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Right, so today sucks. Dragged out of bed at 6:00 in the morning, and somehow, we're still expected to be cheerful? Yeah, friggin' right. No need to mention that last night my sisters started on a huge bitch fest, starting with Pa and somehow ending with me, so that all relations are tense, and my two other little sisters, with no idea what's wrong, but some vague idea that something just is, are bumbling around without any notion of what to say or do. Everyone sleeping in my room last night is in a black mood. Like I said, it's tense.

And it might not be if it weren't for my dad. He won't stop nagging, for God's sakes. Yesterday he came into our room and started on us in a low whisper, on and on and on about how unorganized we were, and insinuating how absolutely fucking lucky we were to even be graced by his presence on this trip. Not that he came out and said it; he already thinks that we should be thinking it every time we see him. He won't shut up about how neat this house is, the house we're staying in, and our house at home isn't so neat, is it? And why would that be- perhaps it's because all of you don't care to keep it clean. And how hard we must make our mom work, shouldn't we feel sorry for her? And aren't we failures, not being able to drive, so that she has to drive bloody all the time. 

In the first place, I didn't want to come on this stupid trip. I wanted to stay at home, go to work, and wake up whenever I bloody please and do my own things without someone telling me of another way to do it better. And then everyone started working on me, saying that I was being ungrateful and I should at least try to enjoy it. Well, pouncing a trip to Vancouver on me and telling me to enjoy and desperately insisting without much conviction that this trip is going to be fun, and that it'll be a change from whatever I do might be something that I would like to decide for myself. I know that this might sound ungrateful, but I didn't ask for any of this. Somewhere in the world, there's a little child craving horribly to go to Vancouver and stay in cheap-assed hotels (motels, actually) and be yelled at by their father and put down everytime they actually have fun, but that child is not, and will not be me.

Even the fact that we went to the Vancouver Pride Parade isn't helping now. The rainbow flags are striking an odd note in this room. No one's saying anything that needs to be said. This sucks. I hate family vacations.



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