Slightly broken

I sent an email to my father a few days before we moved, just to let him know that we were moving and our new address.

He responded, and we've been talking a little bit. I told him about Andrew graduating salutatorian for his class and that I was planning on going back to school. Also, I told him that I've been at the Depot for a year now, and that I was kind of proud of that. In his response, was there any praise for me? No... but there was for Andrew. Apparently I "did well for myself" with him. Yeah... I knew that, thanks, Dad! That's part of the reason that I married him.

Also, he and the evil stepmother got the first level of their house compleatly rehabed. Bully for them, it's not like I'll ever get to see it, 'specially if the E.S. gets her way... fucking bitch...

He's in Africa right now attending some botany confrence. He's due to come back shortly before Easter. I'm not holding my breath for a reunion.

I'm really starting to believe that I'm just better off not talking to him. Everytime we start talking again I want to be involved in his life and I want him in mine. But, I guess it's just not that important to him. I miss him, but I guess it's better off this way.