Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Dirty yellow cars, and the false discourse of independence
What an odd day this has been. It's becoming hard to breath, and I am constantly hacking, and forgetting when I last had a cigarette, going out for one, and then remembering I had one like a half an hour prior. In fact, I am forgetting many things, like buying a bus pass yesterday so as to avoid being screamed at by the bus driver tonight. And that Godzilla was outside- leading to me locking her outside accidentally, for ten minutes. I say- it's fucking warm outside tonight eh?
I studied non-chalantly for my tech course today and wrote it easily; except that I was unawares that we would have to decipher binary- leading inevitably to me figuring out my own very very contrived system (I call this an "educated" guess, rather then just out and out guessing "C").
Additionally, as I studied in my same sunny spot by the north entrance to Ed. I thought about the issue I would use for my counseling taping session. One came to me in a surprising manner as I took a break and listened to some Tegan and Sarah for a while- that I think my personality is problematic. I mean, I think that I'm an awesome person, but, I feel like I'm too complicated for my own good. I was thinking about the "cult of individuality" conversation that I've been hearing lately, and puzzled how you could possibly come to any sort of good conclusion from that supposition (word?).
But here is a quandary- obviously I'm not ever going to dull myself down, because I can't change my life's experiences or education (nor would I want to), but what if I end up alone because I absolutely cannot fit into any social category, personality category (hence the issue with that compatibility test- categories and not fitting) or whatever else? It seems so terrible- like contemplating a metamorphosis into a lemming (and me without my cliff diving helmet). And I'm not even having 'buts' about it really, just questions and contemplations. As I explained to the Tattooed Catholic (my counseling/client taping buddy) when my turn came- I'm not in a hurry, or desperate to find anyone, but it still has dawned on me that stage of my life where this becomes much more important is coming up painful quick. Though I'm not the type, I'm afraid it might sneak up on me to make a brash decision in the whole "life mate" area. Compounded with that are my mum's affectionate little comments on how I've grown, and "gee, imagine when I was your age, I was married and had children"- something that is only going to increase in occurrence when I turn twenty-two soon.
In other news, Grandma went on oxygen today. She's annoyed as all hell by it, so it's somewhat funny to see her grumbling and throwing the long gossamer pipe around, but really, it is hard to see any humor in the situation at all. In the span of the days I was gone on my ski trip, she deteriorated to the point where she has to write down what she wants to say now, because her mouth is too bad. She washes her hair in the sink because she's too weak to wash it in the shower. I don't know what to do, just that I should be doing something, but what that is completely escapes me- which makes me feel like a selfish little rot.
I decided that when I get time again, that I'm going to make the most comprehensible site for Golden Hars online. Because there is none, and I keep getting hits from people looking for it- and I have enough material that I feel like it could be very valuable to the few of us out there affected by it.
Lastly, I was talking to Godzilla tonight, and she asked me why on earth I would want to move out, like she was taking it horribly personally or something. At least, that's what I assume was in the back of her mind, but it wasn't apparently. I told her that I just thought it was time. She told me I was being stupid, and that there is no reason for it, and condemned me for even thinking it. And really, I didn't care. Until the next few things came out of her mouth. She started spouting off how it was "furthermore" infeasible to do, citing my upcoming ITP/ATP semesters, that "though you think you have it figured out, you're going to have to get clothing for that" (like it's the most important clothing purchase I'm going to have to make in my entire life, and therefore the most expensive). So, this seems all so silly, and I'm smiling inwardly because it is just SO silly. And then she nails me with, "youâre going to need a car."
"You're being a retard", I protest, using much nicer language. As if I would need a car. She keeps saying, "what if you land APT in a place on the opposite end of town? You need to have a car- you need to be more flexible then public transit girl." And it's all so very ridiculous. True, I hadn't thought of this to that extent- but I am also convinced that this is so trivial that I could sit down and figure out some sort of contingency if I had to (e.g.: if I did get sent to a school that was really far away). It's always been like that- think up contingency plans for trivial stuff when it becomes imperative that a solution is called for. Not before then. So I'm laughing it off, and she does that thing she does when she thinks I'm acting like a child. Her gaze narrows, and I get the "you are so incredibly foolish, god, you never take anything serious because you're too dumb" look.
"Your dad agrees with me."
My face turns a little red as I realize the ramifications of this, stupidly watching my black bean soup boil like a tar pit over a red-hot element. If I know that it would be fucking impossible for me to afford a vehicle this summer, to the point that it is entirely laughable (no matter what I were to do- two jobs already being on the agenda)- chances are that my dad has known that for at least one year prior. Unfortunate for her, Godzilla apparently doesn't know when to shut up, I realized, as she continued to gibber on about how vehement she is about not burying my grandmother and moving out of the house that the other sisters want to get sold instantly- by extension, that my dad has also agreed that "the house should be held on to for you (me) and I (Godzilla) for as long as we (her and dad) deem necessary. And your dad and I were thinking you should be here with me."
"Nice to know someone is planning my life for me," I said numbly as she left the kitchen. And she laughed, rather then getting the implication of it, like she thought it was funny, and that I should be relieved that my dad and her (and mom by extension) have been plotting this all out behind my back.
And for once in my life, I think I'm going to stick out my neck and say screw off. I will kick that gift horse in the face. I don't want a car. I don't want someone else still behind the reigns of my life. I knew that I was still a dependent, but now I think that I didn't know the full extent of it. It's like I've found out that I'm just being allowed to play dress-up, that "you're so grown up and mature now" was just a ruse. I was thinking about "spoiled rich kid" syndrome earlier (partially concocted, partially not)- where, in the Hollywood-ized version, the kid is provided for so much that he fucks around a lot, has no responsibility, no pride, no need to have valuable life skills, and ends up overdosing on coke in the lap of a whore named Elsie. They think they're helping me, but they're not. I should be grateful, but I'm not going to be if I keep getting treated like I would be incapable of taking care of myself if I tried. I do have pride- I'd like to hold onto it, instead of constantly feeling like it's slipping through my fingers like mercury.
I talked to the Harlot tonight. I don't dare take the risk of trusting her (she being one of the Aunts), but it seems that all of a sudden, she's become sane, and actually a decent person to talk to again.
¶ 11:21 PM
I studied non-chalantly for my tech course today and wrote it easily; except that I was unawares that we would have to decipher binary- leading inevitably to me figuring out my own very very contrived system (I call this an "educated" guess, rather then just out and out guessing "C").
Additionally, as I studied in my same sunny spot by the north entrance to Ed. I thought about the issue I would use for my counseling taping session. One came to me in a surprising manner as I took a break and listened to some Tegan and Sarah for a while- that I think my personality is problematic. I mean, I think that I'm an awesome person, but, I feel like I'm too complicated for my own good. I was thinking about the "cult of individuality" conversation that I've been hearing lately, and puzzled how you could possibly come to any sort of good conclusion from that supposition (word?).
But here is a quandary- obviously I'm not ever going to dull myself down, because I can't change my life's experiences or education (nor would I want to), but what if I end up alone because I absolutely cannot fit into any social category, personality category (hence the issue with that compatibility test- categories and not fitting) or whatever else? It seems so terrible- like contemplating a metamorphosis into a lemming (and me without my cliff diving helmet). And I'm not even having 'buts' about it really, just questions and contemplations. As I explained to the Tattooed Catholic (my counseling/client taping buddy) when my turn came- I'm not in a hurry, or desperate to find anyone, but it still has dawned on me that stage of my life where this becomes much more important is coming up painful quick. Though I'm not the type, I'm afraid it might sneak up on me to make a brash decision in the whole "life mate" area. Compounded with that are my mum's affectionate little comments on how I've grown, and "gee, imagine when I was your age, I was married and had children"- something that is only going to increase in occurrence when I turn twenty-two soon.
In other news, Grandma went on oxygen today. She's annoyed as all hell by it, so it's somewhat funny to see her grumbling and throwing the long gossamer pipe around, but really, it is hard to see any humor in the situation at all. In the span of the days I was gone on my ski trip, she deteriorated to the point where she has to write down what she wants to say now, because her mouth is too bad. She washes her hair in the sink because she's too weak to wash it in the shower. I don't know what to do, just that I should be doing something, but what that is completely escapes me- which makes me feel like a selfish little rot.
I decided that when I get time again, that I'm going to make the most comprehensible site for Golden Hars online. Because there is none, and I keep getting hits from people looking for it- and I have enough material that I feel like it could be very valuable to the few of us out there affected by it.
Lastly, I was talking to Godzilla tonight, and she asked me why on earth I would want to move out, like she was taking it horribly personally or something. At least, that's what I assume was in the back of her mind, but it wasn't apparently. I told her that I just thought it was time. She told me I was being stupid, and that there is no reason for it, and condemned me for even thinking it. And really, I didn't care. Until the next few things came out of her mouth. She started spouting off how it was "furthermore" infeasible to do, citing my upcoming ITP/ATP semesters, that "though you think you have it figured out, you're going to have to get clothing for that" (like it's the most important clothing purchase I'm going to have to make in my entire life, and therefore the most expensive). So, this seems all so silly, and I'm smiling inwardly because it is just SO silly. And then she nails me with, "youâre going to need a car."
"You're being a retard", I protest, using much nicer language. As if I would need a car. She keeps saying, "what if you land APT in a place on the opposite end of town? You need to have a car- you need to be more flexible then public transit girl." And it's all so very ridiculous. True, I hadn't thought of this to that extent- but I am also convinced that this is so trivial that I could sit down and figure out some sort of contingency if I had to (e.g.: if I did get sent to a school that was really far away). It's always been like that- think up contingency plans for trivial stuff when it becomes imperative that a solution is called for. Not before then. So I'm laughing it off, and she does that thing she does when she thinks I'm acting like a child. Her gaze narrows, and I get the "you are so incredibly foolish, god, you never take anything serious because you're too dumb" look.
"Your dad agrees with me."
My face turns a little red as I realize the ramifications of this, stupidly watching my black bean soup boil like a tar pit over a red-hot element. If I know that it would be fucking impossible for me to afford a vehicle this summer, to the point that it is entirely laughable (no matter what I were to do- two jobs already being on the agenda)- chances are that my dad has known that for at least one year prior. Unfortunate for her, Godzilla apparently doesn't know when to shut up, I realized, as she continued to gibber on about how vehement she is about not burying my grandmother and moving out of the house that the other sisters want to get sold instantly- by extension, that my dad has also agreed that "the house should be held on to for you (me) and I (Godzilla) for as long as we (her and dad) deem necessary. And your dad and I were thinking you should be here with me."
"Nice to know someone is planning my life for me," I said numbly as she left the kitchen. And she laughed, rather then getting the implication of it, like she thought it was funny, and that I should be relieved that my dad and her (and mom by extension) have been plotting this all out behind my back.
And for once in my life, I think I'm going to stick out my neck and say screw off. I will kick that gift horse in the face. I don't want a car. I don't want someone else still behind the reigns of my life. I knew that I was still a dependent, but now I think that I didn't know the full extent of it. It's like I've found out that I'm just being allowed to play dress-up, that "you're so grown up and mature now" was just a ruse. I was thinking about "spoiled rich kid" syndrome earlier (partially concocted, partially not)- where, in the Hollywood-ized version, the kid is provided for so much that he fucks around a lot, has no responsibility, no pride, no need to have valuable life skills, and ends up overdosing on coke in the lap of a whore named Elsie. They think they're helping me, but they're not. I should be grateful, but I'm not going to be if I keep getting treated like I would be incapable of taking care of myself if I tried. I do have pride- I'd like to hold onto it, instead of constantly feeling like it's slipping through my fingers like mercury.
I talked to the Harlot tonight. I don't dare take the risk of trusting her (she being one of the Aunts), but it seems that all of a sudden, she's become sane, and actually a decent person to talk to again.
¶ 11:21 PM
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I don't know why he wouldn't tell you. I mean, partially, I think we're all in a little bit of denial of what's happening to grandma, so he probably hasn't even thought about it, or wants to think about what is going to go down in a year or so.
But, I really don't think my dad thinks I'm capable of much of anything for some reason. Which is hilariously ironic, because my brother has been authentically independent since 16 for all the wrong reasons, and to all the wrong ends compared to what I've "done" with my life.
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But, I really don't think my dad thinks I'm capable of much of anything for some reason. Which is hilariously ironic, because my brother has been authentically independent since 16 for all the wrong reasons, and to all the wrong ends compared to what I've "done" with my life.
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