Here we go again. Numb and cold and completely unknowing what to do.
Let's go back over the basic reason. It all started a week ago, when I got into a fight with Mama over going driving with Brian. This was... Thursday? Friday? And then, as I'm wont to do when I'm upset... I avoided both of them all weekend. In fact, Kellin (being more confrontational than I am) was friendlier than I was, but whenever he said anything, he got dirty looks... so he stopped too.
Everything came to a head on Sunday morning, over gas money. It ended in a screaming match and fistfight between me and my Mom. It summed up to (I'm not sure which) either Kellin was completely fucking up my life, or I was fucking up my own life and his too.
When I got picked up from Driver's Ed later that day, I argued with Brian the entire way home. I thought I got through to him, too. And after listening to him go on about how I should give Mama all my savings and such, I went into my account, pulled out a hundred bucks out of my untouchable savings, and handed it to him. He refused to take it, and told me I should give it to her myself. Fair enough. He had me there. He also told me I should apologize to her when I gave her it.
I still don't know what I was supposed to be apologizing for. Not saying hi when I came in? Shit that happened months ago? I didn't start the fight. Assumptions and misunderstandings started the fight. Maybe fear of confrontation on my part made it worse, and continued to make it worse over the past week, because tonight is my first night home since that day. But in retrospect, I'd have to say that Brian didn't help (the way I originally thought). Sick of listening to him expound Mama's virtues and my faults, I said fine. I'd give her the money, and then I'd be gone for the rest of the week. I still don't know whether he passed on that part of the message. I gave her the cash in the morning right before I left for work... confused and sad and--on and off--mad, the same feelings I'd been all weekend.
Let me state right now that Kellin may be a catalyst, but he wasn't and isn't the cause of many of things that propagated the fight. Every single thing I said was a thought I'd had for a long time... some of them, years. I do know that if I hadn't been with Kellin for so long, I might never have said any of the things on my mind. But they were, and are, my thoughts, not his. The biggest difference in the fights I've had with my mom over the years, and this fight with Kellin there was that when I ended up in my room, having panic attacks and freaking out and crying... instead of burying my head in Alaska (my stuffed polar bear), I buried my head in his shoulder.
We didn't escape to my room to scream and bitch about her, or to go fuck out our sorrows, or even to smoke large quantities of pot to fry our brains. Hell, I didn't even do what I used to do, and hurt myself. I just cried.
And as promised, I didn't come home the next day, or the day after that. Not because I love Kellin's family so much better than mine... because I didn't want to be in my house. I was sick of crying. I am sick of crying. I didn't want to have to talk with Mama... I didn't want to spend the next week trapped in my house, begging for rides, hiding in my room the way I had all weekend. Kellin is the next closest person to me. I had already spent my Driver's Ed texting Blair, and if I'd had a car, I would have probably driven over to her house that night.
I wasn't actually planning on staying a whole week, after I got over my initial anger. But I still hadn't heard from Mama, and a couple of days after I left home, Kai called me from his cell phone at the park, super upset. Apparently, Mama had a hissy fit during his haircut. So... she hadn't calmed down at all, it seemed... and I knew that the fight was tied to me.
I believe my exact thought was "fuck going home".
The week was not spent partying, either. The week was spent going to bed early and waking up earlier. Anybody's illusions would be dashed by having to wake up at 4 30 am every morning.
On Thursday or Friday, I had to get my ass in gear and come to a decision: obviously, I couldn't hide at Kellin's forever. So I said Monday. I'd go home after Driver's Ed on Monday. That's what I told Kellin when he started to pester me to call my mother and settle things. That's what I told Michelle, too. And today, when I called the house from work, Brian picked up. He seemed friendly enough, so I felt a little better. He promised to pick me up at 7.
By 6 20, I was stressed. I nearly flipped at my instructor, but I stopped myself, because I won't be able to handle my test if I can't drive well under pressure. When I got out of the car (finally) and Brian was nowhere to be found, I checked my messages on my voicemail. A lovely one from my Uncle, telling me if I didn't call him back he'd come to Calgary and slap me, and that Mama had been calling him crying, and this "boy" I was dating--
-click-
I hung up on it. I knew the gist already, I couldn't call him back on my cell anyways because it was long distance, and my stress level had shot back up to verge of tears. Funny how just the prospect of going home to everything put me right back to a week ago; endless tears.
So I sat. Waited. Froze my butt off. A week obviously hadn't made a difference... none at all. After a half hour, I performed the usual rounds of calling that occur whenever my ride is way late. Found out Brian went to Chinook for whatever reason (which was nowhere near where I was or where I told him to pick me up). Mama sounded pissed when I called; Brian was obviously pissed when he finally called me and found out I wasn't at Chinook (the misunderstanding was all my fault, of course). Lovely homecoming, no?
In the car, I was informed by Brian that Mama probably wouldn't have much to say to me when I got home, but he would speak for her. The gist:
- Kellin is never allowed to set foot in the house or the car again, or Uncle Ty will come here, kick the shit out of him, and Mama and Brian will call the school board and really fuck him up. I quote on the school board part.
- I'm apparently marrying him. Because I'm pregnant. Funny, since I've told everyone (including Kellin) that I have no desire to get married at all, never mind anytime soon.
- Michelle was an alcoholic when she had Kellin, Kellin is an alcoholic and will be forever, and I'm going to be fighting an uphill battle against his alcoholism my entire life.
- They've discovered all my secrets via Facebook, including but not limited to the marriage thing, and Kellin attempting to subvert Uncle Ty (who has told him to go fuck himself, Brian added smugly).
- By not calling my mother, I completely destroyed her life and she had no way of knowing whether I was alive (funny, Kai managed to call me fine on my cell when he was upset).
- While he has every bit of confidence that I'll go to University, apparently I'm going to spend from now 'til the day I start stoned and be stupid by the time I get there. Never mind that the last bit of pot I bought, I've now had since Saturday with more than half remaining. I'm not stoned now and haven't been since I smoked a small bowl before work this morning (which has been my tradition now for at least two years, with no apparent ill effects).
- I have abandoned all my friends and refuse to speak to them or see them (obviously they didn't look too hard at my Facebook or they would have seen all the wall posts and messages where I'm catching up with the friends who've moved--which is most of them, for post-sec--and trying to make arrangements with the others). This abandonment would be to give myself mind, body and soul to Kellin, I'd assume.
But, at the same time...
- My family is ready and willing to give me anything I could possibly want, ready to allow me to do anything I want, and ready and willing to give me a ride anywhere with no problems.
And so, I'm at a loss.
I arrived home bemused, numb, and with renewed determination to avoid Mama's anger. When I first logged onto the computer, checked my email and saw that there are notes from Mama on my Facebook, I expected more screaming, more judgmental comments. A week's worth of bitching from her, my uncle, and everyone else she could convince to listen. After all, after our fight the first thing she did was call up Michelle (who didn't take a side).
I didn't expect a quiet note or two saying that Mama loved me. I didn't expect absolutely nothing from anyone else (excluding friends' replies), including nothing at all from Uncle Ty to Kellin. And now I'm more confused than ever.
Everyone seems to have given me up for a lost cause. Losing my intelligence, getting fucked up all the time, with no thought or plan for the future. Meanwhile, I feel like I'm alone in the middle of an enormous tug of war. I'm trying to fight the downward spiral of being broke and 'getting by' on one hand. I don't want to end up like Michelle and Kilo, but I don't want to end up like Mama either. I don't want to be rich... I just don't want to have to worry about money, and I want to be happy. It's easy to go to school your entire life and not think about it because it's something you have to do. That's what all my friends are doing. They can party and do whatever they want because their lives are just starting. They have the money and career issues, but they can always fall back on their parents. They don't have to really start thinking yet. I like learning and I like school and I'm trying to fight my own natural desire to not think about the future and just settle. I'm willing to help Kellin fight it too, as long as I know it's not for nothing and he doesn't intend to let his life stagnate, either.
Trying to be responsible without squeezing all the fun out of your life and alienating everyone is hard. It's even harder when the people who are supposed to be on your side are telling you that you're not doing it well enough and try to take control and do it for you. I'm trying to save money and make plans and keep believing that if I try hard enough and keep enough faith, I'll have the life I want. How the fuck do I explain that when I don't get the chance to speak? How the fuck do I make both sides understand that I'm trying, goddamnit?
More than the fact that I don't want to, I don't see why I should have to choose between Kellin and my family. I think that the problems that Mama and Brian seem to have with him are more problems with me that they're blaming on him. All the things I've been fighting about since I was 12 are now suddenly Kellin's fault. Instead of comforting me, he's subverting me. And as the animosity builds against him, his family's animosity builds towards mine because of what Kellin perceives as my family's mistreatment of me and what his family perceives as haughtiness. I feel like I'm stuck as the middleman in a giant game of telephone, purposely editing conversations both ways to try and keep the peace, always worrying about both sides being happy.
The ruiner from Nine Inch Nails' song is wandering around spreading discord. All these little things have become so big. Even though I know that part of what makes it worse and worse is the fact that nobody will talk it out and everyone hides everything until it all gets bigger and bigger and it explodes everywhere the way it's doing now. And I don't know how to fix it. I don't even want to go upstairs. I don't want to come home tomorrow. Brian seems to be a warmonger. Mama's notes make me think and wish that everything can be okay again, but Brian says the opposite and every time I speak to her about the littlest thing I can hear the condemnation in her voice.
I guess that's what it all boils down to. I can't stand to face that condemnation. It frustrates me, because I don't think I deserve it. It makes me sad, because I want Mama to believe me and believe in me. And it makes me uncontrollably mad, because while she's busy yelling and condemning, she refuses to listen to or give credence to anything I say. It's wrong before I even get it out. And then there's only tears, since she has a talent for making me cry. Like now, though we've probably said three words to each other since the fight.
And now I'm going to go to bed. I'll wake up tomorrow morning, worry about a ride, get to work one way or another... and then I don't know. I know I have to come home. But I don't want to. It doesn't feel like home when I'm always hiding.
It feels like Daddy's living in the house again, and he's not even in the country. At Kellin's house I can walk around freely and not watch every step and every word (which is why I was there a week), but I don't have my cat or my computer or my books. At home, I have the things but not the comfort. And nowhere do I have freedom, no matter what Brian and Mama scream at me. Freedom isn't being able to do anything without consequences... it's being able to use your own judgment and being allowed to deal with the repercussions on your own.
Did that make sense? The thought and feeling are there, but I can't express it properly. Story of my life, or at least my life recently.
Bedtime. I still feel lost, and still have no idea what's going to happen except probably more avoidance. But I don't know what else I can do, either. Right now, I just want to cuddle with my cat and forget the rest of the world. Tomorrow's gonna suck. Everyone's solutions might make it better for them, or make a point, but they sure as fuck make my life harder.
Lah.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
A Moment for Widow.
*sigh*
I'm tired.
But hey, what else is new? I've got a new, full-time job working at Woody's RV World detailing RVs (insert sneer, a la Mama, here), and I've got a full life. Kellin's in the middle of moving, and I've got his cats staying in my room for a couple of days in the meantime.
Mama is, as usual, being terrorized by Fil and has responded by going totally insane. No surprise there, either. You know, for someone with a life as crazy and weird as mine, it's sometimes scarily predictable.
And now for a random change of subject.
I've lost one of my kitties, and I'd like to just dedicate a moment to Widow, my lovely grey familiar with the golden eyes. She disappeared a couple of weeks ago when I was at Kellin's, a most unusual thing since she's not one to wander much further than the neighbour's house. Despite all our efforts and my prayers, she has disappeared off the face of the earth.
Mama says, quite seriously, that she went to commune with the Mothership or equivalent, since Widow had such power when she looked at you that none of us really thought she was truly a cat.
Kai just says we're lucky not to have found pieces of her.
As for me? Even if I never see her again, I wish that I could at least find out what really happened to my Widow, because I honestly have no idea. I miss her, though...
I still have Trace, my little black hunter. And I still have Blunt and Pinner, Kellin's two sweeties. And I love them all, and am grateful for them.
But Widow was my familiar, the one of all of them who was my cat. I picked her out, brought her home, and was her familiar as much as she's mine.
So a moment for her, and a prayer that somehow she'll come back.
Lah.
I'm tired.
But hey, what else is new? I've got a new, full-time job working at Woody's RV World detailing RVs (insert sneer, a la Mama, here), and I've got a full life. Kellin's in the middle of moving, and I've got his cats staying in my room for a couple of days in the meantime.
Mama is, as usual, being terrorized by Fil and has responded by going totally insane. No surprise there, either. You know, for someone with a life as crazy and weird as mine, it's sometimes scarily predictable.
And now for a random change of subject.
I've lost one of my kitties, and I'd like to just dedicate a moment to Widow, my lovely grey familiar with the golden eyes. She disappeared a couple of weeks ago when I was at Kellin's, a most unusual thing since she's not one to wander much further than the neighbour's house. Despite all our efforts and my prayers, she has disappeared off the face of the earth.
Mama says, quite seriously, that she went to commune with the Mothership or equivalent, since Widow had such power when she looked at you that none of us really thought she was truly a cat.
Kai just says we're lucky not to have found pieces of her.
As for me? Even if I never see her again, I wish that I could at least find out what really happened to my Widow, because I honestly have no idea. I miss her, though...
I still have Trace, my little black hunter. And I still have Blunt and Pinner, Kellin's two sweeties. And I love them all, and am grateful for them.
But Widow was my familiar, the one of all of them who was my cat. I picked her out, brought her home, and was her familiar as much as she's mine.
So a moment for her, and a prayer that somehow she'll come back.
Lah.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Self-Pity.
I don't know what to do.
I just feel completely numbed out. I probably look shell-shocked. Eyes wide and barely focused, mouth hanging open slightly, my voice barely above a whisper, with the occasional tear still running down my cheek independant of my thoughts.
I don't give a fuck anymore.
I don't know how I'm going to get up tomorrow morning. Or the morning after that. Or how I keep getting up day after day. Work. Smoke. Work. Fuck. Work. Smoke. Sleep. Wake up. And start over.
I know that this is melodramatic. Those who agree, please read the third paragraph down from the top of this entry again.
I don't want to get stoned and make it go away. I don't care enough to want to make it go away. I just want to curl up into the fetal position and stay there.
Half an hour ago I hated Kellin. All I wanted was for him to think about something other than weed for a change. All I wanted was for him to be there when I got off work. To see a friendly face. His friendly face. But I don't want a big deal to be made over me. I want things simple. Everything has a price. Now he's saying he'll try and get out here... but at the price of Adam bitching to everybody about me. At the price of him trying to find gas money, or being resentful because I cut his evening short, or whatever.
WHATEVER.
I'm not worth it. It's not worth it. But I don't want to call back again. Why not? I don't know. So I won't be an even bigger bother. So that I don't have to face the chance of speaking to Adam again. Because I just don't care enough to.
My feet hurt. Maybe I should take off the rollerblades. I'm cold. Maybe I should put on a sweater or something. Maybe I don't care enough to. Maybe the part of my brain that's a writer just relishes the idea of him rushing to the rescue to find me in such poor condition.
There are no sharp objects nearby. Probably a good thing.
Ten oclock. Why does it feel like it's so much earlier? Maybe because I worked so long already today that it feels like it's never going to end. It's getting dark, I think. I can kinda see outside. I don't want it to get dark. I don't know why.
The moon is full tonight. Maybe that's part of why I feel so horrible.
Let me predict the present. Kellin's driving around. Laughing, smoking the 20 bag he bought with the 20 dollars he managed to get out. Out of the corner of his mind he's worried about me, but he's not sure what to do. Adam is whispering bull into his ear, until he sees that he can benefit, which is when he switches tacks and plays along to Kellin's emotions while attempting to manipulate the situation to his own benefit.
I could hate him.
But... I don't. He's a sad and pathetic little man.
Why am I wasting space talking about him?
Why am I wasting space talking?
Why am I wasting space?
And here comes the phone call... he can't find a way out here. He'll call me back after he smokes a joint. He tried to find a way out here despite his mom wanting to take him somewhere or do something (maybe take him to the doctor since he's apparently puking up blood?), because I said the time we spoke that started all of this that I wanted to kill myself. No drama there. No joking. I probably won't. But I'd like to. Not so that people will notice me or pay attention to me or feel sorry for me... just because I simply can't take it anymore. I can't do this anymore.
I just feel completely numbed out. I probably look shell-shocked. Eyes wide and barely focused, mouth hanging open slightly, my voice barely above a whisper, with the occasional tear still running down my cheek independant of my thoughts.
I don't give a fuck anymore.
I don't know how I'm going to get up tomorrow morning. Or the morning after that. Or how I keep getting up day after day. Work. Smoke. Work. Fuck. Work. Smoke. Sleep. Wake up. And start over.
I know that this is melodramatic. Those who agree, please read the third paragraph down from the top of this entry again.
I don't want to get stoned and make it go away. I don't care enough to want to make it go away. I just want to curl up into the fetal position and stay there.
Half an hour ago I hated Kellin. All I wanted was for him to think about something other than weed for a change. All I wanted was for him to be there when I got off work. To see a friendly face. His friendly face. But I don't want a big deal to be made over me. I want things simple. Everything has a price. Now he's saying he'll try and get out here... but at the price of Adam bitching to everybody about me. At the price of him trying to find gas money, or being resentful because I cut his evening short, or whatever.
WHATEVER.
I'm not worth it. It's not worth it. But I don't want to call back again. Why not? I don't know. So I won't be an even bigger bother. So that I don't have to face the chance of speaking to Adam again. Because I just don't care enough to.
My feet hurt. Maybe I should take off the rollerblades. I'm cold. Maybe I should put on a sweater or something. Maybe I don't care enough to. Maybe the part of my brain that's a writer just relishes the idea of him rushing to the rescue to find me in such poor condition.
There are no sharp objects nearby. Probably a good thing.
Ten oclock. Why does it feel like it's so much earlier? Maybe because I worked so long already today that it feels like it's never going to end. It's getting dark, I think. I can kinda see outside. I don't want it to get dark. I don't know why.
The moon is full tonight. Maybe that's part of why I feel so horrible.
Let me predict the present. Kellin's driving around. Laughing, smoking the 20 bag he bought with the 20 dollars he managed to get out. Out of the corner of his mind he's worried about me, but he's not sure what to do. Adam is whispering bull into his ear, until he sees that he can benefit, which is when he switches tacks and plays along to Kellin's emotions while attempting to manipulate the situation to his own benefit.
I could hate him.
But... I don't. He's a sad and pathetic little man.
Why am I wasting space talking about him?
Why am I wasting space talking?
Why am I wasting space?
And here comes the phone call... he can't find a way out here. He'll call me back after he smokes a joint. He tried to find a way out here despite his mom wanting to take him somewhere or do something (maybe take him to the doctor since he's apparently puking up blood?), because I said the time we spoke that started all of this that I wanted to kill myself. No drama there. No joking. I probably won't. But I'd like to. Not so that people will notice me or pay attention to me or feel sorry for me... just because I simply can't take it anymore. I can't do this anymore.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
These Boots Are Made For Walkin'.
Whew, what a weekend. I was unceremoniously ditched both Friday and Saturday night, but hey. It was an okay weekend anyways.
The yearly grad fashion show was on Friday... I didn't participate, but I still got in for free since I'm technically a grad. It was lovely, I had fun... and then there was the even-more-famous fashion show afterparty. Where I drank and drank and drank some more! And all in all, I had a pretty good time.
I talked to Mama about how what irks me about Kellin ditching me is that he tends to do it on the weekend (sometimes both nights, like this weekend) and whenever he decides to have a 'boys night' he ends up going to parties where not only are there chicks but they're the kind of parties I like and he ends up doing the drugs I like. In fact, he ends up doing them more on the 'boys nights' than he does with me.
Her response was a funny look. "You're gorgeous, smart, and capable of handling yourself," she said. "First of all, what kind of idiot leaves a gorgeous girl at home when he goes out to a party. And second of all, why the hell should a girl as gorgeous as you need him to party?"
Apart from having just been called gorgeous three times in the space of thirty seconds, my mind spun with the implications of that. Yes, I'd already decided that I wanted a party life in which I didn't necessarily need him to have fun, but to have her say it so plainly to me made me realize that she was right. All of this has given me niggling feelings that there's something wrong with me that he doesn't want to take me with him. Or even (since he used to all the time) that now that we're more serious he doesn't see me as being in that darker part of his life. Maybe the latter is still a possibility, but I realized that there ain't nothin' wrong with me! My life didn't begin when I started going out with him... Why the hell should it have ended?
Plus I spent five hours today raking leaves. What does that have to do with anything? I'll tell you. That's an awful long time to be raking, with only two ten-minute breaks. So of course, that's a lot of songs on my Smile! playlist. And while I was raking the leaves and listening to the songs come up one after the other, I realized that most of them were female power-up beats and lyrics. Everything from Pink's 'Respect' to Aretha's 'Respect', with some Dresden Dolls and Destiny's Child and a bunch of others thrown in. Geez, even Bob Marley's 'Get Up Stand Up', now that I think about it.
So how can I know the lyrics to all these songs by heart, and sing them in such a heartfelt way, and just realize now that I'm not always practicing what I preach.
*sigh* It'd be so much easier if this boy just smartened up. Not that I wouldn't still follow these thoughts of mine, but at least maybe I wouldn't feel so much like I'm plotting against him.
Or maybe I'm just stoned.
Well, actually I know for a fact that I'm pretty there, but that's not the point.
Moving on.
So yes. My crazy suspicions about Chris, which I guess aren't so crazy after all because when I described them to my mother she was like "DUH!". Basically lately, I've been getting the crazy impression that he's trying to put a gap between Kellin and me. Not majourly so, but doing and saying little things that could and sometimes do fuck things up. Witness the following:
Pieces of mist detach themselves from the edges of vision, thickening and coming together to form the words...
Exhibit A - "Smoke Break"
It's morning and I just got to school... I have a few minutes before work to go out for a cigarette and chill with Kellin before having to work. I meet him near the cafeteria and tell him I'm going out for a smoke. He asks if I could share it with him. I agree and we start to head outside, only for him to be pulled back into the cafeteria by my boss, Deb, to finish a task he'd forgotten on his early-morning rounds. I wait for a minute or two, then go outside to chitchat and await him. I delay lighting my smoke, afraid it will be finished by the time he joins us. When Crystal, seeing that I have not yet lit my smoke, offers me a lighter, I explain. Chris gives me a sideways look and says "You know he wouldn't do the same for you, right?" and I disagreed and everyone got into a small discussion about it. It was a little thing, but it bugged me for a while (especially since he almost always shares whatever cigarette he has with me, even if I have my own).
Exhibit B - "Time Apart"
The scene is Thursday, the day my mother got home from Jamaica. I'd been staying at Kellin's for about a week, with few problems or fights. Earlier in the day Brian had told me that he was picking Mama up from the airport and since I had no ride I'd just see her Friday. Over the course of the day, some things happened to irritate me, so Kellin and I weren't as close and cuddly as usual. When we got home for the evening, Kellin had to help his mom at the school. I had a headache, so I bowed out. A few hours passed and I was comfortable and chilling with Brandon and about to eat dinner when he got back, saying he might have to go back later. He wasn't hungry so he went downstairs to play video games. I had no desire to watch him play video games so I ate upstairs. After dinner Brandon invited me to do blades, so we started that and I expected Kellin to smell the pot and appear upstairs. But after a while and no Kellin, Brandon told me he'd gone back to help out his mom at the school. I was surprised he hadn't even said bye or anything, but figured we'd work things out when he got back.
It was just after ten, I think, when Brandon and I went to put on Fight Club and the phone rang. It was Kai, telling me that not only were he and Brian picking me up to go to the airport, but they'd be there in ten minutes. Eeeek! I scrambled together my purse and left, never to return (until the next day at least).
That was the story as I knew it until Friday night. That night Kellin confessed that Chris had called and Kellin had been irritated at me being mad at him and told him what was going on. Chris told him that we obviously needed time apart, and kindly volunteered his services for Kellin to lie to his brother and ditch out and go drive around and get weed on what should have been my last night out there. What turned out not even to be that much.
And he had the nerve to go "I got home and you weren't there..." when I saw him on Friday.
Oh yeah, and Chris sure must be a great guy to get girl advice from, considering how well he was doing with his girlfriend for the last few months.
Exhibit C - "Come on, boys only..."
Funny how every singly 'boys night', especially the ones where he goes AWOL, either start out with or include Chris in some way. Nights where he admits he wanted to do it with me to begin with but end up with me not being invited. How I used to go along everywhere, no problem, until I got back from Montreal and Chris and and Savannah started having problems. I suspect there's a little devil whispering in Kellin's ear, and his name starts with a C. Funny how all of a sudden I've been invited next weekend, when Savannah will also be going along for the first time in a while.
Oh, and I sure as hell haven't forgiven that boy for being the devil whispering in Kellin's ear about other things, either. One other thing in particular.
I have a feeling that whatever Chris is having a problem with, he wants Kellin to have a problem with, too. And a sneaking suspicion that he's jealous of my friendship with Michelle. *sigh* it's all so childish.
Anyways, I have to work tomorrow and I'm exhausted. Enough of my obsessing. It's bedtime.
Lah.
The yearly grad fashion show was on Friday... I didn't participate, but I still got in for free since I'm technically a grad. It was lovely, I had fun... and then there was the even-more-famous fashion show afterparty. Where I drank and drank and drank some more! And all in all, I had a pretty good time.
I talked to Mama about how what irks me about Kellin ditching me is that he tends to do it on the weekend (sometimes both nights, like this weekend) and whenever he decides to have a 'boys night' he ends up going to parties where not only are there chicks but they're the kind of parties I like and he ends up doing the drugs I like. In fact, he ends up doing them more on the 'boys nights' than he does with me.
Her response was a funny look. "You're gorgeous, smart, and capable of handling yourself," she said. "First of all, what kind of idiot leaves a gorgeous girl at home when he goes out to a party. And second of all, why the hell should a girl as gorgeous as you need him to party?"
Apart from having just been called gorgeous three times in the space of thirty seconds, my mind spun with the implications of that. Yes, I'd already decided that I wanted a party life in which I didn't necessarily need him to have fun, but to have her say it so plainly to me made me realize that she was right. All of this has given me niggling feelings that there's something wrong with me that he doesn't want to take me with him. Or even (since he used to all the time) that now that we're more serious he doesn't see me as being in that darker part of his life. Maybe the latter is still a possibility, but I realized that there ain't nothin' wrong with me! My life didn't begin when I started going out with him... Why the hell should it have ended?
Plus I spent five hours today raking leaves. What does that have to do with anything? I'll tell you. That's an awful long time to be raking, with only two ten-minute breaks. So of course, that's a lot of songs on my Smile! playlist. And while I was raking the leaves and listening to the songs come up one after the other, I realized that most of them were female power-up beats and lyrics. Everything from Pink's 'Respect' to Aretha's 'Respect', with some Dresden Dolls and Destiny's Child and a bunch of others thrown in. Geez, even Bob Marley's 'Get Up Stand Up', now that I think about it.
So how can I know the lyrics to all these songs by heart, and sing them in such a heartfelt way, and just realize now that I'm not always practicing what I preach.
*sigh* It'd be so much easier if this boy just smartened up. Not that I wouldn't still follow these thoughts of mine, but at least maybe I wouldn't feel so much like I'm plotting against him.
Or maybe I'm just stoned.
Well, actually I know for a fact that I'm pretty there, but that's not the point.
Moving on.
So yes. My crazy suspicions about Chris, which I guess aren't so crazy after all because when I described them to my mother she was like "DUH!". Basically lately, I've been getting the crazy impression that he's trying to put a gap between Kellin and me. Not majourly so, but doing and saying little things that could and sometimes do fuck things up. Witness the following:
Pieces of mist detach themselves from the edges of vision, thickening and coming together to form the words...
Exhibit A - "Smoke Break"
It's morning and I just got to school... I have a few minutes before work to go out for a cigarette and chill with Kellin before having to work. I meet him near the cafeteria and tell him I'm going out for a smoke. He asks if I could share it with him. I agree and we start to head outside, only for him to be pulled back into the cafeteria by my boss, Deb, to finish a task he'd forgotten on his early-morning rounds. I wait for a minute or two, then go outside to chitchat and await him. I delay lighting my smoke, afraid it will be finished by the time he joins us. When Crystal, seeing that I have not yet lit my smoke, offers me a lighter, I explain. Chris gives me a sideways look and says "You know he wouldn't do the same for you, right?" and I disagreed and everyone got into a small discussion about it. It was a little thing, but it bugged me for a while (especially since he almost always shares whatever cigarette he has with me, even if I have my own).
Exhibit B - "Time Apart"
The scene is Thursday, the day my mother got home from Jamaica. I'd been staying at Kellin's for about a week, with few problems or fights. Earlier in the day Brian had told me that he was picking Mama up from the airport and since I had no ride I'd just see her Friday. Over the course of the day, some things happened to irritate me, so Kellin and I weren't as close and cuddly as usual. When we got home for the evening, Kellin had to help his mom at the school. I had a headache, so I bowed out. A few hours passed and I was comfortable and chilling with Brandon and about to eat dinner when he got back, saying he might have to go back later. He wasn't hungry so he went downstairs to play video games. I had no desire to watch him play video games so I ate upstairs. After dinner Brandon invited me to do blades, so we started that and I expected Kellin to smell the pot and appear upstairs. But after a while and no Kellin, Brandon told me he'd gone back to help out his mom at the school. I was surprised he hadn't even said bye or anything, but figured we'd work things out when he got back.
It was just after ten, I think, when Brandon and I went to put on Fight Club and the phone rang. It was Kai, telling me that not only were he and Brian picking me up to go to the airport, but they'd be there in ten minutes. Eeeek! I scrambled together my purse and left, never to return (until the next day at least).
That was the story as I knew it until Friday night. That night Kellin confessed that Chris had called and Kellin had been irritated at me being mad at him and told him what was going on. Chris told him that we obviously needed time apart, and kindly volunteered his services for Kellin to lie to his brother and ditch out and go drive around and get weed on what should have been my last night out there. What turned out not even to be that much.
And he had the nerve to go "I got home and you weren't there..." when I saw him on Friday.
Oh yeah, and Chris sure must be a great guy to get girl advice from, considering how well he was doing with his girlfriend for the last few months.
Exhibit C - "Come on, boys only..."
Funny how every singly 'boys night', especially the ones where he goes AWOL, either start out with or include Chris in some way. Nights where he admits he wanted to do it with me to begin with but end up with me not being invited. How I used to go along everywhere, no problem, until I got back from Montreal and Chris and and Savannah started having problems. I suspect there's a little devil whispering in Kellin's ear, and his name starts with a C. Funny how all of a sudden I've been invited next weekend, when Savannah will also be going along for the first time in a while.
Oh, and I sure as hell haven't forgiven that boy for being the devil whispering in Kellin's ear about other things, either. One other thing in particular.
I have a feeling that whatever Chris is having a problem with, he wants Kellin to have a problem with, too. And a sneaking suspicion that he's jealous of my friendship with Michelle. *sigh* it's all so childish.
Anyways, I have to work tomorrow and I'm exhausted. Enough of my obsessing. It's bedtime.
Lah.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Little Note.
You know, speaking of the little ways we've changed on our trip... before, I didn't like talking on the phone with Kellin. Then again, I don't like talking on the phone with many people. Even Inga, I prefer to talk to for long periods of time only when we have a lot of things to catch up on. But now, without the casual intimacy of being together, when he called today we talked for a while, only hanging up when the boys got home. I think on of the reasons we never talked much on the phone is that his phonoe was in the middle of the living room, nowhere near a chair. Tonight, Kellin was downstairs in the basement, wrapped in a blanket lying on the couch. I was downstairs in the basement, also chilled. That's why I hung up when the boys came down. And plus when I told him I was gonna go, his response was 'Aw...', and he told me he'd call me back later. His downstairs really is like an apartment. And sometime this week, whether Mama likes it or not, I'm going to stay in that apartment with my boy.
Ah, love.
Lah.
Ah, love.
Lah.
A Trip And More Changes
I got back from being in Montreal for two weeks on Saturday. As usual, coming back was extremely difficult. What was different this time was that the actual leaving wasn't so hard. Usually I just don't want to leave Montreal... the culture, the place, and most of all teh life I have there. Now... that part isn't so bad. I know it's not my home. What I realized today is that what I can't stand about being home is the lack of freedom.
This time, my trip to Montreal wasn't as a drugged out kid looking to party. It was a time to see people that I know and love, and instead of participating in their life for two weeks, I brought them a piece of my life. I had to take responsibility for someone else as well as myself, and I had to organize my life: my time, my attention, my money... I was responsible for both the material things and the spiritual things. In a way, this was the first time I went to Montreal as an adult, with another adult.
But suddenly I'm back here. And I'm a kid again. Not only am I a kid, but I'm a city kid in the middle of the country. In Montreal, I had to plan out our time. Not all with fun activities; 'business' and non-leisure activities were included. Bottom line though, was that I was always doing something. At the end of the day, I looked forward to going home and just chilling with the people I love. Which included my boyfriend.
An important thing that I realized on the trip is that I truly love my boyfriend. Not just in the romantic, sappy way... but also in the everyday comforts, the little fights and discussions. Sharing a life, not just part of a life. And I spent two weeks sharing my life with Kellin. No, we weren't joined at the hip, but at the end of the day we always ended up home with each other.
I expected it to be weird when we got back and went back to separate existences. I didn't expect it to actually hurt. I found out just how much it hurts when my cynical mother told that no, I couldn't stay at his place. "No, you've been away enough already." Nice words, if my presence had actually been missed more. Let's face it, I didn't spend all that much time at home before I left, and since I got back my family hasn't exactly been jumping to spend time with me. It's actually like I never left at all. What's more, we don't do anything at my house. Yes, we smoke and talk and laugh. We watch movies and a TV series or two. But just lying around gets old fast, especially when you're used to moving around, seeing people and doing things. That's why I like taking public transportation. It's not just getting in a car and sitting around til you get somewhere, and then leaving and sitting around some more until you get somewhere else. It's dynamic. You have to pay attention and walk and change directions.
Maybe it'll be different when I'm the one driving, but until then... I just can't stand doing nothing. And especially not huge chunks of time spent going to work, and then coming home and doing nothing until I pass out early, and then going to work again the next morning, and so on and so on. Before I went to Montreal, I was tired all the time, so much so that it worried my mother. She thinks it's because of working in the cafeteria and having no mental stimulation. That's not true... I went to school for many years with very little mental stimulation, without that effect. And I also realized that when I went over to Kellin's, or stayed out late doing things, I rarely got tired. The entire time I was in Montreal, I'd go to bed at midnight, easy. Sure, I get tired during all of these things, but not the bone-deep weariness that just won't let me stay awake any longer.
After my mother delivered her demand for me to come home, I got angry. I get irritated often, but it's been a very long time since I was truly angry, the kind of angry that washes out everything else and turns the world red. A kind of impotent rage, that makes you want to strike out at everything, especially the unfairness that caused the anger. Why was I so mad? Because, for one, she had that slightly petulant tone that told me that she was saying no just for the sake of saying no. She told me that there was shit for me to do at home. Sure, fair enough. But whenever she uses that excuse, often when I ask her exactly what, she either avoids replying or tells me some variant of either pulling my weight around the house or getting my shit together. Tonight, it was getting my shit together. Again, fair enough. The only problem is, whenever I do come home, expecting to be put to work--a prospect which, incidentally, is a an absolutely marvelous motivator for going home--I end up doing... guess what? Nothing! Sitting around, reading or watching a movie/TV, and passing out around 10 or 10 30 when I can't keep my eyes open anymore.
I think that my body gets into that roundabout, bored mode, it assumes it's downtime and time to rest and tries to shut down. And of course, since it always gets into that mode when I'm home with my mother, she assumes that's how I always am. And she also seems to assume that I do absolutely nothing useful with my life.
And all of this culminated into today, where for the first time in months I had that uncontrollable desire to leave, to be on my own and responsible for myself. I don't think I've felt that feeling that strongly since my father left. I just felt like telling my mother that as long as she keeps saying no, I'm going to keep asking. And one day, I won't listen to her 'no'. And what's she going to do then? Short of threatening me and/or physically overpowering me, the only thing that allows her to make demands and orders is my respect for her, and my desire to live in a harmonious home. One that I'd like to be able to go back to, but not one that I'm chained to and required to be at all the time simply because it's my home.
It doesn't help that Mama is bitter. Not as bitter as she used to be, but bitter all the same. And just because I don't believe that a person should be a slave to love or any emotion, and just because I'm also cynical of 'crushes' and 'boyfriends' and silly girls, doesn't mean that I don't believe in love. Just because I might indulge in some gooey moments, doesn't mean that I think love is a sappy happily-ever-after path strewn with flowers. Which is why I was so surprised to find it so hard to go home alone and sleep alone, even after only two weeks living together and three days apart. Like I said, it's the little comforts. And I don't agree at all with Mama's proclamation that it's always nice to sleep alone after sharing a tiny bed with someone for two weeks. Quite the opposite. I find it horrible. I absolutely love sleeping with another person, whether it's Blair or Kellin. It's someone to be close to and share the space with... someone to wake up to in the morning.
*sigh* Now I feel even lonelier and even more sad to be here alone.
Seeing me crying tugged at Kellin's heartstrings a bit, I think. He told me not to worry, he'd come over Thursday. That soon we'd actually live together and it wouldn't matter. That he'd call me tonight. I think he understood that I wasn't only crying because I couldn't spend the night with him though, because after telling me those things he shut up and just held me, occasionally resting his head on my hair or stroking my waist.
I was crying for the loss of freedom, and the loss of responsibility. For the lack of trust and lack of understanding. For being so angry for the first time in so long, and for feeling that horrible feeling of just wanting to escape but being trapped. I was crying because I didn't want to go home. And finally I was crying just because I hurt. It's also been a long time, although not so long, that my family has truly hurt me, enough that I just wanted to curl up into a ball and bawl. I also picked that moment to remember the poetry I used to write when I hurt.
All I'll ever want in my darkest hour
Is someone to hold me as I cry
Someone to tell me, "Stop being shy".
And I realized that I had that person. Well, I have and have had a couple of people to hold me, people that I meshed with, but he was the person I had been searching for. And whenever I think that no, I'm just being silly, I'm too attached, whatever, another part of my brain says "Why can't it be real?" If the Universe can provide me anything, if only I ask for it in the right way and am grateful for it, then why not Kellin? I did ask for him. In fact, now that I look back I realize that I asked for him quite specifically. He may not be where my life is going to end, but for this time and hopefully for a while into the future, he is real and right for me and my needs. And I think that he asked for me, too. And I think that I'm what he needs, also.
Is that why it hurts so much to be separated from him uselessly? If there's a legitimate reason, it'll still bug me, but not deep down. This not only bugged me, it hurt. In fact, all I could think was this shouldn't be so hard. This shouldn't be so hard.
Ugh.
Lah.
This time, my trip to Montreal wasn't as a drugged out kid looking to party. It was a time to see people that I know and love, and instead of participating in their life for two weeks, I brought them a piece of my life. I had to take responsibility for someone else as well as myself, and I had to organize my life: my time, my attention, my money... I was responsible for both the material things and the spiritual things. In a way, this was the first time I went to Montreal as an adult, with another adult.
But suddenly I'm back here. And I'm a kid again. Not only am I a kid, but I'm a city kid in the middle of the country. In Montreal, I had to plan out our time. Not all with fun activities; 'business' and non-leisure activities were included. Bottom line though, was that I was always doing something. At the end of the day, I looked forward to going home and just chilling with the people I love. Which included my boyfriend.
An important thing that I realized on the trip is that I truly love my boyfriend. Not just in the romantic, sappy way... but also in the everyday comforts, the little fights and discussions. Sharing a life, not just part of a life. And I spent two weeks sharing my life with Kellin. No, we weren't joined at the hip, but at the end of the day we always ended up home with each other.
I expected it to be weird when we got back and went back to separate existences. I didn't expect it to actually hurt. I found out just how much it hurts when my cynical mother told that no, I couldn't stay at his place. "No, you've been away enough already." Nice words, if my presence had actually been missed more. Let's face it, I didn't spend all that much time at home before I left, and since I got back my family hasn't exactly been jumping to spend time with me. It's actually like I never left at all. What's more, we don't do anything at my house. Yes, we smoke and talk and laugh. We watch movies and a TV series or two. But just lying around gets old fast, especially when you're used to moving around, seeing people and doing things. That's why I like taking public transportation. It's not just getting in a car and sitting around til you get somewhere, and then leaving and sitting around some more until you get somewhere else. It's dynamic. You have to pay attention and walk and change directions.
Maybe it'll be different when I'm the one driving, but until then... I just can't stand doing nothing. And especially not huge chunks of time spent going to work, and then coming home and doing nothing until I pass out early, and then going to work again the next morning, and so on and so on. Before I went to Montreal, I was tired all the time, so much so that it worried my mother. She thinks it's because of working in the cafeteria and having no mental stimulation. That's not true... I went to school for many years with very little mental stimulation, without that effect. And I also realized that when I went over to Kellin's, or stayed out late doing things, I rarely got tired. The entire time I was in Montreal, I'd go to bed at midnight, easy. Sure, I get tired during all of these things, but not the bone-deep weariness that just won't let me stay awake any longer.
After my mother delivered her demand for me to come home, I got angry. I get irritated often, but it's been a very long time since I was truly angry, the kind of angry that washes out everything else and turns the world red. A kind of impotent rage, that makes you want to strike out at everything, especially the unfairness that caused the anger. Why was I so mad? Because, for one, she had that slightly petulant tone that told me that she was saying no just for the sake of saying no. She told me that there was shit for me to do at home. Sure, fair enough. But whenever she uses that excuse, often when I ask her exactly what, she either avoids replying or tells me some variant of either pulling my weight around the house or getting my shit together. Tonight, it was getting my shit together. Again, fair enough. The only problem is, whenever I do come home, expecting to be put to work--a prospect which, incidentally, is a an absolutely marvelous motivator for going home--I end up doing... guess what? Nothing! Sitting around, reading or watching a movie/TV, and passing out around 10 or 10 30 when I can't keep my eyes open anymore.
I think that my body gets into that roundabout, bored mode, it assumes it's downtime and time to rest and tries to shut down. And of course, since it always gets into that mode when I'm home with my mother, she assumes that's how I always am. And she also seems to assume that I do absolutely nothing useful with my life.
And all of this culminated into today, where for the first time in months I had that uncontrollable desire to leave, to be on my own and responsible for myself. I don't think I've felt that feeling that strongly since my father left. I just felt like telling my mother that as long as she keeps saying no, I'm going to keep asking. And one day, I won't listen to her 'no'. And what's she going to do then? Short of threatening me and/or physically overpowering me, the only thing that allows her to make demands and orders is my respect for her, and my desire to live in a harmonious home. One that I'd like to be able to go back to, but not one that I'm chained to and required to be at all the time simply because it's my home.
It doesn't help that Mama is bitter. Not as bitter as she used to be, but bitter all the same. And just because I don't believe that a person should be a slave to love or any emotion, and just because I'm also cynical of 'crushes' and 'boyfriends' and silly girls, doesn't mean that I don't believe in love. Just because I might indulge in some gooey moments, doesn't mean that I think love is a sappy happily-ever-after path strewn with flowers. Which is why I was so surprised to find it so hard to go home alone and sleep alone, even after only two weeks living together and three days apart. Like I said, it's the little comforts. And I don't agree at all with Mama's proclamation that it's always nice to sleep alone after sharing a tiny bed with someone for two weeks. Quite the opposite. I find it horrible. I absolutely love sleeping with another person, whether it's Blair or Kellin. It's someone to be close to and share the space with... someone to wake up to in the morning.
*sigh* Now I feel even lonelier and even more sad to be here alone.
Seeing me crying tugged at Kellin's heartstrings a bit, I think. He told me not to worry, he'd come over Thursday. That soon we'd actually live together and it wouldn't matter. That he'd call me tonight. I think he understood that I wasn't only crying because I couldn't spend the night with him though, because after telling me those things he shut up and just held me, occasionally resting his head on my hair or stroking my waist.
I was crying for the loss of freedom, and the loss of responsibility. For the lack of trust and lack of understanding. For being so angry for the first time in so long, and for feeling that horrible feeling of just wanting to escape but being trapped. I was crying because I didn't want to go home. And finally I was crying just because I hurt. It's also been a long time, although not so long, that my family has truly hurt me, enough that I just wanted to curl up into a ball and bawl. I also picked that moment to remember the poetry I used to write when I hurt.
All I'll ever want in my darkest hour
Is someone to hold me as I cry
Someone to tell me, "Stop being shy".
And I realized that I had that person. Well, I have and have had a couple of people to hold me, people that I meshed with, but he was the person I had been searching for. And whenever I think that no, I'm just being silly, I'm too attached, whatever, another part of my brain says "Why can't it be real?" If the Universe can provide me anything, if only I ask for it in the right way and am grateful for it, then why not Kellin? I did ask for him. In fact, now that I look back I realize that I asked for him quite specifically. He may not be where my life is going to end, but for this time and hopefully for a while into the future, he is real and right for me and my needs. And I think that he asked for me, too. And I think that I'm what he needs, also.
Is that why it hurts so much to be separated from him uselessly? If there's a legitimate reason, it'll still bug me, but not deep down. This not only bugged me, it hurt. In fact, all I could think was this shouldn't be so hard. This shouldn't be so hard.
Ugh.
Lah.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Wishes and Wonders
Just read Blairbear's blog. Catching up on months of missage.
No wonder she thought I knew.
Part of me feels like I failed her, let her down, didn't care enough to catch it. Wrapped up in my life, my boyfriend, and my own petty problems while my friend, the one that I consider as much a part of my heart as anything, was going through hell.
The other part says that it's as much her fault as mine.
And another part of me is just scared.
I don't want to be there. I don't want to have to make those hard decisions.
I know the universe doesn't listen to the 'don't's, but there it is.
Let's put it another way.
I want to be happy, healthy, and whole. Then again, those things and being pregnant aren't mutually exclusive, so how do I put my wish out to the universe in the right way?
It's a little bit different than wishing to be succesful at a show, after all.
How about this?
I want to know. I want to be aware of my body. I would like to be responsible and in control of my reproduction.
So mote it be.
And once you wish it, you can't just forget about it. You have to go out and do something about it, and trust the Universe to do the rest.
And I have. I've been careful. I don't sleep around. I've always protected myself. And I continue to be careful, because I wanted to have that modicum of certainty.
Maybe that wasn't enough.
But hey. I've done all that I can on my part for now, and the rest is up to the Universe.
Whatever will come, will come. And I'll just have to deal with it when it does.
Lah.
No wonder she thought I knew.
Part of me feels like I failed her, let her down, didn't care enough to catch it. Wrapped up in my life, my boyfriend, and my own petty problems while my friend, the one that I consider as much a part of my heart as anything, was going through hell.
The other part says that it's as much her fault as mine.
And another part of me is just scared.
I don't want to be there. I don't want to have to make those hard decisions.
I know the universe doesn't listen to the 'don't's, but there it is.
Let's put it another way.
I want to be happy, healthy, and whole. Then again, those things and being pregnant aren't mutually exclusive, so how do I put my wish out to the universe in the right way?
It's a little bit different than wishing to be succesful at a show, after all.
How about this?
I want to know. I want to be aware of my body. I would like to be responsible and in control of my reproduction.
So mote it be.
And once you wish it, you can't just forget about it. You have to go out and do something about it, and trust the Universe to do the rest.
And I have. I've been careful. I don't sleep around. I've always protected myself. And I continue to be careful, because I wanted to have that modicum of certainty.
Maybe that wasn't enough.
But hey. I've done all that I can on my part for now, and the rest is up to the Universe.
Whatever will come, will come. And I'll just have to deal with it when it does.
Lah.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
A New Era
I just happened to read over my last post. How ironic. That was exactly one week ago... and as of tomorrow, I am officially withdrawn from Springbank Community High School.
Now how did this come to be, you ask? After worrying about taking more classes and special projects and everything else in the universe to do with school, the end came so utterly randomly.
Let's go back to earlier today.
I spent the first two periods getting everything together for my job in the cafeteria. For some reason (maybe St. Vally's Day yesterday scrambled my brains), I thought I had English all afternoon instead of in the morning, and by the time I figured it out it was kinda too late... Who knew it would end up having been my last English class? *sniffle*
So instead I used the morning to submit all my hours, verify the official (meaning paid) version of my hours with my boss, and try to get my direct deposit and health insurance stuff settled. Then I worked in there until lunch, and then I went out with Kellin and talked to Ingoutch for a bit. 'Twas lovely (though the convo lasted all of a minute), and I can't wait to go see her in March.
So yes. Came back in, realized I had no class all afternoon, and failed to get in touch with Mama to go home. So I went back into the caf to help Kellin's dear Mama get out early, and in return (or... you know... just because she's Michelle...) she told me to come home with her and Kellin and call Mama from there. We were just out the door when I realized I'd forgotten to give Christian something to give to Kai. Michelle told me to run like the wind, but I couldn't find Christian anywhere. I did, however, see Keebee and Blair and thrust it into their hands, already worried I was taking too long. I was going out the door once again when el principal cornered me and insisted I go talk to him.
Yes, I told him Michelle was waiting with the car already running.
No, he didn't care.
Given the circumstances (and my naturally paranoid nature), I thought I was in deep shit. So imagine my surprise when he leads me to his office, sits down at his desk, and starts fiddling with some papers. Then he told me that I was ready for my diploma. I wasn't sure what exactly he meant at first, but it soon became clear what his goal was.
Then again, "I think it would be better for everyone if you were to withdraw from the school" doesn't leave much room for interpretation.
He talked at me for a while, outlining all the reasons why I should get the fuck out of his school, and I was surprised to learn that underneath all the bull, the proposition actually made sense. I told him that I couldn't make a decision without talking to my dear Mama and pointed out one last time that I was pressed for time. Then I booked it out to Michelle's car. Neither she nor Kellin was mad once I told them what happened. And both thought about it and agreed it was a definite option. When I talked to Mum a little later, she also agreed. She also informed me that we were going to Edmonton early Saturday morning, until Wednesday.
It was Thursday afternoon.
Way to give warning.
Although it's not like she kept it a secret... I just thought it was sometime during next week. I had plans for the weekend... And I hate trade shows, especially when I'm broke... I'm not too fond of Edmonton, either....
*sigh* But that's off-topic.
Since Mama refused to pick me up, I got a ride back to the school to take the bus. First, I got my final exam mark back (after wandering aimlessly awhile, thinking about my decision to 'withdraw'). Eighty-two, whee. Same as my class mark, I think. Told a few people about 'my decision'. Then, I went back to Mr. Davidson. When I told him 'my decision', he started smiling. He didn't hesitate to assure me that I was welcome to visit the school, welcome to continue working in the caf, and welcome to go to grad in May, of course. He handed me the (surprisingly simple) withdrawal form and told me to get my teachers to fill out the bottom part so Mama could get a refund on my school fees. Then he hustled me out of his office by the main office doors, and headed back into his office.
Or so I thought. When I turned to go down the hall I saw him leaving his office by its own separate door, grinning widely and whistling.
I kid you not.
And I will bet you every book that I own and all my money that some form of "One down!" crossed his mind as he handed me that form and led me out of that office.
The whole thing was so weird. He interspersed compliments with negative implications about my moral character (yeah, I'm proud of that wording). And although he was sickly sweet about the entire thing (even while insultiong me), I still find him astonishingly transparent. Still, the whole thing (and such a sudden thing) left me feeling kinda lost, so I wandered a bit more before going to see Mr. Dearden.
Luckily, his class was working on their own, so I was free to speak to him in peace. He didn't hear me knock or come in, and when he looked up and saw me, he gave me an altogether different smile from Davidson's. When he asked where I'd been, I just handed him the withdrawal form. He couldn't believe it, especially when I told him about Davidson's role in my decision to withdraw. He was a lot madder than I'd been. I'd just been kinda bemused until then. But seeing him get mad for my sake just made me sad. Not about my decision to withdraw, but just about the admin's general attitude. Mr. Dearden and I had a hug and a moment, and I asked and was told that I could come sit in on classes whenever I want.
Dearden wasn't the only one pissed off. Blair was ready to gun down Mr. Davidson. Kai's first response was "what an asshole", as was Brandon's. But hey. Not only was it my final decision, but I don't really care about Davidson. Guess what? I don't have to deal with him anymore. Plus they can't suspend me or cuss me out for smoking. At least not off of school property.
It's just so insane, though. One moment I was looking at five more months of school at least, and the next I was as close to done as I'll be until tomorrow when the final signature goes on that piece of paper. Tomorrow. And tomorrow is also the last day before school goes underground for Suicide Week, so it's gonna be even more unreal when the vacation week finishes.
Eeek.
And when I talked to Kellin a few hours ago, he mentioned something that had also crossed my mind at some point today. He told me that since I decided to drop out (so much more... base... than 'withdraw', no?), he really wants to do the same. Not for some stupid love thing, of course. But I know for a fact that before we started talking and eventually dating, he was barely going to class. But after we started dating, there was more of a reason to go to school. I know what he means. after we got serious, I rarely missed school. Actually going to class was a different story, of course, but between seeing Kellin and working in the caf, I was usually somewhere in the building.
But even with that small motivation, since the semester's started Kellin's been getting a majour case of the same itch I've had since the beginning of last year. I can count on one hand the number of times he's gone to a full day of classes. I think I can count it on one or two fingers, actually. And I'm sure the fact that he won't be able to graduate this year has something to do with it. I mean, what's the point of going to class when you know that the credits won't be doing you any good? Especially classes that were randomly assigned to you.
He told me he'd really miss seeing me at school.
Although I will be there at least sometime each day to work in the caf.
But now, back to (non-school related) work.
Lah.
Now how did this come to be, you ask? After worrying about taking more classes and special projects and everything else in the universe to do with school, the end came so utterly randomly.
Let's go back to earlier today.
I spent the first two periods getting everything together for my job in the cafeteria. For some reason (maybe St. Vally's Day yesterday scrambled my brains), I thought I had English all afternoon instead of in the morning, and by the time I figured it out it was kinda too late... Who knew it would end up having been my last English class? *sniffle*
So instead I used the morning to submit all my hours, verify the official (meaning paid) version of my hours with my boss, and try to get my direct deposit and health insurance stuff settled. Then I worked in there until lunch, and then I went out with Kellin and talked to Ingoutch for a bit. 'Twas lovely (though the convo lasted all of a minute), and I can't wait to go see her in March.
So yes. Came back in, realized I had no class all afternoon, and failed to get in touch with Mama to go home. So I went back into the caf to help Kellin's dear Mama get out early, and in return (or... you know... just because she's Michelle...) she told me to come home with her and Kellin and call Mama from there. We were just out the door when I realized I'd forgotten to give Christian something to give to Kai. Michelle told me to run like the wind, but I couldn't find Christian anywhere. I did, however, see Keebee and Blair and thrust it into their hands, already worried I was taking too long. I was going out the door once again when el principal cornered me and insisted I go talk to him.
Yes, I told him Michelle was waiting with the car already running.
No, he didn't care.
Given the circumstances (and my naturally paranoid nature), I thought I was in deep shit. So imagine my surprise when he leads me to his office, sits down at his desk, and starts fiddling with some papers. Then he told me that I was ready for my diploma. I wasn't sure what exactly he meant at first, but it soon became clear what his goal was.
Then again, "I think it would be better for everyone if you were to withdraw from the school" doesn't leave much room for interpretation.
He talked at me for a while, outlining all the reasons why I should get the fuck out of his school, and I was surprised to learn that underneath all the bull, the proposition actually made sense. I told him that I couldn't make a decision without talking to my dear Mama and pointed out one last time that I was pressed for time. Then I booked it out to Michelle's car. Neither she nor Kellin was mad once I told them what happened. And both thought about it and agreed it was a definite option. When I talked to Mum a little later, she also agreed. She also informed me that we were going to Edmonton early Saturday morning, until Wednesday.
It was Thursday afternoon.
Way to give warning.
Although it's not like she kept it a secret... I just thought it was sometime during next week. I had plans for the weekend... And I hate trade shows, especially when I'm broke... I'm not too fond of Edmonton, either....
*sigh* But that's off-topic.
Since Mama refused to pick me up, I got a ride back to the school to take the bus. First, I got my final exam mark back (after wandering aimlessly awhile, thinking about my decision to 'withdraw'). Eighty-two, whee. Same as my class mark, I think. Told a few people about 'my decision'. Then, I went back to Mr. Davidson. When I told him 'my decision', he started smiling. He didn't hesitate to assure me that I was welcome to visit the school, welcome to continue working in the caf, and welcome to go to grad in May, of course. He handed me the (surprisingly simple) withdrawal form and told me to get my teachers to fill out the bottom part so Mama could get a refund on my school fees. Then he hustled me out of his office by the main office doors, and headed back into his office.
Or so I thought. When I turned to go down the hall I saw him leaving his office by its own separate door, grinning widely and whistling.
I kid you not.
And I will bet you every book that I own and all my money that some form of "One down!" crossed his mind as he handed me that form and led me out of that office.
The whole thing was so weird. He interspersed compliments with negative implications about my moral character (yeah, I'm proud of that wording). And although he was sickly sweet about the entire thing (even while insultiong me), I still find him astonishingly transparent. Still, the whole thing (and such a sudden thing) left me feeling kinda lost, so I wandered a bit more before going to see Mr. Dearden.
Luckily, his class was working on their own, so I was free to speak to him in peace. He didn't hear me knock or come in, and when he looked up and saw me, he gave me an altogether different smile from Davidson's. When he asked where I'd been, I just handed him the withdrawal form. He couldn't believe it, especially when I told him about Davidson's role in my decision to withdraw. He was a lot madder than I'd been. I'd just been kinda bemused until then. But seeing him get mad for my sake just made me sad. Not about my decision to withdraw, but just about the admin's general attitude. Mr. Dearden and I had a hug and a moment, and I asked and was told that I could come sit in on classes whenever I want.
Dearden wasn't the only one pissed off. Blair was ready to gun down Mr. Davidson. Kai's first response was "what an asshole", as was Brandon's. But hey. Not only was it my final decision, but I don't really care about Davidson. Guess what? I don't have to deal with him anymore. Plus they can't suspend me or cuss me out for smoking. At least not off of school property.
It's just so insane, though. One moment I was looking at five more months of school at least, and the next I was as close to done as I'll be until tomorrow when the final signature goes on that piece of paper. Tomorrow. And tomorrow is also the last day before school goes underground for Suicide Week, so it's gonna be even more unreal when the vacation week finishes.
Eeek.
And when I talked to Kellin a few hours ago, he mentioned something that had also crossed my mind at some point today. He told me that since I decided to drop out (so much more... base... than 'withdraw', no?), he really wants to do the same. Not for some stupid love thing, of course. But I know for a fact that before we started talking and eventually dating, he was barely going to class. But after we started dating, there was more of a reason to go to school. I know what he means. after we got serious, I rarely missed school. Actually going to class was a different story, of course, but between seeing Kellin and working in the caf, I was usually somewhere in the building.
But even with that small motivation, since the semester's started Kellin's been getting a majour case of the same itch I've had since the beginning of last year. I can count on one hand the number of times he's gone to a full day of classes. I think I can count it on one or two fingers, actually. And I'm sure the fact that he won't be able to graduate this year has something to do with it. I mean, what's the point of going to class when you know that the credits won't be doing you any good? Especially classes that were randomly assigned to you.
He told me he'd really miss seeing me at school.
Although I will be there at least sometime each day to work in the caf.
But now, back to (non-school related) work.
Lah.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Thursday's Child Has Far To Go
As the familiar setting of the misty place coalesces around the Weaver, a fairy tale voice can be heard singing.
Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace
Wednesday's child is one of woe
Thursday's child has far to go
Friday's child is honest and giving
Saturday's child works hard for his living
And the child that is born on Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.
As the last of the nursery rhyme fades, a scene appears in the mist. At first, it's hard to distinguish anything but vague images. Then it becomes apparent that the image of a field is hard to distinguish because there's an icy fog the same colour as the mist blanketing everything. A light, drifting snowfall further obscures things, so that the final image depicts a hazy outdoor scene of a field, fenced in some area by a simple low wooden rail. The occasional run down shack or tree appears from out of the mist, but any further than ten feet in the distance before everything is swallowed by the swirling grey-white.
Weaver: This is my world right now.
Voice: Your own personal world, or Calgary?
Weaver: Well, no Calgary, really. It's more in the country where I live. Isn't it gorgeous?
Voice: Gorgeous to look at, maybe. It doesn't look like it would be fun to drive in.
Weaver: I never said it was. And it's horribly cold, terribly unpleasant, unbelievably slippery, and absolutely gorgeous. I can slide on cement with my combat boots on. Better than on the ice, actually. And the school keeps refusing to close for a snow day, so I've been out and about in it for a while.
Voice: So you're still in school, eh?
Weaver: Yeah... Mostly for English class, which is what I'm in right now. Although I'm lost in the project we're doing, so I will devote my weekend to doing that and instead took this moment to describe the way the weather is now, before I forget it. Unfortunately, I can't properly enjoy the beauty because my uterus feels like it's about to explode. Also, I'm hungry.
Voice: Bitchy, bitchy...
Weaver: Hey. You've never had PMS so don't get on my case about it. At least I'm not teary-eyed anymore. And with my period set to drop any second like some kind of suspected terrorist attack, at least I got to spend some time with Kellin last night before the big sploosh. Ugh... I hate this curse of womanhood sometimes.
Voice: Especially since you have no intention of getting pregnant anytime soon.
Weaver: EXACTLY! Which is why I'd like to go on the pill. Stupid condoms and stupid periods...
Bahahaha... Mr Dearden just stood on his head (I kid you not) and screamed that periods and commas go "OUTSIDE THE GODDAMNED QUOTATION MARKS!!!". Like that. He started off with "This is a very special day... this day marks the ten billionth time that I've corrected someone's paper and have them not understand that the punctuation goes outside the quotation marks. Do I have to stand on my head... *attempts several times before succeeding* and tell you guys... *Continues as mentioned above*
As we just kill ourselves laughing.
Especially when he came down and his head was redder than a tomato for his efforts.
Whee...
Lah.
Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace
Wednesday's child is one of woe
Thursday's child has far to go
Friday's child is honest and giving
Saturday's child works hard for his living
And the child that is born on Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.
As the last of the nursery rhyme fades, a scene appears in the mist. At first, it's hard to distinguish anything but vague images. Then it becomes apparent that the image of a field is hard to distinguish because there's an icy fog the same colour as the mist blanketing everything. A light, drifting snowfall further obscures things, so that the final image depicts a hazy outdoor scene of a field, fenced in some area by a simple low wooden rail. The occasional run down shack or tree appears from out of the mist, but any further than ten feet in the distance before everything is swallowed by the swirling grey-white.
Weaver: This is my world right now.
Voice: Your own personal world, or Calgary?
Weaver: Well, no Calgary, really. It's more in the country where I live. Isn't it gorgeous?
Voice: Gorgeous to look at, maybe. It doesn't look like it would be fun to drive in.
Weaver: I never said it was. And it's horribly cold, terribly unpleasant, unbelievably slippery, and absolutely gorgeous. I can slide on cement with my combat boots on. Better than on the ice, actually. And the school keeps refusing to close for a snow day, so I've been out and about in it for a while.
Voice: So you're still in school, eh?
Weaver: Yeah... Mostly for English class, which is what I'm in right now. Although I'm lost in the project we're doing, so I will devote my weekend to doing that and instead took this moment to describe the way the weather is now, before I forget it. Unfortunately, I can't properly enjoy the beauty because my uterus feels like it's about to explode. Also, I'm hungry.
Voice: Bitchy, bitchy...
Weaver: Hey. You've never had PMS so don't get on my case about it. At least I'm not teary-eyed anymore. And with my period set to drop any second like some kind of suspected terrorist attack, at least I got to spend some time with Kellin last night before the big sploosh. Ugh... I hate this curse of womanhood sometimes.
Voice: Especially since you have no intention of getting pregnant anytime soon.
Weaver: EXACTLY! Which is why I'd like to go on the pill. Stupid condoms and stupid periods...
Bahahaha... Mr Dearden just stood on his head (I kid you not) and screamed that periods and commas go "OUTSIDE THE GODDAMNED QUOTATION MARKS!!!". Like that. He started off with "This is a very special day... this day marks the ten billionth time that I've corrected someone's paper and have them not understand that the punctuation goes outside the quotation marks. Do I have to stand on my head... *attempts several times before succeeding* and tell you guys... *Continues as mentioned above*
As we just kill ourselves laughing.
Especially when he came down and his head was redder than a tomato for his efforts.
Whee...
Lah.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Blessed.
Well, I just got home from going out to the city with my mother. Now, she's driving Kai to work.
And I thought I'd just take this time, before she gets back and I wander upstairs to help her with her jewellery, to say...
Fuck, I'm so blessed.
Really, I have a great life. Despite living here in Joy-ville, I managed to find a boyfriend who's not only (mostly) normal, but that I love and who loves me. My family gets along great with his, and I get along great with his family.
And speaking of families... I have an amazing mother who accepts me for who I am, and whom I can talk to about just about anything and that I can share my life with... that is, she actually knows what's going on in my life and is okay with it. My brother, although he can be an enormous asshole, is also very cool, and I wouldn't trade him in for any of my friend's younger siblings.
I was blessed with both intelligence and street smarts, and I am strong enough and honest enough with myself to accept my faults, and love myself for them. What's more, I accept and love my friends for and despite all of their faults.
I now have four lovely pets. All four have funky and interesting personalities. All four are highly intelligent, and are more parts of the family than simply pets. For the past several years, I've craved and craved my own familiar, and now I have two cats that I have to care for and that share my life intimately. Whether I'm gone for a day or for an hour, I know that they won't abandon me or forget that I exist. I'm lucky enough to have the responsibility to name them, feed them, and love them.
I have my own space, that I can decorate and accessorize as I please. I have the freedom to (mostly) make my own decisions, while still retaining the security of knowing that I have a home and family to return to, whenever or wherever.
Hell, as long as we're talking about being blessed, let's look at the 'selfish' things! I'm gorgeous! I've got blood from the Carribean, I've got Native blood... hell, I've even got a bit of European blood thrown in there. On top of having natural looks, I've lost weight and my face has cleared up. How many people can say that, especially in the weeks after Christmas?
I'm even grateful for my psycho father, and for moving here.
Mama's home, so I'm going to go sit with her and watch a movie, maybe light up. Hey, this is probably one of the shortest times I've ever spent writing a full entry... but I'm glad I took the ten minutes out of my day to write this, because everyone is blessed, not just me... and more people need to sit down and just spend a few minutes thinking about their blessings. That's the road to happiness, truly.
And I thought I'd just take this time, before she gets back and I wander upstairs to help her with her jewellery, to say...
Fuck, I'm so blessed.
Really, I have a great life. Despite living here in Joy-ville, I managed to find a boyfriend who's not only (mostly) normal, but that I love and who loves me. My family gets along great with his, and I get along great with his family.
And speaking of families... I have an amazing mother who accepts me for who I am, and whom I can talk to about just about anything and that I can share my life with... that is, she actually knows what's going on in my life and is okay with it. My brother, although he can be an enormous asshole, is also very cool, and I wouldn't trade him in for any of my friend's younger siblings.
I was blessed with both intelligence and street smarts, and I am strong enough and honest enough with myself to accept my faults, and love myself for them. What's more, I accept and love my friends for and despite all of their faults.
I now have four lovely pets. All four have funky and interesting personalities. All four are highly intelligent, and are more parts of the family than simply pets. For the past several years, I've craved and craved my own familiar, and now I have two cats that I have to care for and that share my life intimately. Whether I'm gone for a day or for an hour, I know that they won't abandon me or forget that I exist. I'm lucky enough to have the responsibility to name them, feed them, and love them.
I have my own space, that I can decorate and accessorize as I please. I have the freedom to (mostly) make my own decisions, while still retaining the security of knowing that I have a home and family to return to, whenever or wherever.
Hell, as long as we're talking about being blessed, let's look at the 'selfish' things! I'm gorgeous! I've got blood from the Carribean, I've got Native blood... hell, I've even got a bit of European blood thrown in there. On top of having natural looks, I've lost weight and my face has cleared up. How many people can say that, especially in the weeks after Christmas?
I'm even grateful for my psycho father, and for moving here.
Mama's home, so I'm going to go sit with her and watch a movie, maybe light up. Hey, this is probably one of the shortest times I've ever spent writing a full entry... but I'm glad I took the ten minutes out of my day to write this, because everyone is blessed, not just me... and more people need to sit down and just spend a few minutes thinking about their blessings. That's the road to happiness, truly.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
A Day In The Life
As I lay here on the couch, let's recap over the day, shall we?
We begin in the living room, lying around watching Diary of a Mad Black Woman while Mama makes chicken wings for dinner later. Brian randomly demands for Mum to drive him an hour and a bit away to High River. They leave, I finish the movie (that Brian put on). Kai wakes up, we finish the movie together, blah blah blah.
Kai's Xbox 360 broke, so he actually left the house today, and chilled with the X. Kellin was supposed to come over, but he got a call from his lawyer and they may be pressing more charges against him (three months after the fact, whee...) so he cancelled. We're drinking spiked juice and smoking the last of our smoke when I get a call from Kellin, saying that Chris, Chris' girlfriend (a lovely girl who's the only other darkish chick in the Creek), Adam (who's Egyptian and looks like he's 25) and him would be over the pick up the bong Kai made him out of a 40 of Appleton Rum in a few minutes.
I forgot to mention Christian. He and Kai drove back over here from Christian's down the street. Christian didn't want to put on a coat so he put on his bathrobe instead. And hasn't taken it off, so he's been wandering around our house like Hugh Hefner.
And this was only the early part of the evening. I haven't even mentioned when Adam died on the Waterfall. It was like in Beerfest when the guy gets totally wasted and just kinda stumbles around after the others. And don't even get me started on that Waterfall...
I love my life. Truly.
And I love my boyfriend.
Muah.
We begin in the living room, lying around watching Diary of a Mad Black Woman while Mama makes chicken wings for dinner later. Brian randomly demands for Mum to drive him an hour and a bit away to High River. They leave, I finish the movie (that Brian put on). Kai wakes up, we finish the movie together, blah blah blah.
Kai's Xbox 360 broke, so he actually left the house today, and chilled with the X. Kellin was supposed to come over, but he got a call from his lawyer and they may be pressing more charges against him (three months after the fact, whee...) so he cancelled. We're drinking spiked juice and smoking the last of our smoke when I get a call from Kellin, saying that Chris, Chris' girlfriend (a lovely girl who's the only other darkish chick in the Creek), Adam (who's Egyptian and looks like he's 25) and him would be over the pick up the bong Kai made him out of a 40 of Appleton Rum in a few minutes.
I forgot to mention Christian. He and Kai drove back over here from Christian's down the street. Christian didn't want to put on a coat so he put on his bathrobe instead. And hasn't taken it off, so he's been wandering around our house like Hugh Hefner.
And this was only the early part of the evening. I haven't even mentioned when Adam died on the Waterfall. It was like in Beerfest when the guy gets totally wasted and just kinda stumbles around after the others. And don't even get me started on that Waterfall...
I love my life. Truly.
And I love my boyfriend.
Muah.
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