It's the end of the Halloween holiday, and I'm sitting here chewing the last bits of a mini-Mound bar. It's been a pretty good day.
I love Halloween, always have, always will. At fourteen, I'm still trick-or-treating, and plan to for at least another year. It's a day full of candy and having an excuse to be something you're not, or something you want to be. I was emo this year, but a woman who saw me and has no clue about teen culture just called me fun.
DF hates Halloween. He stopped trick-or-treating after the ripe old age of eleven. He made the last minute decision to be a golfer. He hates golf.
The best costume ever would be one of my friends who dressed up as Waldo from the Where's Waldo books.
I think my main problem with Halloween is the fat. I put on weight after Halloween. A lot of weight. I'll admit it. Most of my gigantic bag of candy is gone by December. And most (okay, all) of my lost weight is back on. So this year, I have a resolution I doubt I'll stick to. I'm going to write little exercise things on little slips of paper into my candy bag. If I pull out a candy, I can eat it. If I pull out an exercise, I must do it then and there. I doubt this one will work.
Sorry this post was so random, but I really don't care.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
age
As of yesterday, I'm fourteen. Catorce, my favorite number in Spanish. And yet I don't feel any different....
It makes me think about the Sandra Cisneros story where she says that when you're eight you're really one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight at the same time, so when you cry like a baby, that's the three-year-old in you, but you're still eight.
Except that's not how I feel. Sometimes, before my birthday even happened, I would almost tell people that I was fourteen. Because I feel fourteen, but I felt the same way six weeks ago.
I really don't get age. When I turned thirteen, someone asked me if I was a sophomore. When I tried to get into the ICU this past summer, they assumed that since I was with a younger sister who could also come in, I was at least fifteen. I get confused all the time for a ninth grader or even a high schooler, and no one ever believed I was thirteen.
Right now, I feel fourteen, but in a few months when I feel fifteen, and people start thinking I can't be younger than a junior? Age just doesn't make sense to me anymore. It just doesn't fit me. If someone asks me how old I am, I'll say I'm fourteen, but it doesn't really mean that I'm really close to that age in my mind.
I don't really understand anything anymore. It just doesn't make sense.
It makes me think about the Sandra Cisneros story where she says that when you're eight you're really one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight at the same time, so when you cry like a baby, that's the three-year-old in you, but you're still eight.
Except that's not how I feel. Sometimes, before my birthday even happened, I would almost tell people that I was fourteen. Because I feel fourteen, but I felt the same way six weeks ago.
I really don't get age. When I turned thirteen, someone asked me if I was a sophomore. When I tried to get into the ICU this past summer, they assumed that since I was with a younger sister who could also come in, I was at least fifteen. I get confused all the time for a ninth grader or even a high schooler, and no one ever believed I was thirteen.
Right now, I feel fourteen, but in a few months when I feel fifteen, and people start thinking I can't be younger than a junior? Age just doesn't make sense to me anymore. It just doesn't fit me. If someone asks me how old I am, I'll say I'm fourteen, but it doesn't really mean that I'm really close to that age in my mind.
I don't really understand anything anymore. It just doesn't make sense.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The Happier Me
However, the Monday after that happened, we had an assembly. An assembly that didn't involve any choir performances, so I actually got to sit with my own class. Specifically, next to DF. Our teacher is one of those stupid guys who says we can't talk all assembly, so of course we spent half the time discussing the whole thing. The magician whose tricks didn't work and tried to convince us that we had magic didn't work very well, since it was the same tricks as the year before. So we spent the whole assembly focusing on our physical closeness, since we hardly ever get to sit next to each other when it's not lunch, and we shared an arm rest. Okay, so this isn't a big deal for most people, but it just makes me so happy.
Of course, it went normally after that, I got flicked in the face with gravy, all the normal stuff.
But then this past Friday happened. Whoever thought up Career Fair for 9th graders is my new hero. Of course, the 9th graders only don't go to class 1st, 2nd, and 3rd period when this happens, but it made things so much more fun.
My 1st period didn't make a difference, since there are only 8th graders in my class.
In choir, there were fifteen kids instead of fifty-four. Big difference. So we spent all period hanging out, playing on the piano. Whenever I play, I feel open. So when my friends Steve and Andy came over, we talked about music, I was free, and it was AMAZING.
During that class, I had to go to picture retakes. My original pictures SUCKED. Men should never be photographers at schools. That's when I discovered that picture retakes is like Special Ed or something. When they get there, they figure out what wrong, and they fix it. Seriously, like the greatest idea ever. But what was better was that I met up with DF and we went to them together. When I was getting my picture taken, he was standing off to the side, watching and laughing, like the perfect boyfriend would. It was great.
In math, there were FOUR people. That's right. I was the ONLY girl. We got to eat candy, did an easy worksheet, and then my man math teacher and the three guys in the class tried to figure out which celebrities are beautiful men. It was the craziest thing ever.
Everything just kind of fell into place yesterday. I'm just interested what'll happen on Wednesday. I don't have school on Monday or Tuesday, which just happens to mean no school on my birthday. I don't know how the whole birthday thing will go over.
Oh, and the reason for this happiness? I've been releasing my anger through this...paper. It's on the back of some worksheet from History, and I've just been drawing words on it. It's been going on for at least three weeks, but it's started making me feel better. I finished it Friday, and I gave it to DF, so when I get it back I may put a scanned picture of it on here. It's seriously the weirdest thing I probably have ever done.
Of course, it went normally after that, I got flicked in the face with gravy, all the normal stuff.
But then this past Friday happened. Whoever thought up Career Fair for 9th graders is my new hero. Of course, the 9th graders only don't go to class 1st, 2nd, and 3rd period when this happens, but it made things so much more fun.
My 1st period didn't make a difference, since there are only 8th graders in my class.
In choir, there were fifteen kids instead of fifty-four. Big difference. So we spent all period hanging out, playing on the piano. Whenever I play, I feel open. So when my friends Steve and Andy came over, we talked about music, I was free, and it was AMAZING.
During that class, I had to go to picture retakes. My original pictures SUCKED. Men should never be photographers at schools. That's when I discovered that picture retakes is like Special Ed or something. When they get there, they figure out what wrong, and they fix it. Seriously, like the greatest idea ever. But what was better was that I met up with DF and we went to them together. When I was getting my picture taken, he was standing off to the side, watching and laughing, like the perfect boyfriend would. It was great.
In math, there were FOUR people. That's right. I was the ONLY girl. We got to eat candy, did an easy worksheet, and then my man math teacher and the three guys in the class tried to figure out which celebrities are beautiful men. It was the craziest thing ever.
Everything just kind of fell into place yesterday. I'm just interested what'll happen on Wednesday. I don't have school on Monday or Tuesday, which just happens to mean no school on my birthday. I don't know how the whole birthday thing will go over.
Oh, and the reason for this happiness? I've been releasing my anger through this...paper. It's on the back of some worksheet from History, and I've just been drawing words on it. It's been going on for at least three weeks, but it's started making me feel better. I finished it Friday, and I gave it to DF, so when I get it back I may put a scanned picture of it on here. It's seriously the weirdest thing I probably have ever done.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
here's what happened after i got frustrated because i couldn't cry...
The day after my crying post, I saw one of my old friends smoking. Which got me thinking about my dad (who I will explain later), and I broke down. Majorly. As in I got home, went to bed around 3:30 in the afternoon, and refused to come out of my room for another four hours. In that moment, I died inside. A lot of things have caught up with me lately.
My brother, who has unilateral kidney disease, who I love so much, is leaving soon. And I'll miss him like heck, but I know he has to go. My other brother, who is extremely healthy, leaves for his mission this December.
I'm having disease issues. Between the renal hypoplasia, chronic hives, and diabetes, it's just too much. I know that none of them are life-threatening, but when I explained each one to DF, his face dropped. He tried to ease it with his scoliosis issues, but now we both feel worse.
My dad, who used to smoke like a chimney, may still be addicted to porn, started talking to his now-girlfriend when my parents were still married, is having health problems. He pinched a nerve and can barely walk. Me, the still 13-year-old, is doing his grocery shopping, getting his mail, taking out his trash, etc. And he is still losing his mind. I just can't support him anymore, can't keep teaching him the things his brain is letting him forget.
My grandma seems to always be on the verge of dying. My grandpa (from another side) was just diagnosed with some pretty advanced prostate cancer.
Everyone is either getting worse or leaving me, while I'm just here, unable to do anything. That's why I spent hours crying the day after I thought I was able to hold it all in, that I was strong enough.
It turns out I'm not.
My brother, who has unilateral kidney disease, who I love so much, is leaving soon. And I'll miss him like heck, but I know he has to go. My other brother, who is extremely healthy, leaves for his mission this December.
I'm having disease issues. Between the renal hypoplasia, chronic hives, and diabetes, it's just too much. I know that none of them are life-threatening, but when I explained each one to DF, his face dropped. He tried to ease it with his scoliosis issues, but now we both feel worse.
My dad, who used to smoke like a chimney, may still be addicted to porn, started talking to his now-girlfriend when my parents were still married, is having health problems. He pinched a nerve and can barely walk. Me, the still 13-year-old, is doing his grocery shopping, getting his mail, taking out his trash, etc. And he is still losing his mind. I just can't support him anymore, can't keep teaching him the things his brain is letting him forget.
My grandma seems to always be on the verge of dying. My grandpa (from another side) was just diagnosed with some pretty advanced prostate cancer.
Everyone is either getting worse or leaving me, while I'm just here, unable to do anything. That's why I spent hours crying the day after I thought I was able to hold it all in, that I was strong enough.
It turns out I'm not.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Crying
After my grandma experienced two near-death encounters due to an illness that is too complicated to easily explain, she was finally going to get a knee replacement today. She's been living for months in a wheelchair with absolutely no knee. But when they opened her up during surgery today, they discovered that the area where the knee was to go was infected. With the infection she's been fighting for months.
I've been thinking a lot about crying lately. Through my whole life, crying has never been hard for me. When my mom called me and told me the news, of course my tears started welling up. But I don't cry anymore. The tears come, but they don't fall. It just doesn't happen.
After years of being a crybaby, I am so angry that my tears won't come. Am I not sad anymore? Or will my sadness just refuse to break through the barrier of love I now have surrounding my hurt?
I don't know, and I realize that this is a sentimental piece of crap to everyone who has no clue who I am. I apologize.
But in other news, I guess I'll talk about the DF. I've decided to tell him my secrets. I've already told him a few, and it feels better when he knows exactly what I'm trying to say, because he understands the back meaning to it.
And...FPS sucks. That's Future Problem Solvers, and I say that we abolish it.
I've been thinking a lot about crying lately. Through my whole life, crying has never been hard for me. When my mom called me and told me the news, of course my tears started welling up. But I don't cry anymore. The tears come, but they don't fall. It just doesn't happen.
After years of being a crybaby, I am so angry that my tears won't come. Am I not sad anymore? Or will my sadness just refuse to break through the barrier of love I now have surrounding my hurt?
I don't know, and I realize that this is a sentimental piece of crap to everyone who has no clue who I am. I apologize.
But in other news, I guess I'll talk about the DF. I've decided to tell him my secrets. I've already told him a few, and it feels better when he knows exactly what I'm trying to say, because he understands the back meaning to it.
And...FPS sucks. That's Future Problem Solvers, and I say that we abolish it.
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