Word of the Day: xenophobia I've seen my mother a couple of times. She came here to visit me and bring me my mail the first time, and then the second time she had to bring the Jetta to the shop and we spend a couple of hours driving around, doing errands, and walking around stores. But she called me yesterday at work and told me my grandparents are going to Edna for the weekend and I should go home and see them. So I'm going, later this morning. I don't mind going home so much as I mind seeing my father so soon after all this happened. He's either going to [a] be really nice and ask me how I'm doing and things because my grandparents will be there, [b] be really mean to me and lecture and yell at me despite my grandparents being there, or [c] ignore my presence altogether. We shall see. I'm just glad I get to see my grandparents. _______________________________________ Later that day... And so I just got home. My father did [c] excepting when he made me sign the stuff to sell me my car. So at least that's mine now. I got to see my grandparents, which made me mighty happy, and I got to eat some bean soup, homemade to the maxx, which also made me mighty happy. I hated being there. I hate to say that, but it's true. It's like there was this wall that I had always felt but was more present then than ever before. And by always I mean always, since we moved to Texas with my father. At least now I don't miss home so much anymore.