So long...
I was getting chills earlier. Not because I was cold or any reason like that. They were good chills. Pure and honest. That might not make sense.
I can't wait for Thanksgiving. What I really want to do is wake up without an alarm clock. I want my mom to wake me up. I want for us to both put on aprons and cook dinner all day. Well, I pretend to help and she tells me that I'm doing a good job while I really sit on the couch and watch the parade on tv. It's ironic that the things that seem so trivial and meaningless at one time and the things you will someday miss the most.
I want my mom to brush my hair. That sounds weird, but I do.
I wish I could still pick out our Christmas tree every year. I used to pick out the perfect one every year. That's another one of those things that I miss. But I don't know...it always seemed like a big deal, even then. For some reason, everything I did with my dad seemed like a big deal and everything I did with my mom seemed like another thing I did with my mom. I don't know why that is. I've always loved them equally and never valued time with one over the other. I guess it's just because I see my mom more.
I read one of my poems in my Creative Writing class. It wasn't a big deal because we always read our poems, but I guess it was a big deal. It was about today. November 14th. Which is why I'm writing, I suppose. I guess my professor liked it, but she kind of tore it a part without meaning to. I know that one part really needed elaboration after reading it aloud to the class. It makes perfect sense to me because I'm inside of the poem, but I guess to an outsider, it seemed like something different. I got really defensive because she wanted me to basically change the meaning of the poem. She actually wanted me to take out the word "cancer," even though she thought the poem was strictly about my dad having cancer. When really, the poem was about my relationship with my dad and how cancer bonded us. I won't take out that word. I will change it, but I won't change that. She said it seemed too serious or not serious enough. I kind of wanted to punch her in the face.
I don't mind talking about it. At all. Having had cancer, I mean. I wish people would stop asking if I'm okay. That sounds awful. I don't mean it like that. It's hard to explain. I wish I could tell everyone that having cancer was the only thing that's ever made me feel alive. In some strange way, it saved me. I guess I could tell everyone that, but I don't think it would make much sense. I think I would sound pretentious when all I'd want to do is sound honest.
Sometimes I forget that my dad had cancer, too. Only lately have I wondered how it changed his life. I think it's different for me because I was young and I can't look in the mirror without seeing a visible scar of what it actually did to me. I wonder if God gave my dad cancer for the same reasons he gave it to me, but I don't think so.
I'm taking my dad sky diving on Father's Day of next year. It's his Christmas present, but we're obviously not going to go in the winter. I'm ridiculously excited. Maybe more excited about it than I am about going to Venice. And I am ecstatic about going to Venice. But taking my dad sky diving is something I've always wanted to do. I think my brother will come, too, which makes it even better.
I really can't wait for Venice.
I've grown a part from a lot of people this semester. And grown closer to others. Mainly it bothers me that I've grown a part from Nicole. So I plan on fixing that asap.
I don't like anyone right now. Which is weird. I've thought about the summer a lot. I think I've changed a lot over the past 6 months or so. That's a pretty big deal for me. I've decided that I have such a hard time with change because I've learned how to watch it happen. Most people don't recognize change until after it's already happened, but I watch it progress and it's scary because it's something you're powerless to. I want to get back to my roots. That sounds ridiculous.
The most recent "relationship," or rather, "thing" that I had was the most go-with-the-flow type relationship I've ever had. It was kind of nice. I wonder what would have hadn't told him that I could never trust him. I probably would've ended up trusting him. And I probably would've gotten hurt. So it's a good thing. It's a good thing even if I wouldn't have gotten hurt. I don't know why yet. I like that I liked him. It was one of those things that needed to happen.
I don't think about the past as much anymore when it comes to guys. One in general. Sometimes I find myself in utter disbelief at how much feelings can change. It scares me a lot, which is why I say I'm never going to get married. Feelings can change in an instant, or at least, that's what it feels like. I can't imagine being in love with someone and then just not being in love with them anymore. Maybe I should actually be in love with someone before I make this assessment. I don't know. I'm usually pretty right about things.
I ate too many munchkins.
I miss Oreo a lot. I still want to ask my parents about her every time I talk to them. I still can't believe she's gone sometimes. It's so unreal. I think the hardest part about missing someone that's dead, as opposed to just out of your life, is knowing that it's final. Maybe this is really obvious. But I am never going to touch her ever again. With an ex boyfriend or something, maybe you will never touch them again, but the opportunity is still there. Their being still exists and it is physically possible to touch them and hear them and even just see them in the flesh. I hate that one day I'm going to forget what her ears feel like.
I don't hate anyone. I don't know why I just felt like saying that. I wonder if I could forgive anything. I've forgiven everything that's happened/been done to me thus far. I wonder if it will always stay this way.
Today at dinner, a few of us were talking about things that people hate being called. I couldn't think of one, but I've been called mean once and it really upset me. I'd rather be called a bitch. I don't think I'm mean. Maybe it's an unfair judgment. But I'd really like to think that if you think I'm mean, then you just don't know me well enough.
The one thing that I've been really thankful for this semester is Annmarie. I'm at a stage right now where I need my other head, or clear head, and she's been it. She's like me, only on the outside of myself.
Lately I feel like I've been making stupid mistakes/decisions. I don't regret any of them, but I don't want to hurt myself down the line. I think I'm going to be really upset at the end of the semester when I don't have all As.
I can't wait for turkey and mashed potatoes. Mainly the mashed potatoes. It surprises me every Thanksgiving that I still like turkey. Maybe because I only eat it once a year.
I can't wait for Thanksgiving. What I really want to do is wake up without an alarm clock. I want my mom to wake me up. I want for us to both put on aprons and cook dinner all day. Well, I pretend to help and she tells me that I'm doing a good job while I really sit on the couch and watch the parade on tv. It's ironic that the things that seem so trivial and meaningless at one time and the things you will someday miss the most.
I want my mom to brush my hair. That sounds weird, but I do.
I wish I could still pick out our Christmas tree every year. I used to pick out the perfect one every year. That's another one of those things that I miss. But I don't know...it always seemed like a big deal, even then. For some reason, everything I did with my dad seemed like a big deal and everything I did with my mom seemed like another thing I did with my mom. I don't know why that is. I've always loved them equally and never valued time with one over the other. I guess it's just because I see my mom more.
I read one of my poems in my Creative Writing class. It wasn't a big deal because we always read our poems, but I guess it was a big deal. It was about today. November 14th. Which is why I'm writing, I suppose. I guess my professor liked it, but she kind of tore it a part without meaning to. I know that one part really needed elaboration after reading it aloud to the class. It makes perfect sense to me because I'm inside of the poem, but I guess to an outsider, it seemed like something different. I got really defensive because she wanted me to basically change the meaning of the poem. She actually wanted me to take out the word "cancer," even though she thought the poem was strictly about my dad having cancer. When really, the poem was about my relationship with my dad and how cancer bonded us. I won't take out that word. I will change it, but I won't change that. She said it seemed too serious or not serious enough. I kind of wanted to punch her in the face.
I don't mind talking about it. At all. Having had cancer, I mean. I wish people would stop asking if I'm okay. That sounds awful. I don't mean it like that. It's hard to explain. I wish I could tell everyone that having cancer was the only thing that's ever made me feel alive. In some strange way, it saved me. I guess I could tell everyone that, but I don't think it would make much sense. I think I would sound pretentious when all I'd want to do is sound honest.
Sometimes I forget that my dad had cancer, too. Only lately have I wondered how it changed his life. I think it's different for me because I was young and I can't look in the mirror without seeing a visible scar of what it actually did to me. I wonder if God gave my dad cancer for the same reasons he gave it to me, but I don't think so.
I'm taking my dad sky diving on Father's Day of next year. It's his Christmas present, but we're obviously not going to go in the winter. I'm ridiculously excited. Maybe more excited about it than I am about going to Venice. And I am ecstatic about going to Venice. But taking my dad sky diving is something I've always wanted to do. I think my brother will come, too, which makes it even better.
I really can't wait for Venice.
I've grown a part from a lot of people this semester. And grown closer to others. Mainly it bothers me that I've grown a part from Nicole. So I plan on fixing that asap.
I don't like anyone right now. Which is weird. I've thought about the summer a lot. I think I've changed a lot over the past 6 months or so. That's a pretty big deal for me. I've decided that I have such a hard time with change because I've learned how to watch it happen. Most people don't recognize change until after it's already happened, but I watch it progress and it's scary because it's something you're powerless to. I want to get back to my roots. That sounds ridiculous.
The most recent "relationship," or rather, "thing" that I had was the most go-with-the-flow type relationship I've ever had. It was kind of nice. I wonder what would have hadn't told him that I could never trust him. I probably would've ended up trusting him. And I probably would've gotten hurt. So it's a good thing. It's a good thing even if I wouldn't have gotten hurt. I don't know why yet. I like that I liked him. It was one of those things that needed to happen.
I don't think about the past as much anymore when it comes to guys. One in general. Sometimes I find myself in utter disbelief at how much feelings can change. It scares me a lot, which is why I say I'm never going to get married. Feelings can change in an instant, or at least, that's what it feels like. I can't imagine being in love with someone and then just not being in love with them anymore. Maybe I should actually be in love with someone before I make this assessment. I don't know. I'm usually pretty right about things.
I ate too many munchkins.
I miss Oreo a lot. I still want to ask my parents about her every time I talk to them. I still can't believe she's gone sometimes. It's so unreal. I think the hardest part about missing someone that's dead, as opposed to just out of your life, is knowing that it's final. Maybe this is really obvious. But I am never going to touch her ever again. With an ex boyfriend or something, maybe you will never touch them again, but the opportunity is still there. Their being still exists and it is physically possible to touch them and hear them and even just see them in the flesh. I hate that one day I'm going to forget what her ears feel like.
I don't hate anyone. I don't know why I just felt like saying that. I wonder if I could forgive anything. I've forgiven everything that's happened/been done to me thus far. I wonder if it will always stay this way.
Today at dinner, a few of us were talking about things that people hate being called. I couldn't think of one, but I've been called mean once and it really upset me. I'd rather be called a bitch. I don't think I'm mean. Maybe it's an unfair judgment. But I'd really like to think that if you think I'm mean, then you just don't know me well enough.
The one thing that I've been really thankful for this semester is Annmarie. I'm at a stage right now where I need my other head, or clear head, and she's been it. She's like me, only on the outside of myself.
Lately I feel like I've been making stupid mistakes/decisions. I don't regret any of them, but I don't want to hurt myself down the line. I think I'm going to be really upset at the end of the semester when I don't have all As.
I can't wait for turkey and mashed potatoes. Mainly the mashed potatoes. It surprises me every Thanksgiving that I still like turkey. Maybe because I only eat it once a year.