Milk
I think my father might be homophobic. I mean, I don't talk to him all that much and I rarely see him...ever...but, I think that some of the things that he says when I do see him, lend me to believe that he might have a major problem with homosexuals.
I guess it all started when I went to my half-sister, Lexi's, dance recital today in Corona. Now, I haven't spoken with my father for about four months - after we had that huge blow-out on the phone while he was in Las Vegas working, and I had called to check up on him and make sure that he is OK being away from his family and him having yelled and me and told me that "some people needed to live in reality and couldn't stay in school for the rest of their lives," I haven't spoken with him. But, my step-mother texted last weekend letting me know of Lexi's dance recital and wanted me to know how happy she would be if I could make it (and I had drank quite a bit of red wine, so I was feeling pretty generous at the time). So, I agreed. I think that my step-mother actually expected me to pull a no-show or make up some lame excuse, but no. I made it. I drove the hour and a half north of my house (and forgot about attending the Ocean Beach street fair - which is where I originally intended to spend my Saturday off of work) and I sat through her long ass recital. However, one of the dance instructors was a male. He was a great dancer, unlike some of the performers, but one must remember that these are little kids and they should be given some lee-way. However, I digress. Anyway, as the many teachers did their finale dance, the male teacher took the lead and did a slight hip-hop / lyrical number. And my father just made comments about his sexuality the whole time. While in his stupid impersonation of Jack Sparrow Voice thing that he does.
He just boggles my mind. It wasn't only the homophobic comments that made me despise my father more than I do now, but his immature comments and statements when he is talking about me. For instance, my step-mother's sister, Wendy, was there. Now, I haven't seen Wendy in a long time so we got to talking and I told her everything that I was doing in my life and what I wanted to continue to pursue. She turned to my dad and told him that he should be very proud of me. He answered with a "yeah." And then she told him that maybe he should tell me that from time to time. He laughed and said "I don't talk to her very much." She snorted and said, "well, maybe you should give her a call or something." He got all huffy and puffy and said, "I have too much to do in my life to pay attention to others." What a fucking asshole. I don't know why I even bother.
I don't know why I always care or why I continue to be the bigger person and go to these family functions when I am just going to get belittled or made to feel like I am lower than shit. However, I do so. Why? Fucking why do I do this to myself? Do I really like to be miserable? Fuck.
Fuck.