(no subject)
I need to get out of the habit of starting my quantum homework the morning of the day on which it's due. That is a bad idea even though apparently I'm smart enough to have been getting away with it for the past 2 weeks. Sometimes, I hate being that smart. It makes me so fucking lazy.
The eucalyptus massage oil that I bought for Austin smells a lot like aftershave, but it's decent aftershave, so that's cool. I gave him a massage with it tonight, and he fell asleep at like 9:30 pm. It was super cute. =) [Granted, he went to bed at 2 am last night, and slept horribly, so he -was- tired, and the stuff is not really -that- magical].
Today, I got a letter from my grandmother. I mean like a real letter, in the mail, written on paper with a pen. It's 14 pages long... Last time she wrote me a letter, it was 12 pages long. This was my first semester in college, and it was essentially telling me that I suck at life and am a huge disappointment to everyone. It damn near made me cry at the time, and I think I actually never finished reading it and threw it away, which is quite drastic, because I've never thrown a letter away before in my life. Well, this one seems a bit more friendly. It seems like she's actually really sad that I've stopped calling and is somehow trying to reach out to me. [Yeah, I haven't called my family since that horrible weekend incident when I drove to NoVa just to turn around and almost immediately drive back to Blacksburg]. It's difficult to read because it's in Russian handwriting (and not very pretty handwriting either), so it's taking me a while, and I still really, really am not sure how to feel about all of this...
It did inspire a thought in me, however. It made me remember how warm it feels to be a part of my life, that life that I lived as a child. There's something about my family that I don't think I've ever seen in any other (not to claim that it doesn't exist elsewhere). There's this particular type of bond that I think comes from being completely alone in the universe and having only each other. If you have a sufficiently tough life, you very quickly realize that no one is going to help you because when things get sufficiently difficult, other people will stop wanting to participate in making them better simply because it requires too much effort/energy/etc. Well, that's been our life, and my share is the second easiest, if not the easiest of the four. I can't describe the feeling very well. It's just... it's like having a place to belong, but a place that is becoming more and more lost in time as you get older. I feel like since we've moved to the US, we've lost some of that bond. No one needs anyone anymore. Mark and I are obnoxious and independent, and my grandma still wants to tell us and my mom what to do. My mom probably works more these days than she did when we were little, so I don't even remember the last time I felt like I had the time to talk to her, to really connect with her in some non-trivial fashion. More so, I've been feeling quite betrayed, mostly because I was (and still am) having such a terribly difficult time, and all I got from the family was a slap in the face. So the point is, although I miss my place in -that- life, my warm fuzzies from -that- family, whether or not I can ever have it back, what I really want is my -own- family with my -own- warm fuzzies for the future. I want to have someone who will create that with me...
I just want to be happy. Doesn't everyone? And I've been trying so goddamn hard; maybe that's not how it works...
The eucalyptus massage oil that I bought for Austin smells a lot like aftershave, but it's decent aftershave, so that's cool. I gave him a massage with it tonight, and he fell asleep at like 9:30 pm. It was super cute. =) [Granted, he went to bed at 2 am last night, and slept horribly, so he -was- tired, and the stuff is not really -that- magical].
Today, I got a letter from my grandmother. I mean like a real letter, in the mail, written on paper with a pen. It's 14 pages long... Last time she wrote me a letter, it was 12 pages long. This was my first semester in college, and it was essentially telling me that I suck at life and am a huge disappointment to everyone. It damn near made me cry at the time, and I think I actually never finished reading it and threw it away, which is quite drastic, because I've never thrown a letter away before in my life. Well, this one seems a bit more friendly. It seems like she's actually really sad that I've stopped calling and is somehow trying to reach out to me. [Yeah, I haven't called my family since that horrible weekend incident when I drove to NoVa just to turn around and almost immediately drive back to Blacksburg]. It's difficult to read because it's in Russian handwriting (and not very pretty handwriting either), so it's taking me a while, and I still really, really am not sure how to feel about all of this...
It did inspire a thought in me, however. It made me remember how warm it feels to be a part of my life, that life that I lived as a child. There's something about my family that I don't think I've ever seen in any other (not to claim that it doesn't exist elsewhere). There's this particular type of bond that I think comes from being completely alone in the universe and having only each other. If you have a sufficiently tough life, you very quickly realize that no one is going to help you because when things get sufficiently difficult, other people will stop wanting to participate in making them better simply because it requires too much effort/energy/etc. Well, that's been our life, and my share is the second easiest, if not the easiest of the four. I can't describe the feeling very well. It's just... it's like having a place to belong, but a place that is becoming more and more lost in time as you get older. I feel like since we've moved to the US, we've lost some of that bond. No one needs anyone anymore. Mark and I are obnoxious and independent, and my grandma still wants to tell us and my mom what to do. My mom probably works more these days than she did when we were little, so I don't even remember the last time I felt like I had the time to talk to her, to really connect with her in some non-trivial fashion. More so, I've been feeling quite betrayed, mostly because I was (and still am) having such a terribly difficult time, and all I got from the family was a slap in the face. So the point is, although I miss my place in -that- life, my warm fuzzies from -that- family, whether or not I can ever have it back, what I really want is my -own- family with my -own- warm fuzzies for the future. I want to have someone who will create that with me...
I just want to be happy. Doesn't everyone? And I've been trying so goddamn hard; maybe that's not how it works...