"If you twist and turn away, if you tear yourself in two, again..."

Time stands still in this house.On the surface. My life here has followed the same pattern it has since Christmas. But then I think over what's happened and realize that it is moving too fast. I can't believe it's March already.

There are a few things to report. Found out this past week from my step-dad in a nice confrontation (you know how much I just LOVE those...) that it was incredibly naive of me to assume I could stay here for long. Although he and my mom let Nikki stick around for almost two years total, he's expecting me to move out as soon as I've found a job, bought a car, and saved enough to move out, which won't take long. Read out like this, I know it's only logical. It just never had occured to me that they, or rather, he wanted me out as soon as I can manage it. And it all was coming from him. When, two months ago, they were so excited to have me, bought me a freaking bookcase to accomodate all my junk, hung up pictures, etc.

Of course, I overreacted to this sudden announcement, but my response was tied into what he had said before throwing this at me. He first shot down my future plans that he demanded to hear: get a job, volunteer at a library, and try for the Master's Program next year at UW. Without any helpful suggestions, except for the statement that I had screwed up by graduating with a Humanities degree, and an facial expression that declared, "Is that it? You expect to succeed as a human being with that kind of plan?" I was furious with him. And he was being so hostile, and lying through his teeth about just "wanting to get me on my feet" when he said I needed to get out. My presence aggravates him here, I know. We have nothing in common and he doesn't feel needed because we never really talk. He may have been my step-dad for two years when I was a teenager, but we were never close. He was just the man my mom married really quickly after my parents' divorce, who talked a lot and didn't really listen. And we've hardly talked at all since I took off for college, so, honestly, we don't have much of a relationship. I'll admit, I haven't tried. He aggravates me too. The way he constantly goes after my mom about religion, as if he could ever persuade her to go against it, infuriates me. After seven years, can't he just agree to disagree and quit passing judgments?! It's not like my mom EVER makes fun of his beliefs, his obsession with out-of-body experiments, ghosts, sixth senses,  reincarnation, or...ancient aliens. Honestly. She'll listen to his neverending monologues and try to understand, without calling any names. She'll read the books he suggests and give her opinions without shooting him down. He could at least do the same thing for her.

God, I mean, he told me back when I got here in December that he would support me whichever way I chose with Mormonism, but in the same breath implied that I would be a fool to follow it. So freaking transparent, it made me sick. Really, would he really support me if I chose the thing he enjoys to paint black? I hate liars.

I feel like this whole entry so far is a bit confusing, and way too personal. I shouldn't be writing about any of this here. But it's so much easier to type than to write it down in my journal. So, to all my sisters and mom, the only ones who look at this thing, well...I'm sorry. We each have our own opinions, and most of you already know how I feel about this topic, but it goes without saying...DON'T BRING THIS UP ANYWHERE NEAR BILL.
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I needed a minute or two to calm down. Hah. Actually, it was twenty. Managed by Bono's healing/sexy voice and lyrics. Mhmm.

While Ultra Violet blares, I'll continue. Been applying to jobs, slowly, but surely. Now that I feel comfortable behind the wheel and have a desire to get out of bed (yes, it's been an interesting couple of months, but this I will not divulge), in addition to this nice hot poker now pointing at my back, I am actually trying. There is no greater incentive for me to open my arms to change than the knowledge that I'm a nuisance or burden on someone else. And, honestly, I know I have been and still am. Until I find a job. Time just flew in my dark cloud, even as it dragged. God, how it dragged.

Alright, alright, no more of that. Filed my taxes this past week, started applying for jobs, got my Washington Driver's license and man, does it feel good to be driving again. I still can't get over it, that freedom and control. Feels good.

Been reading Dracula and laughing over the drama. In its historical context, I am sure it was terrifying. And I do love that the book is a compilation of letters, telegrams, newspaper clippings, and journal entries. I really enjoy books that give more than one character's perspective. And, Char, I have come around to the movie. Completely. I guess I don't always see the glory of things at first glance; some things have to grow on me a little before I can fully appreciate them, and this movie has. And I'm a bit obsessed with Gary Oldman now.

Keith Gravley made it out of the hospital a while back, after several close calls, but it looks like he will be going back in soon. Honestly, it sounds like his heart is just not going to make it. If he has to go back to the hospital, they are pretty dang sure that they are going to have to do another heart valve replacement, and when that happens, he WILL be put on the heart donor list, because his heart will not last long after that. Right now, at home, he can barely walk across a room without sitting back down. He can't work. And the fluid is building up again in his lungs and around his heart. It doesn't look good. Julie says that he probably won't last out the year. It's so, so awful.

"If I could, through myself, set your spirit free, I'd lead your heart away, see you break, break away, into the light and to the day." Guess what I'm listening to? Only one of my favorite U2 songs. Alright, it's bedtime...or perhaps watch-a-movie-for-no-reason time. Yikes.