This is certainly a post under the "(& other) ramblings" heading.

After spouting all week about telling your family how you feel about them, I found myself unable to tell my last remaining parental member how I felt about him! So I left my own home so I didn't choke the old prick out!!!

Can you imagine how far he had to push me for me to feel that way?? And in my own home? It's impossible for me to understand how I can loose the people who were so kind, loving, suportive and understanding and be left with this stupid, stupid old man!

So I left the house, (read: slammed the door's and fled) with no idea where I was going. Well I ended up heading up to my parents old home (my old home). You can imagine how that felt. Walking the same way I did when I used to come home from college. All these great (and very painful) memories flooding back.

When I finally got to the house it nearly broke my heart, 10 minutes of walking had given me enough time to work myself into a right state. So I walked right past the house with no idea of where I was going or what I was doing. 2 minutes later a car pulls up and it's Dorothie. She knew where I'd be.

How did she know? I don't know, she must know me better than I know myself. Anyway we sat for a while, then she took me home. And here I hide in my cave avoiding the world as always. And the focus of my ire? Well there's nothing wrong as far as he knows. Didn't even ask Dorothie where I'd been or why.

Fuck I hate Christmas!