Today I received an email. It seemed like it had been written elsewhere and pasted into the email box. Contrived. Yes, an attempt at veracity and genuine sentiments...but my mother has never been good at acting motherly, and her email was neither comforting nor explanatory. Just the same old shit. Oh yes, just more unsettling. My sister and I do not need to know all the details. Leave some things within the "sanctity" of marriage.

Speaking about it with my uncle, though he's been very supportive, does not help. I end up becoming sarcastic, deprecating (all around) and assume a machine-like rationality to veil those very real, hurtful feelings welling up inside. I laugh, I joke, I mock...I criticize. Then afterwards, I cry.

I'm sorry, I had so many wonderfully humorous happy things to blog about today. I was planning to talk about how my group presentation went today...and you know how those things go, always full of "blog moments," or about my "love life"...

But my heart's just not in it.