defect

 Instead of getting my DVM and becoming a vet, I am toying with the idea of getting my MS in forensic biology.  I’ve always had a thing for forensics.  It would take two fewer years to finish, having me in the real world by 2016 instead of 2018.  I would have to move out of this area and into one with actual crime and forensics units, though.  I like living in the forest, but I hate living with my sister’s idiot fiancé.

I’ve been missing Detroit a fair amount.  It still doesn’t seem real, living here again, and I wonder if it ever will.  I think that you can never come “home” again, once you leave.  It will never be the same because I’m not the same.  Mostly, that’s a good thing.

But I am anticipating getting out of here.  My sister seems happy enough with the idea of staying in her current job forever, but I told her I wasn’t down with that.  Likely, she’ll ignore my opinion and do whatever suits her.  Perhaps it’s time I did what suits me.  I was fairly clear about this only being a temporary stop, and if she wants to make it permanent, I guess that’s her prerogative.  Personally, I’ve been thinking of moving south.  Maybe to Pittsburgh, which I liked, or perhaps even further. 

Unfortunately, if I do what I want, I’m being “selfish” for “breaking up the family.”  My sister certainly wasn’t being selfish when she moved 350 miles away and expected me to follow like a good little puppy.  No, that was fine.  But if I move to a different state and DON’T expect her to come with me, that’s selfish. 

Of course, I’ve always been selfish.  It’s a  personality attribute that other people deny vehemently, so I’ve always embraced the fact that I am selfish, you know, been honest about it.  Honesty, you see, is supposedly a good thing, only not too much of it.  I am not especially honest, but that’s okay.  Honesty has an acceptable range, and being either more or less honest than that is frowned upon.  I am most definitely in the acceptable honesty range, though I lie about everything. 

You might call it, “telling people what they want to hear,” and you might be right.  But the violence and ill temper I have seen displayed when you do NOT tell people what they want to hear has convinced me that honesty is not the best policy.  Supposedly, it takes a strong person to tell the truth in the face of adversity.  I am not that person.  I am, after all, selfish.  Weak and selfish, but acceptably honest. 

I am well aware of my personality defects, including the fact that I may lack personality entirely.  Most days I feel like a blank slate.  Or, more aptly, like a mirror that reflects to other people whatever it is they want to see.  I am an empty room, lined with mirrors, and so when someone steps inside they see only themselves, stretching into infinity. 

I think they like that.