Sometimes I hate the part where I live with my parents. I don't mind when I just live with my mom, but then when my dad comes home, there is just this whole other element there that I don't like. I feel like the vibe in the house gets to be different.

Here's the story, morning glories. My dad works in Saginaw, about an hour and a half away from here, so he lives in some apartment up there Monday through Friday and then spends the weekends down here with us. They had a family thing this weekend, so my dad is here tonight too. Anyway, everything is fun and fine and good when just my mom and I are here, but then Pa shows up and golly gee. Times get tough.

I wouldn't say that I hate my dad per se. I wouldn't say that I liked him either. I think I love him because I have to. Is that sad? I guess I respect him as a person, but as a father he really stinks. The other day he was talking about all sorts of baseball facts from 20 years ago and I asked him if he remembered the name of my favorite stuffed animal when I was young (Mr. Bear), or what my middle school was named (White Pine). Then I got scared that he wouldn't know the answer so I left the room.

I guess I don't really know what I want from him now. Should I just be happy he is in my life in any capacity? I kinda feel like that is settling. I wish I could challenge him to just take an interest in me, but I dunno. I don't. I just keep on doing my thing.

Apparently, my mom is going to be paying for my grad school. After all that bullshit about how he would make sure that I could go to any school I wanted if I went to U of M for undergrad and he is not even doing a damn thing about it. Ass.

Sheesh. I just got really mad. I like it when he is not around. I wish I knew him more. I wish I wish I wish.