(no subject)

This morning, I found out that two of the people I knew from my activist days are dead -- a murder-suicide. It was rather grisly, and it disturbed me. These people, while known for their fervor, were not known for their violence. It is a sad thing that they are gone, and I'll miss them.

Meanwhile, back in WV, Mom and Grandma are always finding things to bitch at me about. Mom complains about a speck of dirt on my forearm, and asks me to clean it up. I'm never clean enough, it seems, for her or Grandma, and when I protest (for I am not that fussy over my appearance), they get pissy. This eventually balloons into me getting treated like some addled child, and the complaint that I treat strangers better than family. Never mind that strangers accept me for who I am rather than try to change me into their version of the perfect person. *sigh*