we sailed away on a winter's day with fate as malleable as clay
it's been a muddled, mixed up week. the kind of week that has me listening to Cat Power's Moon Pix on repeat.
first off, i got into LCAD, which in and of itself feels like some kind of wonderful dizzying drug experience. i earned a $5,000 per year scholarship, which is great, because i'm a nervous wreck over the money. i'm so excited and optimistic and i can barely sit still when i start thinking about warm SoCal beaches and sunshine. my brain's just going a mile a minute, thinking, how will i take all my dvds with me? how will i find a dealer down there? how will i sleep without my enormous squishy bed? (it's already been decided that i'll get an air mattress for the first semester)
it's a beautiful kind of panic and i'm basking in it
it wouldn't be my life if that's all there is to say, tho. to celebrate my getting in, my parents have had the worst couple of fights i've seen in the last several weeks. to paraphrase what i said to a friend, i can't explain their fights to a non-family member. there's a family dynamic you need to know about to understand how these fights even start. but they almost always finish the same way, by pinning me between my raging psycho of a mother and unflappable dumbass father (i think this would be a good place for my disclaimer about how much i love my parents, and i do.)
but when she starts up with her shit at 8:35 IN THE MORNING. well, then. i think i'm entitled to at least one blog post about how i hate my parents, right?
dealing with her (and usually, my dad too) just exhausts me. i look back on the last three years since i graduated, and was still living at home, and it's really easy to understand why i was constantly unhappy and didn't have many friends or romantic shit going on. it occurred to me, the other night, how good my leaving will be for me and how bad it will be for my parents. whose gonna be the buffer between them when they start up again? whose gonna help my mom clean up doggy vomit in the middle of the night? whose gonan tell my dad when he's one comment away from sleeping in the garage?
but then i had a liberating thought in the middle of one such shouting match, which appeared as simply to me as flowers budding in springtime (like the ones outside my window - my whole room smells like jasmine). they are always going to fight, whether or not i'm around. i'm sure they fought while i was in france, and before i was born, and will always continue to do so. so why bother worry about it?
i imagine this tidal wave heading for someone whose only got flimsy little parasol for protection. if that metaphor-person is me, i guess what i'm doing is ditching the metaphor-parasol and heading for metaphor-higher ground (somewhere like Laguna, maybe?)
so let them ruin my happiness in these next few days. in a few months, i'll be gone, and time will tell if i've become so desensetized to this shit that i actually start to miss it.
peace, bitches.
m
first off, i got into LCAD, which in and of itself feels like some kind of wonderful dizzying drug experience. i earned a $5,000 per year scholarship, which is great, because i'm a nervous wreck over the money. i'm so excited and optimistic and i can barely sit still when i start thinking about warm SoCal beaches and sunshine. my brain's just going a mile a minute, thinking, how will i take all my dvds with me? how will i find a dealer down there? how will i sleep without my enormous squishy bed? (it's already been decided that i'll get an air mattress for the first semester)
it's a beautiful kind of panic and i'm basking in it
it wouldn't be my life if that's all there is to say, tho. to celebrate my getting in, my parents have had the worst couple of fights i've seen in the last several weeks. to paraphrase what i said to a friend, i can't explain their fights to a non-family member. there's a family dynamic you need to know about to understand how these fights even start. but they almost always finish the same way, by pinning me between my raging psycho of a mother and unflappable dumbass father (i think this would be a good place for my disclaimer about how much i love my parents, and i do.)
but when she starts up with her shit at 8:35 IN THE MORNING. well, then. i think i'm entitled to at least one blog post about how i hate my parents, right?
dealing with her (and usually, my dad too) just exhausts me. i look back on the last three years since i graduated, and was still living at home, and it's really easy to understand why i was constantly unhappy and didn't have many friends or romantic shit going on. it occurred to me, the other night, how good my leaving will be for me and how bad it will be for my parents. whose gonna be the buffer between them when they start up again? whose gonna help my mom clean up doggy vomit in the middle of the night? whose gonan tell my dad when he's one comment away from sleeping in the garage?
but then i had a liberating thought in the middle of one such shouting match, which appeared as simply to me as flowers budding in springtime (like the ones outside my window - my whole room smells like jasmine). they are always going to fight, whether or not i'm around. i'm sure they fought while i was in france, and before i was born, and will always continue to do so. so why bother worry about it?
i imagine this tidal wave heading for someone whose only got flimsy little parasol for protection. if that metaphor-person is me, i guess what i'm doing is ditching the metaphor-parasol and heading for metaphor-higher ground (somewhere like Laguna, maybe?)
so let them ruin my happiness in these next few days. in a few months, i'll be gone, and time will tell if i've become so desensetized to this shit that i actually start to miss it.
peace, bitches.
m