Disappointment Meets Daughter

I know I'm not usually the type of person to do posts like this because a) as much as I can I'd like to not to complain about my life and b) I'd especially not like to complain about my family because they're very nice people. But there are days when I honestly wonder what my parents were thinking when they had me. I might be saying this too soon in my life but I think that parenthood is something narcissistic that only later on (because it can't be helped) becomes selfless. Most people I know who want to have children are attached to this image of a kid as their mini-self who they can go shopping with or who they can dress like them and when the kid comes out and he/she isn't the way they'd imagined (which is always the case because how can you imagine something you've absolutely never seen) disappointment inevitably ensues, followed by guilt at that disappointment and compensation via love.

This evening, I told my dad about Paperweight coming out and I really, really wish I hadn't. I can only imagine the sort of disappointment they would be in for upon actually reading the book--goodness knows I am not the extremely virtuous Maria Clara type girl they'd imagined they'd brought into the world who writes stories about her longing for joining social youth groups. 

On the brighside of life (you'll see that this is filed under Brightside Entries), I guess it is fulfilling to do something for yourself. And it seems almost impossible not to feel happy about Paperweight coming out. I suppose the great thing about it is that thanks to the less than thrilled response to this news, I won't be obliged to hand over a copy. I do wish that sometimes my family was less cerebral and achievement-oriented (it seriously gets tiring) but then I suppose things would be extremely odd if they were extremely cuddly, so that's fine. I realize this isn't too cheery, but it's all the cheer I can muster for now. :)