Where to stick it

I went to the SAHLs reunion today, which was small but pleasant. And I would write about that, if only I didn't have lovely little topic to bitch about.I don't know if it's because they're old, or bitter, or stupid....whatever it is, I could give less of a rat's ass. But the simple fact is that my parents are best at being nasty humans when I've had a good day. Perhaps it's because when I return from not having seen them all day, the juxtaposition is all the worse. But the more appropriate, and highly dramatic conclusion, is that they just do not like seeing me happy. Another layer of interpretation to be placed on this cake; I cite a good day as including their absensce. Whatever the reason (because in LJ rants, reason is not the point....moaning and bitching is), flaming asshole seems to be the order of the evening. I came in the door, and nary 5 minutes later was being told that I had ruined dinner. Either my subconscious is a talented bitch, or something is rotten in a meat-packing district in Denmark.My mother, my father, my sister's Anglo-Saxonified ass, and Guliani's "Quality of Life" program all know where to stick it. And if they don't, someone ought to let them in on it.I'm exhausted, I'm angry, and I have work to do for Easton.If anyone wants to argue with me about anything, and I mean this for collective good; PISS OFF.