hi, I'm Lilah, and I'm a two-nager

Dear Diary,

UGH!!! Living in this house with all these stupid bourgeois rules is bullshit. I am constantly getting in trouble for being who I want to be, and I’m totally sick of it.

I’m not allowed to hit the cats because it’s “not nice”; I can’t throw food at my mom because it makes her “feel sad”: I can't scream at the top of my lungs whenever I feel like it because it "hurts" everyone's "ears."

Since when is life all about not upsetting anyone, not ruffling anyone’s feathers, not questioning the status quo? Do they think Gloria Steinem is “nice”? Do they think Rosa Parks worried about offending people? Do they think Lisa Simpson doesn’t speak her mind? They should know as well as I do (and anyone else who spends any amount of time driving around in a liberal town), well-behaved women rarely make history. (Not to mention the fact that Iraq is Arabic for Vietnam, arms are for hugging, and that Volvo driver’s other car is a yoga mat.)

I can’t color on the walls because they have to be “clean” so the house “looks pretty.” I can’t take Levi’s toy out of his hands because it “belongs to him.” Whatever, if my parents want to subscribe to that materialist, consumerist paradigm, fine; I just wish they wouldn’t lay that trip on me.

I can’t keep blocking Ezra’s view of the television after he’s asked me to move because I have to “listen to his words.” As if his access to that misogynistic, violent, mind-numbing blather that passes for programming is somehow more important than my need to stand in that exact spot at that exact moment in time.

They’re all such selfish hypocrites.

More later….I can hear my dad calling me to “eat dinner”--just another meaningless convention they make me subscribe to. For now.

Fuck you, Mom and Dad, you conformist losers, you complacent sheep. As soon as I am potty-trained and can clothe and feed and bathe myself and talk and drive and pay my own way, I am so out of here.