Kind of fuckers?

I had a very odd job "offer" while in “the place that shall not be named.” I have never been a party to nepotism; I think that I might like it. Here is the deal, my name was offered to the president of a large institution of which I am quite fond. It was suggested by a benefactor to said institution and the wife of institution's board president and the wife of the president of that institution that I should be hired as the director of a large part of that institution. The job is something that I am capable of and have done before, so it is not like I wouldn't be able to do it etc. Any of you that know my struggles low this past year to find gainful employment will understand my reaction to this odd turn of events. There were several self esteem boosts of note to counter-balance the family crap. It is nice to be noticed.

The last several years I have struggled so much to be successful as a singer that some of my previously noted abilities have fallen to the wayside. Here is the question folks, should we beat our heads against the wall trying to determine our calling is while ignoring things that we are obviously good at? I know sounds easy right? But we see this everyday, people trying to do what they love and not focusing on what they are good at. WTF?

I don't know, no answers here, just pointing out the tendency.

In other dysfunctional news: I think that I figured out what I am looking for with my family. You see, I figured out that the reason that I leave these family visits so disillusioned really stems from my desire for resolution. I am always trying for the happy ending, that "movie like" connection where grandparent embraces and tells all that you ever wanted to know. Where aunt and uncle rush to you to apologize for their wanton disregard (I love the word wanton) for your need to be connected to them. A time when your family sits down at the table and talks about widowhood, cancer, divorce, abuse, drugs, and missing sisters. That is the thing that I want. The dead should rise and tell you that they have been here all along in hiding watching you from afar, unable to get close for fear of the mafia, etc. I will probably be accused by some of being on the pity pot but, well fuck you, it’s my blog.

I know it is childish. These are the wants of a kid, I am not talking with the adult side of my brain that part is for real life, not for blog land. All of this is pretty one sided of course, we all have our reasons to be locked away. I know dad's death hurt his whole family and we are just reminders that he is not here. I know that it all is just a reaction to hurt blah, blah, blah. I don't really want to hear it. Why is it that people who I am not even related to care more for me than some of my own family? Honestly, you people are kind of fuckers. (Can you be kind of a fucker?)

Ok, so after all of that here is what I really fear: what if all of my work: opera, design, theater, education, etc. has really been to get these people to notice me? It has been pointed out (and noted) that I am dramatic, what if I am doing all of this to get a response from people who essentially do not give a shit? That would be pretty fucked up wouldn’t it? Maybe I should have just spent all of that money on a drug habit, probably would have been way more fun. Hmmmm?