And so we come again to the subject of pride. I hate being patronized. I am deeply offended when the people who should know me the best can't give just a little fucking credit once in a while. Do not tell me what I want. Do not tell me what will make me happy. I know what I want. I like Wilmington. No, I didn't come here for the beach; I don't even like the beach. But I like living in Wilmington. I like the school. No, it's not a world-renowned history department, but I like this university. It fits what I need and what I want. I like majoring in history. Just because you don't like history doesn't give you the right to tell me it's not important. Furthermore, I like specializing in religious history. That is what I like studying, that is what interests me, and I don't have to justify that to anyone. And I have my problems with the education department, but I want to be a teacher. That is what I want to do. I like my friends. They are my friends because I like them. Do not insult my friends or my choice to associate with them, nothing gives you that right. Yes, they're major dorks, but guess what - so am I. Do not come into my space and tell me that transfering to another school in another town, changing my major, and making all new different friends will make me happy or be better for me. If I didn't like what I did, I wouldn't do it - give me some fucking credit.
I got to where I am by doing what I want, how I want. If I wanted something different, that's what I would have fucking done. Believe me, I did not get here by accident. So why should I stop now? Maybe I won't get my hair cut just because you said to. In fact, that's a good enough reason for me not to. Maybe I don't want to spend more than a week in this town. Don't tell me where I want to be. Maybe I want to be left alone. And you know, maybe I want to go to fucking Wyoming. Will I? Maybe. Give me a little fucking credit. I know what I want to study, I know what kind of program I'm looking for. I'm going to look through graduate schools and apply to the programs that best suit what I need and want. And if that's Wyoming, maybe I'll just fucking go. And maybe I'll be happy there. But whatever happens, I know I won't be happy until you ease up off my fucking back. So if I can't get back that one thing I need, if that's really gone, there's no reason I should give a shit for anybody else. Nothing but that is worth that sacrifice. I'm doing this on my terms this time. I'm living on my terms. Merry Christmas, you fucking vultures.
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