The other night I got a phone call from a friend back home. As it usually does when I talk to someone from Seattle, it turns into an interview. Then this information (slightly exaggerated and skewed) is promptly posted in some way or another (word of mouth? news letter?) for general knowledge of my home ward. This is followed by added phone calls and emails asking for clarification or to express their sympathies at my failures. It went something like this...

Friend: How's your family? It's so sad that they hate you.
My Thought: Whatever. I've never told you anything about my family. You know nothing.
My Response: Fine. They don't hate me. I'm just not their favorite.
Friend: How's your mom?
My Thought: What do you know about my mom? Nothing. She's been unusually cruel lately, she's cranky, and she's been whining to me about anything and everything.
My Response: Fine.
Friend: Your brother?
My Thought: He's not eating because my mom and grandma call him fat. I'm worried about him and want him to move down here with me.
My Response: Fine.
Friend: Your dad?
My Thought: Going crazy living with my mom and grandma. He has no hobbies, no aspirations and is thoroughly depressed.
My Response: Fine.
Friend: So, how's school?
My Thought: School? How do you think? I graduate in two months in a degree I can't use, I can't afford to go to grad school or even pay for the GRE to apply to grad school, my parents are playing the "well maybe we just won't come to your graduation" game and my life has no direction.
My Response: Fine. I'm excited to graduate.
Friend: And you decided to stay down there? That's best for you, you know.
My Thought: Best for me? What do you know about what's best for me? Is what's best for me enough? What about my psycho family? Shouldn't I be worried about what's best for them?
My Response: Ya. I'm glad I'm staying.
Friend: You're happy down there.
My Thought: More than you know. I'm the happiest I've ever been which is why I feel so horrible. I'm down here having the time of my life while everything is falling apart at home. I'm a jerk.
My Response: Ya, I am.
Friend: Are you eating? Are you anorexic?
My Thought: What kind of question is this? For the HUNDRETH time, I am NOT anorexic! For the love!
My Response: I eat. I'm fine.
Friend: How's the boy situation? Dating anybody?
My Thought: What? Are you serious? Date? Why? Nobody could ever like me like that and even if they could, I'm a psycho... it could only end in tears.
My Response: I date. Nothing serious.
Friend: You sound bad. Are you sick again? You should see a doctor.
My Thought: YES! I'm sick AGAIN! A doctor? Are you crazy??? They're EVIL!!!!!!
My Response: Nope, I'm fine. My throat's just kinda scratchy.
Friend: So, no plan after graduation, no boys and your family hates you. I'll pass it along.
My Thought: Ya, I know. And within the week I'll have tons of phone calls or emails expressing their sympathies at my huge, embarassing failures.
My Response: I'm happy. No big deal. How about you not tell anybody? That'd be a fun game.

And so the conversation went... so the information was sent... But you heard it here first... maybe...