Sunday, February 13, 2005
I'm the motherfucker who named you Sue.
My father and I had another heart to heart about Mr. Pink. And he is right, there is nothing "there" with between myself and Mr. Pink that is even worth making a fuss about, but the more I think about it, the more I get enraged that truly, the boy does not give a fuck about me at all. He is coming to Banff, but it's more a self-motivated thing then anything.
And the more I think about things, the more I realize I've embodied my initial worst nightmare about it all- that sex is all-encompassing in the mind of a boy who has never had sex before- and I did that to him, with the idealistic thoughts that "it won't turn out that way this time." I should have just kept my hands to myself. The other thing that my dad said, that pissed me off, was that it is inescapable that there are different values between the two of us. More specifically, he meant values regarding time, (bringing up the horrible stereotype of "Indian time") and being laid-back. He's happy when he sees me, but really just forgets me when I'm not there. And I know he does it, he's told me many times. And I pretend to be ok with that, but really, it burns little cigerette holes in my heart every time I hear it. I don't forget about him. And maybe I am settling again. At first it didn't seem like it, but now I feel like if I do stick around that I will be.
At one point I did actually believe, "don't let go, this is it- your last hope". Now, I realize that it isn't necessarily true. Rather, it is me not being able to do things the right way. In my entire life, I have not done any love-related thing the right way, and frankly, I'm fairly certain it's because I can't. But while that is all fine and negative, it isn't really- I just have to find someone who's also been as unconventional as I have.
And on that note- Happy V-Day everybody (for it is tomorrow, as well as Valentines day)! Vaginas rule. And penises can't plan.
I'm having a pretty good day so far actually. I've been listening to my old Johnny Cash and cleaning. Surprisingly, Godzilla has been pretty calm-ish for the whole day. A record breaking Sunday ("Sunday, bloody Sunday....") on the low conflict scale.
Reading week is coming! Banff! Excitement! Except Fenton isn't coming and everyone else probably is! Bugger! ¶ 5:22 PM
I really hate Valentines day. Everyone who knows me, knows this, and my hatred is growing thicker by the second as the hours to the day tick by. Couples seem more glaring and in your face with their bacteria swapping, and rabid groping- and a little part of me dies everytime I realize that the only Valentines gifts I have ever
recieved, have been from my parents. Stuffed Koala bears with "XOXOX" jiffied markered on them accompanied with Hershey kisses that I end up popping like Vicodin in the vain attempt that I can sugarhigh my way to a better more complacent me.
recieved, have been from my parents. Stuffed Koala bears with "XOXOX" jiffied markered on them accompanied with Hershey kisses that I end up popping like Vicodin in the vain attempt that I can sugarhigh my way to a better more complacent me.
My father and I had another heart to heart about Mr. Pink. And he is right, there is nothing "there" with between myself and Mr. Pink that is even worth making a fuss about, but the more I think about it, the more I get enraged that truly, the boy does not give a fuck about me at all. He is coming to Banff, but it's more a self-motivated thing then anything.
And the more I think about things, the more I realize I've embodied my initial worst nightmare about it all- that sex is all-encompassing in the mind of a boy who has never had sex before- and I did that to him, with the idealistic thoughts that "it won't turn out that way this time." I should have just kept my hands to myself. The other thing that my dad said, that pissed me off, was that it is inescapable that there are different values between the two of us. More specifically, he meant values regarding time, (bringing up the horrible stereotype of "Indian time") and being laid-back. He's happy when he sees me, but really just forgets me when I'm not there. And I know he does it, he's told me many times. And I pretend to be ok with that, but really, it burns little cigerette holes in my heart every time I hear it. I don't forget about him. And maybe I am settling again. At first it didn't seem like it, but now I feel like if I do stick around that I will be.
At one point I did actually believe, "don't let go, this is it- your last hope". Now, I realize that it isn't necessarily true. Rather, it is me not being able to do things the right way. In my entire life, I have not done any love-related thing the right way, and frankly, I'm fairly certain it's because I can't. But while that is all fine and negative, it isn't really- I just have to find someone who's also been as unconventional as I have.
And on that note- Happy V-Day everybody (for it is tomorrow, as well as Valentines day)! Vaginas rule. And penises can't plan.
I'm having a pretty good day so far actually. I've been listening to my old Johnny Cash and cleaning. Surprisingly, Godzilla has been pretty calm-ish for the whole day. A record breaking Sunday ("Sunday, bloody Sunday....") on the low conflict scale.
Reading week is coming! Banff! Excitement! Except Fenton isn't coming and everyone else probably is! Bugger! ¶ 5:22 PM
