I love my dad, I really do... arg

[on fertility]
Dad: How old are you now?
Me: 22.
Dad: You have eight more years.
Me: What?
Dad: Until your fertility and egg quality declines, and you have a higher risk of having a child with a disability. Like your brother.
Me: ... Thanks, dad.

[on men]
Me: Good news dad, I have a boyfriend.
Dad: Does he have a PhD?
Me: No.
Dad: Dump him.

[on my desired career path]
Dad: What? Why do you want to study queers? Are you a queer? Do you like bondage?
Me: What? No! No I only like vanilla sex with men!

[more on my career path]
Dad: You should learn how to fix queers, if you want to study sex.
Me: Dad, I'll forgive you for that insensitive comment, because you are a product of your environment and the prevailing cultural attitudes.

[on weight gain]
Me: I think I'm getting fat. Dad, am I fat?
Dad: Yes.




.... I do love my father, I really do, but sometimes I want to strangle him.

Holy crap, batman.

I graduate in May 2009.

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING WITH MY LIFE.

I'm going to have to start sorting that bit out sooner rather than later... The options:
1. Wait a year, go to grad school (work somewhere in the meantime)
2. Go immediately to grad school
3. Do peace corps or teach for america or something
4. Become a park ranger in Big Bend and write a novel

... okay, so 4 probably isn't viable. But the number and variety of options open to me is liberating and terrifying.