, I enjoyed it; my sister always does the best lessons and she really made me want to read my Bible more often. I am toying with the idea of starting my read-through of the entire Bible and posting my thoughts here as I go along. Would anyone be interested in that?
If so, comment here and I'll add you to a filter. The posts, however, probably won't start until January.
Today, it was a typical Saturday. I went to the library, got four books, went to the store with my father, and then came home. I have already started one of my books, Red: The Next Generation of American Writers—Teenage Girls—On What Fires Up Their Lives Today, edited by Amy Goldwasser, and I'm currently sixty pages into it.
It's amazing so far. I first heard of it from Bookslut's review, and it is just so empowering, to read all these tales by teenage girls, just like me, who are as passionate as I am and just have this utter realness about them that just bounds off the page. And it's nice to hear the opinions of real teenage girls, although I have to wonder: Would it be possible to give teenage guys the same opportunity to speak their minds? Now that would be interesting.
You know, though, I wish I could be like some of those girls. The problem is that I am shy. Crippingly so. And self-conscious. Crippingly so. And I have no clue what I can do about it. Maybe something in this book will help somewhat.
Since I grew up in a fairly conservative home, the only books forbidden to me were, ironically, the books that made me so dedicated to becoming an author: Harry Potter. My mother and father were rather anti-Harry for a while there, but my mother moreso than my dad was. They thought it promoted witchcraft, instilled false values, blah blah blah.
Considering I was my parents' little girl, I agreed with them. In fact, I remember an incident in third grade where parents had to sign a slip giving the teachers permission to show PG movies (that whale movie, Harry Potter), and I believe I was the only one whose parents refused to sign the slip purely because of the mention of Harry Potter on the list. Apparently they didn't want me watching it because of the wizardry, as typical.
Of course, my sister, River, had already read the Harry Potter books and enjoyed them. For a few years, I refused to read them because of my parents' reactions to them, but then in either... fourth or fifth grade, I think, I succumbed and read the first five.
I enjoyed them, as is obvious, but my mother threw a fit. My dad was all right with it (he thought that as long as I didn't go off the deep end and think it was fact, reading them was fine), but wow, my mother was angry. She went all "Harry Potter promotes witchcraft and you should not be reading it" on me, ignoring her endorsements or at least indifference to books such as the LoTR series and the Narnia chronicles. I distinctly remember lying in bed in my room, hearing my mom rail on and on about Harry Potter, and me screeching that Harry Potter wasn't the only books that had witchcraft in it and that she had no problems whatsoever with me reading the Narnia series.
She eventually stopped pestering me about it, but she refused to read any of my fanfic. The only time I gave it to her, she ended up throwing it out at the slightest mention of witchcraft. Needless to say, I never gave her another fanfic again.
However, it's kind of funny, because without Harry Potter entering my life, the best things wouldn't have either. If I hadn't gotten acquainted with the Harry Potter fandom at such a young age and become part of a group that loved both Harry Potter and writing, then my writing would be a lot worse than it is now. I wouldn't have even considered being an author beyond a vague muttering in the back of my head every once in a while. But Harry Potter restored the love of writing to me after I wrote that first Harry/Ginny fanfic, way back when I was nine or ten.
Since then, I've been writing nonstop, pursuing my dream of becoming an author. Isn't it funny how the one thing forbidden to you can end up being one of the best things that's ever happened to you? I find it so. :)
(And yes, this thing was long-winded. Sorry 'bout that, just had a lot to say.)