forgiving reverence.
I've really been out for such a long time. Guess why? I fell down the stairs. It wasn't anything really serious, but I'm supposed to be gentle and not walk on my left foot for three weeks from the 16th. I tore two ligaments, or whatever, in my ankle.
It was so puffy for so long! And then my mama put some herbal medicine on it and the swelling went down. Now it's just purple and yellow with bruising. And at least I can stand on it now! :D I think that's great!
And I really want to go to the aquarium on Tuesday with bio class. It's $12, and Zach said his mom could drive us... Which is good, 'cause too much walking will make my arms sore (I use crutches). I haven't gone to school for a little over a week now, and I'm growing anxious to get back to schoolwork (strangely enough).
I especially want to work on socials and math. Math 'cause I want to pass, and socials because I like history.
The timing was really unfortunate, on account of my missing the "banquet" last Wednesday, and getting hurt the Tuesday after closing night. This injury's made me put off that "to do" list for at least another week from today, and it now includes cleaning my room and going crazy with math homework, in case it didn't already.
Because my room is filth and I'm now two terms behind in math, with stupid pride being in the way of going. It's hard to squash, pride is, but when I sit down and think about what I want, to graduate is pretty fucking high on that list. Along with learning how to commit to anything. I guess TT, some books, and a few finished video games aren't anything to be proud of finishing and committing to. They're like teeny tiny babysteps to a much bigger pyramid that I desperately want to climb, but pathetically fall off of because of sheer fear and stupidity.
Everyone has an ideal something, don't they? I don't know, or haven't taken time to recognize anyone who doesn't, whether it be a lover, friend, world vision, or future/life. I guess you can say my ideal lover was Fred, who has become nothing more than a chunk of my mind that does nothing more than calm me down. And ever since watching NANA, I can say my ideal friend is someone who will chide me when I make mistakes, bear with me when I choose to not listen, and then pat me on the back when I cry, and almost tauntingly say, "I told you so" over and over again to embed the mistake and resulting lesson in my head.
Because it's true we learn from our mistakes, sometimes taking longer for others, though. But doing so makes it all the more meaningful, doesn't it? The idea makes me think of my uncle Janvin, the youngest of my dad's brothers. He used to always yell at me to do better, and push me like hell. He taught me my multiplication table in grade 4, and helped my printing grow (you should have seen the mess it was before he helped). When it came to being a parent, you could say he was the one who actually 'parented' me, while my dad sat there and was the angry, yelling, violent friend. It seemed my dad was always trying to be my best friend.
Now, I know my dad was trying his best. I really do know, and he was, I can tell he was, when I look back on it. But my dad isn't the type of person to really grow up unless it suited him best (now I know where I get it from!), and I guess he was always "the violent father" who would yell and threaten with chopsticks if I ever misbehaved, but uncle Janvin was "the scary-strict uncle" who would yell and order me to do better, and call me stupid if I wasn't up to his expectations.
But whenever I didn't listen to him, he would always call me stupid, shake his head, and say, "You always like doing it the hard way, eh? If you do it this way it'd be so much easier!" Things like taking the dishes from the living room into the kitchen after eating, because I'd always eat in the living room to watch TV when I was little. On that matter, he would say, "Do it now so you don't have to do it later!" But I always ended up doing it later, or not at all, because my Yeye spoiled me, and still does, though not in the same ways, of course.
When I look back, I was pretty pampered, just never in the ways I'd wanted. My younger years were ruled with iron fists with chopsticks and, on one occasion, a golfclub, in which case I am proud of my dad's self control (and aim) to not actually hit me. But he was my father, so I guess he couldn't actually do that.
When it came to the fights I had with my dad... The first few years I spent with him I'd cry out for my mom: "IIIII waaaaaaaant mmmooooommmmmmyyyyy!!!" I'd wail and wail and wail like a crazy person. Then the chopstick threats, and then the chopsticks.
Uncle Janvin would always pass my tears off as fake. Never was there a time when he actually believed I was crying, at least not that I can remember. According to my mom and grama, I was an obedient child... and I laugh when I think about what my dad has to say about me in my younger days. Probably something like "such a cuuute little pumpkiiinnnn, with grape toes!" if he were in a good mood, and then say something like "where did my pumpkin go?" And then I reply, "GONE!" and then we laugh.
The aquarium was a place I went with my parents. It has that kind of atmosphere and memories about it. Always with my parents. I went there once with my mum for my birthday, I think I was... seven? We saw the orca show, and had water splashed all around us. She bought me one of those cool shaped towels that you put in water and it slowly unravels. She got me the shark one, and that night I filled my sink and watched it unravel into a cool facecloth. I still have it, actually. Somewhere.
And I went there with my dad, too. I've gone there many times with my dad, actually, and every time I walked through those doors there was that sense of a familiar building with a curiosity for what they had and what there was to see, even though I'd seen it so many times before. But the aquarium... To me, I can gladly say it is a proud place for me, full of fond memories where I actually wasn't a brat to my parents (dad, especially), for once.
My grama gave me a gold necklace that had cost more than $200 for Christmas. When I opened it, and saw the pricetag (which she had forgot to take off, and even asked if it was off. To which I lied and said it was off), I felt horrible guilt. I sort of wish I could return it somehow, but there was no receipt, and what would I do with it then? I resolved in wearing it, with the fear something might happen and break it. But I took the chance and wore it, because wearing the jewelery she gives me makes her happy.
She tells me so many times that she loves me so much, that I am the light of her life, that she wouldn't know what to do without me... And it makes me feel hollow every time because I don't love her as much as she loves me, even though she showers me in gifts. I mean, I feel it, I most certainly do! But... I can't come to love her so much as I might have when I was younger. I'm old enough to hear the dirty secrets my mom tells me about grama, and the same with grama to mom, which does actually restrict it a little bit, but that isn't the matter. While it is true that they both are very dear to me and would miss them both very much when they depart, it is not the same deep love they express, especially my grama.
So I feel absolutely bad when she gives me things, and even worse when she goes out and buys me EXPENSIVE things. Because she also has health problems, having to go though the ordeal of breast cancer some years ago, and also having asthma, and some other... conditions that restrict her. Sadly, the aches, I guess, are all just signs of an aging body, and I guess the fact of time passing so undoubtedly makes me so fearful.
In times of calmness, sounds like the cars moving outside, a clock ticking, or the music still playing are quite comforting. I guess it's comforting because it's proof time is still moving, and such. But it might as well be just as comforting to know time has stopped, so I won't age; no one would. And no one would die, either. Whatever you were doing, you'd be frozen. A bit of a hell to a lot of people, but also quite relaxing to some, like me.
It was so puffy for so long! And then my mama put some herbal medicine on it and the swelling went down. Now it's just purple and yellow with bruising. And at least I can stand on it now! :D I think that's great!
And I really want to go to the aquarium on Tuesday with bio class. It's $12, and Zach said his mom could drive us... Which is good, 'cause too much walking will make my arms sore (I use crutches). I haven't gone to school for a little over a week now, and I'm growing anxious to get back to schoolwork (strangely enough).
I especially want to work on socials and math. Math 'cause I want to pass, and socials because I like history.
The timing was really unfortunate, on account of my missing the "banquet" last Wednesday, and getting hurt the Tuesday after closing night. This injury's made me put off that "to do" list for at least another week from today, and it now includes cleaning my room and going crazy with math homework, in case it didn't already.
Because my room is filth and I'm now two terms behind in math, with stupid pride being in the way of going. It's hard to squash, pride is, but when I sit down and think about what I want, to graduate is pretty fucking high on that list. Along with learning how to commit to anything. I guess TT, some books, and a few finished video games aren't anything to be proud of finishing and committing to. They're like teeny tiny babysteps to a much bigger pyramid that I desperately want to climb, but pathetically fall off of because of sheer fear and stupidity.
Everyone has an ideal something, don't they? I don't know, or haven't taken time to recognize anyone who doesn't, whether it be a lover, friend, world vision, or future/life. I guess you can say my ideal lover was Fred, who has become nothing more than a chunk of my mind that does nothing more than calm me down. And ever since watching NANA, I can say my ideal friend is someone who will chide me when I make mistakes, bear with me when I choose to not listen, and then pat me on the back when I cry, and almost tauntingly say, "I told you so" over and over again to embed the mistake and resulting lesson in my head.
Because it's true we learn from our mistakes, sometimes taking longer for others, though. But doing so makes it all the more meaningful, doesn't it? The idea makes me think of my uncle Janvin, the youngest of my dad's brothers. He used to always yell at me to do better, and push me like hell. He taught me my multiplication table in grade 4, and helped my printing grow (you should have seen the mess it was before he helped). When it came to being a parent, you could say he was the one who actually 'parented' me, while my dad sat there and was the angry, yelling, violent friend. It seemed my dad was always trying to be my best friend.
Now, I know my dad was trying his best. I really do know, and he was, I can tell he was, when I look back on it. But my dad isn't the type of person to really grow up unless it suited him best (now I know where I get it from!), and I guess he was always "the violent father" who would yell and threaten with chopsticks if I ever misbehaved, but uncle Janvin was "the scary-strict uncle" who would yell and order me to do better, and call me stupid if I wasn't up to his expectations.
But whenever I didn't listen to him, he would always call me stupid, shake his head, and say, "You always like doing it the hard way, eh? If you do it this way it'd be so much easier!" Things like taking the dishes from the living room into the kitchen after eating, because I'd always eat in the living room to watch TV when I was little. On that matter, he would say, "Do it now so you don't have to do it later!" But I always ended up doing it later, or not at all, because my Yeye spoiled me, and still does, though not in the same ways, of course.
When I look back, I was pretty pampered, just never in the ways I'd wanted. My younger years were ruled with iron fists with chopsticks and, on one occasion, a golfclub, in which case I am proud of my dad's self control (and aim) to not actually hit me. But he was my father, so I guess he couldn't actually do that.
When it came to the fights I had with my dad... The first few years I spent with him I'd cry out for my mom: "IIIII waaaaaaaant mmmooooommmmmmyyyyy!!!" I'd wail and wail and wail like a crazy person. Then the chopstick threats, and then the chopsticks.
Uncle Janvin would always pass my tears off as fake. Never was there a time when he actually believed I was crying, at least not that I can remember. According to my mom and grama, I was an obedient child... and I laugh when I think about what my dad has to say about me in my younger days. Probably something like "such a cuuute little pumpkiiinnnn, with grape toes!" if he were in a good mood, and then say something like "where did my pumpkin go?" And then I reply, "GONE!" and then we laugh.
The aquarium was a place I went with my parents. It has that kind of atmosphere and memories about it. Always with my parents. I went there once with my mum for my birthday, I think I was... seven? We saw the orca show, and had water splashed all around us. She bought me one of those cool shaped towels that you put in water and it slowly unravels. She got me the shark one, and that night I filled my sink and watched it unravel into a cool facecloth. I still have it, actually. Somewhere.
And I went there with my dad, too. I've gone there many times with my dad, actually, and every time I walked through those doors there was that sense of a familiar building with a curiosity for what they had and what there was to see, even though I'd seen it so many times before. But the aquarium... To me, I can gladly say it is a proud place for me, full of fond memories where I actually wasn't a brat to my parents (dad, especially), for once.
My grama gave me a gold necklace that had cost more than $200 for Christmas. When I opened it, and saw the pricetag (which she had forgot to take off, and even asked if it was off. To which I lied and said it was off), I felt horrible guilt. I sort of wish I could return it somehow, but there was no receipt, and what would I do with it then? I resolved in wearing it, with the fear something might happen and break it. But I took the chance and wore it, because wearing the jewelery she gives me makes her happy.
She tells me so many times that she loves me so much, that I am the light of her life, that she wouldn't know what to do without me... And it makes me feel hollow every time because I don't love her as much as she loves me, even though she showers me in gifts. I mean, I feel it, I most certainly do! But... I can't come to love her so much as I might have when I was younger. I'm old enough to hear the dirty secrets my mom tells me about grama, and the same with grama to mom, which does actually restrict it a little bit, but that isn't the matter. While it is true that they both are very dear to me and would miss them both very much when they depart, it is not the same deep love they express, especially my grama.
So I feel absolutely bad when she gives me things, and even worse when she goes out and buys me EXPENSIVE things. Because she also has health problems, having to go though the ordeal of breast cancer some years ago, and also having asthma, and some other... conditions that restrict her. Sadly, the aches, I guess, are all just signs of an aging body, and I guess the fact of time passing so undoubtedly makes me so fearful.
In times of calmness, sounds like the cars moving outside, a clock ticking, or the music still playing are quite comforting. I guess it's comforting because it's proof time is still moving, and such. But it might as well be just as comforting to know time has stopped, so I won't age; no one would. And no one would die, either. Whatever you were doing, you'd be frozen. A bit of a hell to a lot of people, but also quite relaxing to some, like me.