importance of becoming "human"

Having read Augusten Borrough's memoirs I can't stop thinking about my own family. There have been occasions where I just couldn't stand none of the members of this unit..well..I guess that can be called puberty..and can be excused..but..a bit by bit I'm secretly starting to like them, starting to accept them (whether they will accept me is another matter), even starting to be (in a way) proud of my "not-so-very-nuclear" family. Or how else could you call a corporation consisting of an evergreen depressive/suicidal mom; mousy alcoholic dad; teenage pregnancy sister; gay brother; constantly homeless under aged sister who, at the moment, happens to live with my ex; little ones (I think three and four years old.. a boy and a girl) who seem to be growing up in my grandparent's place and there are some memories about another sister who died when she was only two years old..And then there's my granny and it's my strong belief that she's the one who's holding all of that kettle of fish together; my granddad (also an alcoholic plus a heavy, heavy, heavy smoker..oh yeah-just remembered-I'm still not smoking!) and my aunt with her two sons..occasionally her husband as well.

Yeah...

My family..really miss them right now.

BTW, I picked up a new hobby - I started to stare. Stare at people. To be accurate - into their eyes while I'm talking to them. Especially effective with strangers. It's quite satisfactory to see how discomfort and nervous people get..when I don't take my eyes away from their eyes..not even for a second. It all started with a healthy curiosity - who turns away first..they do. Had a pretty good opponent in Ikon gallery, after watching João Maria Gusmão and Pedro Paiva's exhibition "On the Movement of the Fried Egg and Other Astronomical Bodies" we had some questions we needed answers to and the guy who we talked to, turned out to be a opponent. He was itching a bit and turned away a lot but still..nine points..

But all this (everything above this line) is nothing I planned to write.

I was looking for a job. What ever..as long as I'll find something. And I had a phone call on Friday..from Northern Ireland, offering me a place. Time for relocation - ten days. OK. I can do that. And I thought that this would really please my sister as well, she's always wanted me to have a decent job or something like that. Once in a while she says to me :"See, you're almost becoming human!"

But I don't want to become "human"!!!! I want to be me. I will never be a decent office bird (no offence to anyone!) or a ..or a..I don't even know what normal people do.. I want to work in a lunatic asylum, I want to be a personal assistant to a crazy professor who's just about to change the world but can't find his own socks, I want to work at nights because sleeping at night seems a bit of a waste..I want to..to do something unpredictable!

So I'm going to turn down this offer and spend another month or so looking for something I WANT to do. I need a job, I want a job but it has to be something I would enjoy.

And anyway..why do we have to be so "human", so "in borders", why do we have to eat toast in the morning not in the evening?!