It was bowling night with the brothers tonight. A night of bad jokes, fake laughter, and homophobia. I had some fun, despite this, but I've had my fill for the week (actually, for a long time to come) and am seriously dreading the prospect of actually going to Thanksgiving dinner at the folks' tomorrow. I may just keep the pie and wine for myself, then call and cancel my appearance: "Hi, I'm not going to be able to make it after all. Call me back when everyone is a little less quick on the gay bashing, and less eager to monitor my every move." The good news is: I have no sense of humor, because I don't laugh at any of the jokes. I'm really uptight, because I take offense when someone does their best gay impersonation, replete with "backdoor" punch line. I have personal space issues, because I don't want to feel my brother's breath on my cheek when he's trying to share some "important"/"funny"/"relevant" comment(s). Oh, and because I don't do every single thing the rest of my brothers do, I'm up to something and they must know exactly what it is, because I've changed and so something is wrong.

This Thanksgiving, I'm not feeling real great about things. I'm bothered by the way my family makes me feel, and angry at myself that I'm not more outspoken about it. It seems like every time I try for normal conversation and interaction, things turn to how I'm not the way they want me to be. I'm fucking tired of it.