the time says 4:20... but we all know that means nothing to me
i've been doing a lot (like, a lot a lot) of thinking, even for me. it must be the long walks to and from work when no one picks up their phone to keep me company and i feel silly mouthing the words along to my ipod that has music i haven't listened to in years on it. so, i think.
on subject i think about, i need to stop thinking about because all it does is make me want something i can't have. especially not while i'm walking to work. trust me, you don't even want to know. well, like maybe two of you would get a kick outta this but the rest of you would roll your eyes and start screaming "TMI TMI!!!" actually, i doubt many of you read my long ass posts anyways. but whatever, i'll keep my dirty little secrets to myself.
another subject i've been thinking about lately is love. like you couldn't tell by the last two entries i made. mostly, i think about my mom. and her life. and how she lived it. and how she loved. and whom she loved. and how she deserves so much more that she has. sometimes, i think about her parents and how lucky they are to have found the loves of their lives and to be living happily together. occasionally, my dad comes to mind and how easy it is for him to charm people and how when i was growing up he was constantly dating someone new. how he married his current wife when she was four months pregnant after knowing her for a total of, maybe, seven or eight months. i like to believe he just married her because he thought he should, but that just doesn't fit with my dad's personality. he's never done anything just because he thought he should. i think about my sister. how messed up her life used to be. how she's finally taking charge of it. how she's living with bipolar disorder. how since the beginning of her high school years she's always had at least one guy chasing her and has rarely been alone. and, if you've seen my sister, or know my sister, how strange i find that. how she's always had a guy in her life and i haven't. not to sound conceited or anything, but i've always been prettier, smarter, more caring, more generous, more gracious, friendlier, more outgoing, the list continues. doesn't quite make sense to me.
sometimes i wish i was samantha. from sixteen candles. just for the father/daughter talk scene. well, and when she's making out with jake ryan, of course. but seriously. my father may desperately want me to find someone, but he has a strange way of showing it. constantly giving me strange looks if he meets a guy friend of mine. almost like he's assuming i've slept with him, and then looking disappointed when he realizes i haven't. my sister says i'm reading into it. and she knows him better than i do. they have similar selfish tendencies. never once has he asked if i've met anyone or offered sympathetic support for my depressing (lack of a) lovelife. sometimes i wonder if he really cares. do i look too much like my mom? act to much like my mom? she (my mom) says i remind her of him at certain times. she says when i get angry i look exactly like him. i suppose, to him, i'm just a younger version of her. he's never seen me mad, at least not like she has (i wasn't mad at her though, just for reference). he sees my auburn hair and sees her. he sees my freckled face and arms and sees her. i suppose that makes it difficult. a constant (well, when we're together anyway) visual reminder of a failed marriage.
marriages fail a lot in my family. my parents. my aunt. my uncle. my mother's father's first marriage. my sister. this worries me. a lot. i'm not sure why. just because they all got divorced doesn't really predict anything about my future. besides, my mother's father's first marriage wasn't just any normal failed marriage. my mother's biological mother was put in an institution and then her family took her away and no one's heard from her since. she didn't even show up to the divorce hearing. she was schizophrenic. or at least, that was her diagnosis in the fifties. could have just been bipolar disorder, they used to think they were the same. i know, i took classes.
mostly, on my two hours of commute time, i try not to think. because, no matter how it starts, it always ends up back at what i don't want to think about. and that just makes the walk uncomfortable. and a little sad. hopefully no one has any idea what i'm talking about. i barely do, and i'm the one who wrote it.
♥
on subject i think about, i need to stop thinking about because all it does is make me want something i can't have. especially not while i'm walking to work. trust me, you don't even want to know. well, like maybe two of you would get a kick outta this but the rest of you would roll your eyes and start screaming "TMI TMI!!!" actually, i doubt many of you read my long ass posts anyways. but whatever, i'll keep my dirty little secrets to myself.
another subject i've been thinking about lately is love. like you couldn't tell by the last two entries i made. mostly, i think about my mom. and her life. and how she lived it. and how she loved. and whom she loved. and how she deserves so much more that she has. sometimes, i think about her parents and how lucky they are to have found the loves of their lives and to be living happily together. occasionally, my dad comes to mind and how easy it is for him to charm people and how when i was growing up he was constantly dating someone new. how he married his current wife when she was four months pregnant after knowing her for a total of, maybe, seven or eight months. i like to believe he just married her because he thought he should, but that just doesn't fit with my dad's personality. he's never done anything just because he thought he should. i think about my sister. how messed up her life used to be. how she's finally taking charge of it. how she's living with bipolar disorder. how since the beginning of her high school years she's always had at least one guy chasing her and has rarely been alone. and, if you've seen my sister, or know my sister, how strange i find that. how she's always had a guy in her life and i haven't. not to sound conceited or anything, but i've always been prettier, smarter, more caring, more generous, more gracious, friendlier, more outgoing, the list continues. doesn't quite make sense to me.
sometimes i wish i was samantha. from sixteen candles. just for the father/daughter talk scene. well, and when she's making out with jake ryan, of course. but seriously. my father may desperately want me to find someone, but he has a strange way of showing it. constantly giving me strange looks if he meets a guy friend of mine. almost like he's assuming i've slept with him, and then looking disappointed when he realizes i haven't. my sister says i'm reading into it. and she knows him better than i do. they have similar selfish tendencies. never once has he asked if i've met anyone or offered sympathetic support for my depressing (lack of a) lovelife. sometimes i wonder if he really cares. do i look too much like my mom? act to much like my mom? she (my mom) says i remind her of him at certain times. she says when i get angry i look exactly like him. i suppose, to him, i'm just a younger version of her. he's never seen me mad, at least not like she has (i wasn't mad at her though, just for reference). he sees my auburn hair and sees her. he sees my freckled face and arms and sees her. i suppose that makes it difficult. a constant (well, when we're together anyway) visual reminder of a failed marriage.
marriages fail a lot in my family. my parents. my aunt. my uncle. my mother's father's first marriage. my sister. this worries me. a lot. i'm not sure why. just because they all got divorced doesn't really predict anything about my future. besides, my mother's father's first marriage wasn't just any normal failed marriage. my mother's biological mother was put in an institution and then her family took her away and no one's heard from her since. she didn't even show up to the divorce hearing. she was schizophrenic. or at least, that was her diagnosis in the fifties. could have just been bipolar disorder, they used to think they were the same. i know, i took classes.
mostly, on my two hours of commute time, i try not to think. because, no matter how it starts, it always ends up back at what i don't want to think about. and that just makes the walk uncomfortable. and a little sad. hopefully no one has any idea what i'm talking about. i barely do, and i'm the one who wrote it.
♥