yesterday, my father turned 51. and i realized the truth about my life.

i called to let the folks know i was on the way. this was after i scrambled to get a greeting card and a gift certificate, since even the man himself doesn't know what he wants. this was at 5:30, with me hungry as hell and expecting dinner. so i'm already in the car and on the way, and dinner has been yanked out from underneath me.

"we're just gonna have cake and ice cream."

this is gay, my inner voice said to me. now i'm gonna get home late, hungry, barely with time to eat before playing in the big match of the week ([warp] lost huge, although we're still in good shape for the playoffs in a couple more weeks), and so i'll be up all night the night before the psat, arguably one of the most important things i can do to get into college.

so i arrive at the house, and my dad's car is gone. apparently he was off running errands, on his birthday, at the exact time i was supposed to come visit him. how cute.

i sat in the car for a moment, thinking about what would happen next. i'd walk straight into that house, and strike up a friendly conversation with a house full of total strangers, had it not been for the connection through my father.

my father had created a new life for himself. he didn't need my family. he didn't need my brother. or his family. and then i realized.. he doesn't need me.

and i don't need him. never have. never will.

needless to say, i did get home late, still hungry, ate my second sandwich of the day, watched my team lose miserably (later in the night we won another game, so all is good), and then was stuck up until like midnight.

and then i got a ridiculously high score on the psat. exact numbers we'll know in 6 weeks.

writing sucks when a computer decides not to remember the stuff you've written, even if it's really good.

story of the day: consider abdullah mohammed bin laden, brother of the one and only osama 'yo mama' bin laden. not just that, but one of some 50 sibs of the guy. yeah, the one whose silly grin we'll never understand. exiled from his own country, disowned by his family, and now hated by the entire world, and yet he's got quite possibly the world's most satisfied grin on his face.

back to abdullah. he lives in boston with a doctorate degree from harvard law. about 20 more of the bin laden clan all live in boston, quite wealthy due to their father's ridiculously large construction company in saudi arabia. but this guy, his brother just screwed him over. abdullah is now afraid to leave his apartment. he no longer jogs along his favorite route. he abstains from using his credit cards. he lives in a constant state of paranoia, and not the kind that says the aliens are coming.

he's afraid that a dumb american is going to kill him. and who can he thank for that honor? the family black sheep.

i'm thankful i'm white and have a british last name.

my mom loves putting pressure on me. psat is in two weeks. 'you shouldnt be going to incubus right before the test.' screw you, i'm doing both and i refuse to live a miserable life so bug off. if i get somewhere around 215 ill be close to national merit scholar. last year i had a 198. gotta pick up 15 points somewhere. that's the same as getting an extra 100 points on the real deal. that would put me over 1400, which would be good, since i was supposed to get somewhere around 1550 by the time i graduate. that's the kind of leverage i have to have, they tell me, to go where i want to go.

of course, if i wasn't white and didn't have a british last name, i'd already be made thanks to the wonder of minority scholarships, since all white students are obviously so much more privileged than all minority students.

i hate that i'm white and have a british last name.