(no subject)
Officially didn't participate in Valentine's Day this year; slept through most of it. The only thing that happened was last night at midnight my friend gave each one of us a piece of candy (we were all in a blanket fort watching Back to the Future II--it was kinda awesome). And today I was witness to some major drama between my roommate, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's crazyass mom who came up this weekend. More on that later.
I'm never very bitter on this day. I call it "singles awareness day", because, yeah, way to rub it in, world, but it's never been a big issue for me. In fact, I would usually be very excited because I would come home from school and my dad would be home early from work with a box of chocolates and flowers for me (and obviously stuff for my mom too). I fucking love those chocolates like you wouldn't believe--the ones everyone says have that nasty toothpaste filling in em? Yeah, fuckin love. And last year I dressed up all pretty for work and made a shit ton of money in tips (and had some great, hilarious stress moments from my boss to look back on). I know I obviously wasn't going to get that this year, and I had planned on walking to the Resident Pretentious Vegan Cafe for Independent Artistes and doing homework (pfha), but...again, I slept through most of the day. Well, not through. More on and off napping without leaving my room in between. But anyway. I open my e-mail this evening and see one from my mom and dad's joint email. It's a card they decided to scan instead of send via post. It was cute, cheesy, simple, but both of them wrote a message on it. My mom said "I can't believe you're almost all grown up and completely on your own. I love you very much. -- Mom" (I think you can tell from what I write and what I complain about here, especially regarding my own self-discipline, how not grown up I am.) My dad, far less verbose than my mom, especially when it comes to this sort of thing, just writes "Miss you, love Dad."
And right now I'm crying because I'd give anything to be home right now. I was way more upset than I let on to my mom about the fact that she couldn't come up to see me on the weekend of my birthday. I've been feeling on-and-off sick for the past weeks. And I'm just all over not liking it here as much as I should. I'm snapping at my friends, especially Luke because he says and does the -dumbest- things. And the one time he said something back it hurt more than I thought it would, and I didn't even really think about it until now. We were watching the Olympics, and this amazing Chinese couple skating to a wonderful arrangement of "Who Wants to Live Forever" by Queen. And he says "They remind me of two lovebirds, just kind of dancing around and coming together"....which...no. Not even my mother says things that cheesy. And I just shake my head and say "No... Just no." And he looks at me, flips me off and says "No, f--k you" (that is how he says it. He censors himself as if he were on cable TV. It sounds like "fhk". Except when he says "what the fuck." Then it's fully pronounced) "You have no passion."
So I look at him and say "I have plenty of passion, I just don't -talk- about it constantly."
And I'm thinking back and I can't believe he actually said that to me and meant it, because Luke means everything he says, even if he doesn't say it exactly right (he uses the wrong word a lot). He knows I have feelings. For fuck's sake, he -asks- me about them all the time (I shove apples down his shirt and call him Marianne).
I feel like I'm not allowed to miss my family here. Every one of my friends has a reason not to, and flaunts it like some kind of fucking medal. I mean it. Every single meatspace friend of mine here has a laundry list of reasons not to go home, and likes it that way. If I mention something awesome my parents do, I get about four stories about how someone's parents did the exact opposite. Or, God forbid I complain about some minor that they do, I get about six "Yeah, well -my- mom..." And it is seriously the most frustrating thing. I'm not allowed to have nice parents and complain about them sometimes. I never EVER claim that they don't love me or neglect me. But parents, just like their children, are humans and make mistakes, and I'm allowed to be disappointed when they do, just as they are disappointed when I fuck up.
Going back to the thing with my roommate and her boyfriend. She hasn't slept in this room in a long time--she prefers to sleep in his room across campus. It's been wonderful for me, since I do most of my studying at night, and I do best when I read aloud. Also, my alarms need to be eardrum-bustingly loud, multiple times, and it's great that I don't have to disturb anyone. But, long story short, her boyfriend's mom is a psycho, found out about it (they're not sure how), and in order to avoid the consequences, she's sleeping here from now on. Now...I've been pretty spoiled here. I applied for a roommate, realizing that I wouldn't have nearly the privacy I used to, and happened to get one who spent the majority of her nights elsewhere. But now I've gotten used to studying other ways and waking up in ways that I'm pretty damn sure are annoying for roommate-folk, and I'd really like not to change it. I -can't- change the alarm thing, because anything short of it doesn't wake me up. In addition to all this...I need time away from physical beings. I need my own little corner where I can just sit and be all by myself. And I have friends that like/need to be together until going to bed is absolutely necessary. I don't mind that we hang out so much, but it's socially/emotionally exhausting and I like having two or so hours to myself before I conk out and begin the next exhausting day. But now, I'll have someone sitting there when I get home.
I've just found out what happens when you need to sit there and cry but you have another person six feet away. The answer: you sniffle and suck it up.
TL;DR: I'd be better off in a single/I miss my parents/I am not a mature individual.
I'm never very bitter on this day. I call it "singles awareness day", because, yeah, way to rub it in, world, but it's never been a big issue for me. In fact, I would usually be very excited because I would come home from school and my dad would be home early from work with a box of chocolates and flowers for me (and obviously stuff for my mom too). I fucking love those chocolates like you wouldn't believe--the ones everyone says have that nasty toothpaste filling in em? Yeah, fuckin love. And last year I dressed up all pretty for work and made a shit ton of money in tips (and had some great, hilarious stress moments from my boss to look back on). I know I obviously wasn't going to get that this year, and I had planned on walking to the Resident Pretentious Vegan Cafe for Independent Artistes and doing homework (pfha), but...again, I slept through most of the day. Well, not through. More on and off napping without leaving my room in between. But anyway. I open my e-mail this evening and see one from my mom and dad's joint email. It's a card they decided to scan instead of send via post. It was cute, cheesy, simple, but both of them wrote a message on it. My mom said "I can't believe you're almost all grown up and completely on your own. I love you very much. -- Mom" (I think you can tell from what I write and what I complain about here, especially regarding my own self-discipline, how not grown up I am.) My dad, far less verbose than my mom, especially when it comes to this sort of thing, just writes "Miss you, love Dad."
And right now I'm crying because I'd give anything to be home right now. I was way more upset than I let on to my mom about the fact that she couldn't come up to see me on the weekend of my birthday. I've been feeling on-and-off sick for the past weeks. And I'm just all over not liking it here as much as I should. I'm snapping at my friends, especially Luke because he says and does the -dumbest- things. And the one time he said something back it hurt more than I thought it would, and I didn't even really think about it until now. We were watching the Olympics, and this amazing Chinese couple skating to a wonderful arrangement of "Who Wants to Live Forever" by Queen. And he says "They remind me of two lovebirds, just kind of dancing around and coming together"....which...no. Not even my mother says things that cheesy. And I just shake my head and say "No... Just no." And he looks at me, flips me off and says "No, f--k you" (that is how he says it. He censors himself as if he were on cable TV. It sounds like "fhk". Except when he says "what the fuck." Then it's fully pronounced) "You have no passion."
So I look at him and say "I have plenty of passion, I just don't -talk- about it constantly."
And I'm thinking back and I can't believe he actually said that to me and meant it, because Luke means everything he says, even if he doesn't say it exactly right (he uses the wrong word a lot). He knows I have feelings. For fuck's sake, he -asks- me about them all the time (I shove apples down his shirt and call him Marianne).
I feel like I'm not allowed to miss my family here. Every one of my friends has a reason not to, and flaunts it like some kind of fucking medal. I mean it. Every single meatspace friend of mine here has a laundry list of reasons not to go home, and likes it that way. If I mention something awesome my parents do, I get about four stories about how someone's parents did the exact opposite. Or, God forbid I complain about some minor that they do, I get about six "Yeah, well -my- mom..." And it is seriously the most frustrating thing. I'm not allowed to have nice parents and complain about them sometimes. I never EVER claim that they don't love me or neglect me. But parents, just like their children, are humans and make mistakes, and I'm allowed to be disappointed when they do, just as they are disappointed when I fuck up.
Going back to the thing with my roommate and her boyfriend. She hasn't slept in this room in a long time--she prefers to sleep in his room across campus. It's been wonderful for me, since I do most of my studying at night, and I do best when I read aloud. Also, my alarms need to be eardrum-bustingly loud, multiple times, and it's great that I don't have to disturb anyone. But, long story short, her boyfriend's mom is a psycho, found out about it (they're not sure how), and in order to avoid the consequences, she's sleeping here from now on. Now...I've been pretty spoiled here. I applied for a roommate, realizing that I wouldn't have nearly the privacy I used to, and happened to get one who spent the majority of her nights elsewhere. But now I've gotten used to studying other ways and waking up in ways that I'm pretty damn sure are annoying for roommate-folk, and I'd really like not to change it. I -can't- change the alarm thing, because anything short of it doesn't wake me up. In addition to all this...I need time away from physical beings. I need my own little corner where I can just sit and be all by myself. And I have friends that like/need to be together until going to bed is absolutely necessary. I don't mind that we hang out so much, but it's socially/emotionally exhausting and I like having two or so hours to myself before I conk out and begin the next exhausting day. But now, I'll have someone sitting there when I get home.
I've just found out what happens when you need to sit there and cry but you have another person six feet away. The answer: you sniffle and suck it up.
TL;DR: I'd be better off in a single/I miss my parents/I am not a mature individual.