Divebomb

(As taken from my journal:)

(Sunday, August 14)

Last night, after dinner, my dad asked me to stay at the table for a while. Curious. I put my dishes away, and did so, albeit a little warily. Had they seen my angry blog entry about the party? Were they going to suggest we talk about it, right now, right here, in front of Dan?

The answer was no. It started off as a kind of general conversation about my future, with tastes of peak oil in there somewhere. Alright, I could handle it. Fifteen minutes later, I'd be back upstairs, talking to friends as though nothing had happened.

But then it took a sharp turn: the concept of moving out of the city and starting a farm was one they were entirely serious about.

My mood took a nosedive.

I have never liked my parents' idea of starting a new farm life. I am certainly a city kid-- or at least a suburbs kid. I like modern amenities like computers and internet. Sure, I enjoy the occasionalmenial labor, the physical work. But I wouldn't want to make it part of my everyday life.

I haven't really kept this a secret, either. Whenever my parents brought it up, even as a "what if", I opposed. I made it very clear that I had no interest whatsoever in moving.

And then they tell me they're serious.

NO. NO NO NO NO NO.

I have a life here. I've got the greatest friends ever. Some of them have grown up with me. One can't simply drop something like that. Putnam is, by many accounts, a very respectable school-- it's got an awesome orchestra program, and its theatric arts department is said to be one of the best in the state. I want to follow a theatric career. I'm a brown belt in Aikido and enjoy training very much. I have a life here.

They expect me to happily, without resistance, drop it and move out, away from everything I've known, smiling all the way.

No way. No bloody effing way.

Of course my friends are helping, Ned bless them. Somebody-- I think it was Olivia-- came up with the idea of spending the school year at a friend's house, and going out to the country home-thing for vacations and breaks. That's the idea I like most-- after, of course, simply not moving. Ms. Stone has also offered to do all she can to help me.

I don't want to move.