I detest irresponsibility, and yet how I crave to be irresponsible. I want a better life, a more peaceful one. The pursuit of that though screws a lot of people over. I've always said, "You need to be a little bit selfish," but how much selfishness is too much? The environment is so toxic. I'm filled with anxiety. I feel it balled up in my throat, a mass of rotten emotions. I can't sleep.
i stumbled on a list like this today and i thought that i should make my own.
1. hot spice tea with milk & honey
2. hanging around in my p.j.s
3. messy hair
4. painted fingernails
5. car rides on winding roads with the windows down
6. warm sunny days
7. finding great new music
8. sleeping in
9. arrested development
10. going to bed early
11. waking up with a couple hours to spare
12. curling up on the couch on a Saturday afternoon
13. Wednesdays & Thursdays
14. never having homework
15. Anonanimal & other heart-wrenching good songs
16. meeting new people & making good friends
17. communicating with real live human beings every day!
18. laughing really hard
19. hanging out with my bestfriend every single weekend
20. unnecessary snow days
21. making plans
22. church on Sunday
23. sweet words
24. knowing that someone's thinking of you
25. staying up late on the phone
26. beautiful things
27. my dog
28. compliments from strangers
29. books waiting to be read
30. having time to myself
31. having a reason to wake up and get dressed every morning!
I wish there was a way I could write all the shit going on now, but it's difficult to keep it straight and understandable. The one thing I know is that I want to not be here so damn bad. It feels like being a kid all over again, stuck in between two manipulating parents who have no concept of empathy. I know my dad did wrong, but I can also understand that he hasn't really been with my mom for over five years and before that there was always just bitterness and disgust between them. He was seriously ill and when I talk to him I get the feeling that he thinks the end is close for him and watching him I can see it too. He doesn't look healthy or himself. In the end, to him there was no relationship there and nothing to be faithful for. His kids are grown and he wants peace and as he says over and over again, he can't have that with my mom. There's too much bitterness and anger for them to ever be even remotely friends, I've witnessed that with my own eyes. I know that he's also playing up the victim card as hard as he can, I'm not dumb. Nothing he's done is right, but there's also some truth in what he says.
My mom wants desperately for us to pick a side, but I can't be a bitch to the old man. In the end he's my father and I see him so rarely. I'd hate to say the last time I saw him I didn't speak to him. It's also not my bone to pick, if my mom feels she's owed an explanation then she should be the one to ask for one. Instead she fled, though. She used some money of his without his knowledge and fled to NY, leaving me and my sister to deal with the rage once he finds out. I feel betrayed by her. When this all started I tried to support her, to be there for her and offer whatever she needed. I even started hunting for a lawyer and she just didn't listen. She followed my oldest sister's advice, my oldest sister who can't even get her child support payments from her father's kid, but has some strange and greedy interest in my dad's money.
That's what it's all about really. All the anger stems from the money he took from this house and invested in so many failed projects. There's this idea that he's over there in Nicaragua giving all his money away to his 22 year old lover (who he says isn't 22, but I really don't care). What people fail to ask themselves is what money? Everything my dad has tried to make over there has failed, if the economy is shit here how could it be in one of the poorest nations in the entire world? Yea, I do ask myself why anyone would invest money in a third world country with an "ex-communist" president, but he can do whatever he wants. He's old and that's what he wants. Who am I to stand in his way? In the end I don't count with my dad for anything and I never consider anything of his mine. That's what I work for. I really don't want anything from either of them, but to be left alone and out of all this mess.
I'm sick of my mom's games and I'm sick of the way she uses my paycheck as her own personal piggy bank. The money I give her for the mortgage just went to a last minute airplane ticket to New York. I feel bad for my sister, not the oldest, but older one. In the end everything falls on her shoulders and I'm overcome with this fierce feeling to protect her because it's enough. She's had to be the responsible one for fucking long enough and she should get to live her life and not clean up after my mom and her bad spending habits. I feel so helpless and pissed off. I feel like a fucking kid. It's not the separation, my parents should have never been together. I could see that as a small child. It's strange because I feel so helpless, but at the same time as if I'm forced to be responsible for their bullshit. It's all just so much bullshit I feel like throwing up.
I've never felt so incredibly fucking busy in my life. I have tons of papers to write, books to read and presentations to prepare, service learning hours to complete and work, of course. Horrible horrible work. Not to mention that I've yet to complete any of immunization paper work necessary to register for next semester in a new school and I'm fucking panicking because I may not be able to actually go to school next semester if I take any longer. Crazy thing is that no matter how hard I try to buckle down and take things seriously and fucking FOCUS I can't stop myself from procrastinating. I have the attention span of an excitable two year old at the moment. Like for example, right now, I have two papers to write and a book to read for a presentations and I'm typing this instead. I somehow felt writing this and checking my facebook were imperative to this very moment. Shit.
So this year I've volunteered to make the entire Thanksgiving meal. My only request was that the oven be clean. I usually take care of the deserts, so I'm no stranger to the madness that is the Thanksgiving kitchen, but having to plan the entire feast is a bit intimidating. Still the little gourmet inside me is all excited. I'm thinking salted turkey, two kinds of potatoes and well... then the rest is pretty vague to be honest.
I'm lucky enough to have Thanksgiving and the Friday after that off too though, so all sorts of Christmas decorating and tree installing will be going down. As well as the official trading of the dog's Halloween collars for Christmas collars. I know I'm a little dorky, but that's as close as I come to dressing them up so it's okay.
In other news, it's very worrisome to me that JJ and I still haven't planned any wedding stuff. This is supposed to be happening April 4rth...
As far as Saturdays go this one is turning out to be a pretty shitty one. I hate that I don't have a car. I feel so trapped and lonely. All I really want to do right now is get the fuck out of here. I'm so independent in every aspect of my life. I pay my own bills, I do my own chores and I make my own plans, but it's so devastatingly crippling to have to depend on people to get me where I want/need to be. I'm just so tired of being surrounded by little kids who think they're smarter and better than me, by my mother who thinks I owe her something and my sister who just can't seem to get over her depression and get on with life. I love them all, but I feel so suffocated and I really wish I could have some alone time outside this house. I don't want to retreat within myself, you know. I just want to get the fuck out and not feel so incredibly tired and stressed and unfulfilled. When I was in high school I never saw myself here, taking the same shit from the same people. Buried under responsibilities that aren't even mine. I don't even know what to do anymore and all I'm doing right now is only helping to depress me even further.
But I'm going to bed now instead because my body is dead, I've had unexplained and incredibly severe rib pain for the last week, I end every night with two Excedrin Extra Strength for the raging migraine that blurs my vision and for fucking once I get to actually sleep in on a Saturday. Sigh.
Anywho, so I approached The Happening with pretty high hopes as I like morals and twists and what not, but overall I really don't think this movie delivered in the way his others have. The idea that trees would feel threatened by us and try and kill humanity was intriguing, but the execution was pretty eh. Zoey Deschanel just can't act. She's incredibly dry and expressionless. The sad part is that I feel I should like her. I mean her name is Zoey and she's all pale and shit. She's got that weird vibe good actresses sometimes have, but unfortunately for her she's just a really bad one. She can do the sarcastic thing, but when she tries to express some emotion it seems so fake, she'll at the most seem like an airhead. Mark Wahlberg was an airhead in this movie too. He kept talking with this weird lilt, like he was constantly asking you a question he just could not understand. I expected a little more ferocity from him, as he is, you know, trying desperately to survive, but all I got was dimwittedness.
There were also some things that just seemed too gratuitous for the sake of gratuity. I don't understand what the point of the coo-coo old lady was. They're already trying to escape from killer trees and meeting murderous assholes, but that's not enough. A whacked out grandma was not what this movie needed. That entire scene where the camera zooms into the doll on the bed is such an overplayed bit. Dolls are scary, we get it. In the end, I really just wish the acting had been better though. I don't think Zoey Deschanel and Mark Wahlberg were strong enough actors to carry this plot on their shoulders. I would have much rather watched a movie about John Leguizamo's character, but oh well.
I guess they can't all be good.
I’ve been wanting to write something for the last couple of days, but haven’t really had the right words in mind to get it all out. I’m really sad lately. JJ and I are doing really well, my classes are all interesting, and I’ve had down time with friends that I haven’t had in a long time. So many aspects of my life are moving in the right direction and still, I feel incredibly… I’m not sure if sad is the right word. Despondent? Maybe… I hate my job. I really hate to touch on this once again, but I hate that place so much that it stains all the good things in my life. I don’t know what to do.
I have tried finding a new job, but I guess the job situation here or anywhere is not that great. I hate this idea that I should be grateful. I know that I’m not panhandling or unable to pay my bills or feed myself. That in the very broad spectrum of crappy situations mine is not the crappiest. But does that really make my situation any less unbearable? Am I selfish because I wish for something better? My mom likes to think so, telling me to thank God I have a job. Thank God I can help pay her mortgage.
My former boss, who is a friend now, has on several occasions asked me, “What is it that you hate about your job so much?” As if to say, “You’ve got it easy.” I know that she probably has ten times more stuff on her plate as me. It reminds me of a debate we had in an English class once about whether women should be drafted. So many of us girls were saying the draft shouldn’t exist at all, but because it does we, women, should have to go. Equal rights means equal responsibility, right? In the end our professor simply said if the draft is so horrible why would you force it on another part of the population? If some people are being killed, should we all be killed to be fair?
Death and working here may be a bit of a stretch, but my point is clear. Should I have to take the soul crushing I do for my paycheck just because others don’t get one? In the end it isn’t even the work. Yes, I hate working with numbers and doing spread sheet reports, but I could do this until I was done with school when hopefully a better job in a field I care about comes along. What really makes me feel this dread is the people I have to co-habituate with. I work in an environment where everyone is trying to bring everyone down. Essentially, there is no one to trust or commiserate with. Everyone is so bitter here, so pissed and in a staff numbering in the hundreds there is one person I can talk to without measuring every word and I only can because I met her before I worked here.
So yes, I’m sad, depressed even, but I’m trying really hard not to be. I’ve realized how much of what I used to love doing I’ve thrown by the wayside, blogging included. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve lost so much passion. I’m trying to delve back into the other things. The writing, the books, movies, music and everything that once gave me joy to counter attack what brings me so much not joy. I guess I’m trying to restate my claim on my old self again. I miss that girl.
