I'm sorry the relations with your parents continue to be fraught, P-C. I think Fred Pete said it best, though. Hard to not be affected by what one's parents think, but concentrating on the fact that you're a self-supporting independent adult ought to help a bit.

We don't even live with our cats anymore*, and we still consider ourselves cat people. There are days I miss them--fingers in fur, the vibration of one purr or the other, the spark and response of each personality--more than I miss the people I left behind. TC recognizes our voices over the phone while someone's talking--he'll strop the phone-holding hand and purr like a motorboat. If there's no reaction, he'll yell. Indignantly. He's yet to figure out the webcam, but I figure it's only a matter of time.

*Their vet said better not--the elder, a neurotic former feral, probably wouldn't survive being tranqued for flight, and might die from the stress of flying untranqued. Eight days in a car and each night in strange hotel rooms ruled out the cross-country drive. The younger is indoor-outdoor, stays safe in his own yard and is supremely happy after an earlier life of neglect and deprivation. Our present community prohibits outdoor cats, and he would have been very unhappy confined with no outdoor access. They are both in their familiar home, with our son whom they've known as long as they've known us, and who loves them dearly and might not have let us take them if it had been okay with their vet.

Am waiting for official offer on dream job with dream org in dream city.

Yay! I'll be ~~~~~~ing for you.

And, yes, CAT makes me happy, too.

Much ~ma for the exciting development, smonster!

I want a cat that would make me happy. Possibly a dog, in the event that we can't find a cat The Girl isn't allergic to. But ideally a cat.

Cycled to the PO, where there's already a holiday-sized line. Then to TJ's. Saw a location scouting crew from Universal on the way.

mini-rant: Given that they're devout Catholics, I should know they've already got cognitive dissonance down cold so I shouldn't really be surprised by my parents. But I still can be surprised, somehow.

Mom: "We don't call it 'rent', we call it your 'share'."

Me: "If it were my 'share', then my adult brother & sister who also live here would also be paying their 'share'."

Luckily, she didn't go off on me at that point. Which my dad probably would have. Blind spots so big you could fit the Spruce Goose in them.

Me: Mom, can you look online at the weather and see how long we have before I have to be worried about snow?

Mom of Cass: Yes, but first I want to watch you put on your socks.

Fair enough.

Damn, those things are sock porn.

I have a pair of those on RIGHT NOW AIFG! I'm actually going to derby, though.

Spidra, I am shaking my head and thinking some very, very bad words at your parents right now. Charge rent or don't, fine, but be consistent and fair. Or, a maxim that came up again and again this weekend - do whatever you want, just don't be an asshole about it.

I am trying to figure out how to deal with rage and anxiety without letting Tom know I have rage and anxiety.

Maybe go to bed?