Okay, I know I actually make a pretty good living, but compared to other people in my family I am an utter loser.
Other people in your family don't have a space ship in their back yard.
'Potential'
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Okay, I know I actually make a pretty good living, but compared to other people in my family I am an utter loser.
Other people in your family don't have a space ship in their back yard.
How does this not make you a great human being.
Fair enough. No matter how good their medieval theology or corporate law or institutional networks knowledge, my family will never know the scifi trivia I do.
And in a fine example of Worlds Syncing Up, we had a long discussion about this last night at the readthrough of You Can't Take It With You - how Paul frets that he should have been an architect or something that would make his daughter Alice proud (she *is* proud and happy that he followed his own goofy star, but she also wants a more "normal" life).
My mother says that I am outstripping her, but the coolest thing is that she's now started her own theater company in Fairbanks, and is producing some of the best stuff up there. That makes me very happy.
I don't have a lot to measure up against, except my mother's capacity for "playing hurt". Which y'all know I suck at...stiff upper lip and all that is just not my style.
The guilt I used to get growing up (which has luckily stopped in recent years) is: "your father wanted so much for you". Dead parent guilt is impossible. My whole family loves to pull out the "you're so intellegent how could you, waste it, not have a degree, ect".
I had a philosophical statement to make about set paths and "should"s and the pitfalls of high expectations, but I couldn't figure out how to say it in a way that didn't sound like a thousand cliches that have been spewed before, and besides I'm a bit distracted because...
I want cheese.
Whereas some of us just, er, sit around a lot. Watching scifi shows and playing computer games. Oh, and drinking, when we can drag our lazy assess off the couch to track down alcohol.
If you were as smart as your parents you'd know to tuck a flask of vodka under the cushions. Duh.
Unfortunately, that would require planning in advance, which is a no-go for me.
I want cheese.
My Buffistas mental framework has just undergone a paradigm shift.
Unfortunately, that would require planning in advance, which is a no-go for me.
Do what I do, just keep a flask under every cushion.