Home is Where the Sharp Objects Are
Reason eight million why I need to get out of my house: it is perhaps the least welcoming place I know. A while back, over wine, my mom was wondering why nobody ever seemed to want to visit us, and I think in part it's because the atmosphere of my home is somewhat unfriendly and daunting for visitors. My mother is, if it's possible, even more of an introvert than I am, and like me, her natural tendency is to keep people at a distance. This does not make for easy entertaining. That and the fact that you never know when the evening is going to take a sudden turn toward screaming and swearing and psychosis. Since I didn't have a lot of exposure to other people's families as a kid, I'm just beginning to realize now that everyone doesn't necessarily do that. (This may also be why other people's families make me nervous-- "Where's the crazy? Shouldn't there be crazy?" I'm sure there is, somewhere. As Douglas Coupland wrote, all families are psychotic.)