Well, I love you more than the Sun, the stars, or the moon.

What a sweetheart!

And P-C, I don't think it's that your parents don't believe in *you* as much as they believe that only certain jobs will allow you to earn a living. The disconnect isn't their view of YOU; I believe it's their view of occupations in general.

I mean, your sister said it perfectly here:

Just remember, this is mommy and Pappa, they dont know that you can make a great living out of being a garbage man. To them, a good living comes from being only a doctor or an engineer.

I think her assessment is right on.

Sympathies, vw.

Cindy, I hope that helps and I'm glad you remembered it.

Yeah, but my parents, not so much. I'm so fucking glad they believe in me.

P-C, if someone told you they were going to become a world famous astronaut and walk on mars, would you necessarily believe them without finding out about the process and/or if they even had a chance? You would probably encourage them to go for their dream, but you probably don't have as much experience with heartache and broken dream rebuilding as your parents have had. Maybe, if you're the cautious sort, you'd encourage them to do something along with the pursuit of the astronaut dream, something that equaled decent living (at least the way you think of decent living) just in case the dream didn't work out so well. If you're the pessimistic sort, or, maybe life's just kicked you in the teeth a lot, and/or you're overly protective of the person, you might try to encourage them to forget the astronaut dream and encourage them to become an accountant so they never get hurt.

Long-winded, yeah. I just feel a little sorry for your parents, too. They must be pretty bewildered and scared by all of this. Writers, like artists, don't have a good reputation, stereotypically anyway, of being normal, well-adjusted, happy people, and that's worrisome when you're a parent who is geared toward traditional definitions of happiness.

Erm, or what Steph said, more succinctly, also less long-windedly, and with fewer words.

I love my job. I'm having to catalog a book on phallicism in religion and "the masculine cross". And the LoC has a call number for it. I would love to hear the lunch-time conversations over at the LoC.

Long-winded, yeah. I just feel a little sorry for your parents, too. They must be pretty bewildered and scared by all of this. Writers, like artists, don't have a good reputation, stereotypically anyway, of being normal, well-adjusted, happy people, and that's worrisome when you're a parent who is geared toward traditional definitions of happiness.

Yeah, I understand. But I haven't even said I'm going to be a starving artist. I'm trying to work for the goddamn pharmaceutical industry here. I'm going to be a sellout writer, dammit! For now.

Aaaand a recruiter just downloaded my résumé off MedZilla. I wish one of these fuckers would actually call me.

Yeah, but my parents, not so much.

Well, they produced three pretty great kids, they must be doing something right.

P-C, you've got a good sister there. What everyone else said, and stop driving yourself CRAXY with the résumé watch!

{{vw}} So sorry about the red tape tangle. My fingers are crossed for your mom.

Libkitty, feel better!

I didn't have to actually cross a picket line today, but there were some people outside my building. (I enter the campus on the other side, so I came up behind them.) I suspect that this corner is very popular with those who have to picket because there are lots of cars going by but, more important, three coffee shops with good offerings right nearby.

Aww, P-C, your letter made me miss my own sister. Only she's not 14 anymore, which makes her more fun to hang out with, but a bit less cute and adowable.

Also, I agree that your parents' fear, though not really ideal or a good picture of their understanding of the American environment, is not really a sign of lack of faith. It's not that they don't believe you can be a good writer, is just that they don't believe ANY writer can earn a living. They're afraid that you'll be poor and miserable, which hurts them, so they're keeping the options open to continue supporting you if their fears come true. I think it's as much a sign of their love for you as anything else.

The picking out a bride for you thing I have much less sympathy about, but I think that's a purely cultural disconnect of the type that is very, very hard to bridge.

Job~ma to all and sundry. Goodness. The application and interview gnomes have been busy.

I would love to hear the lunch-time conversations over at the LoC.

That would be fun. Although I suspect b.org is similar at times. I wonder if there's a companion book called "The Feminine Chalice" or suchlike.

Today is my wedding anniversary. I'm fairly sure Hubby doesn't remember, but I'm not going to say anything. I despise those situations where women use anniversaries and birthdays like some sort of trap or test. Just because he doesn't remember the exact day we got married on doesn't mean he lacks respect for the marriage or anything like that.

In any case, he's got lots of other things on his mind, like his health, his job prospects, my health, etc. He doesn't need extra grief from me on such a piddly thing.

For what it's worth, today is our legal 19th anniversary (we lived together for nearly a year before and got married just to formalize things and to stop upsetting landlords). I've said for years that I want to spend our 20th in Vegas, so I'm cool with bringing that up. If we don't manage to be in Vegas on June 14th, big whoop.

Today's my parents anniversary, too, connie. Also my uncle's birthday, which he wasn't very happy about on the actual wedding day (he was 7).

Here's to next year in Vegas!