6.30.2003
OUCH!
Reason number 1,000,000,000 why I should NEVER, NEVER, EVER forget to put sunscreen on before leaving the house:
I am sunburned. Instead of being sickly nerd-white, I am now a shocking shade of magenta. All because I didn't apply sunscreen half an hour before going outside. . . for 5 hours. With no shade in sight. To watch, of all things, a softball game.
Yes, I did have a good time hanging out and talking to people I haven't seen in months. . . but, when I got home, I really felt the effects of the sun.
OUCH! It's painful.
I would rather it had been a soccer game. Then I would have played. . . and gotten all sweaty and smelly, but it would have been lots of running and athletic-type fun. . . I like soccer.
Reason number 1,000,000,000 why I should NEVER, NEVER, EVER forget to put sunscreen on before leaving the house:
I am sunburned. Instead of being sickly nerd-white, I am now a shocking shade of magenta. All because I didn't apply sunscreen half an hour before going outside. . . for 5 hours. With no shade in sight. To watch, of all things, a softball game.
Yes, I did have a good time hanging out and talking to people I haven't seen in months. . . but, when I got home, I really felt the effects of the sun.
OUCH! It's painful.
I would rather it had been a soccer game. Then I would have played. . . and gotten all sweaty and smelly, but it would have been lots of running and athletic-type fun. . . I like soccer.
6.27.2003
Why the Federal Governmnet isn't always so bad. . .
The United States Federal Trade Commission (FTC) announced the creation of a national "do not call" list today.
I hate telemarketing. Really loathe and despise it. It foists pushy salespeople on you, uninvited, like back in the days of the travelling salesman, except it's a lot less passive-aggressively satisfying to slam the phone down on them than it ever was to pretend you weren't home, not answer the doorbell or to slam the door shut in their face (or on their toes). It's also just as difficult to get rid of them, especially when they won't take "no" for an answer and start to sell you on the product that you don't want to begin with. . . like newspapers you never read, magazines you don't want (at exorbitant subscription rates which would be much lower if you ordered them directly), "free" trips to the Bahamas (yeah, how much Shredded Wheat do I have to eat for that?), switching your long-distance provider . . . the list runs on and on. Now, I have less of a problem with charities calling, since that's pretty much the only way some of them raise any money, but it's still irritating.
Especially when you have an unlisted phone number. With these nasty auto-dialers everyone's using nowadays, even unlisted numbers aren't safe. Ugh.
What to do, what to do? Now you can ensure that you have legal grounds to press charges against telemarketers if you sign up for the national "don't call" list. Any telemarketer who calls you after the FTC starts enforcing the list (October 1, 2003) is in for pricey penalties. They're required to check the list every 3 months and make sure they don't call those numbers.
Wow. How long did it take them to come up with this one? When did it dawn on the government that this was a good idea? Now, only if they could do the same thing about junk mail. . .
The United States Federal Trade Commission (FTC) announced the creation of a national "do not call" list today.
I hate telemarketing. Really loathe and despise it. It foists pushy salespeople on you, uninvited, like back in the days of the travelling salesman, except it's a lot less passive-aggressively satisfying to slam the phone down on them than it ever was to pretend you weren't home, not answer the doorbell or to slam the door shut in their face (or on their toes). It's also just as difficult to get rid of them, especially when they won't take "no" for an answer and start to sell you on the product that you don't want to begin with. . . like newspapers you never read, magazines you don't want (at exorbitant subscription rates which would be much lower if you ordered them directly), "free" trips to the Bahamas (yeah, how much Shredded Wheat do I have to eat for that?), switching your long-distance provider . . . the list runs on and on. Now, I have less of a problem with charities calling, since that's pretty much the only way some of them raise any money, but it's still irritating.
Especially when you have an unlisted phone number. With these nasty auto-dialers everyone's using nowadays, even unlisted numbers aren't safe. Ugh.
What to do, what to do? Now you can ensure that you have legal grounds to press charges against telemarketers if you sign up for the national "don't call" list. Any telemarketer who calls you after the FTC starts enforcing the list (October 1, 2003) is in for pricey penalties. They're required to check the list every 3 months and make sure they don't call those numbers.
Wow. How long did it take them to come up with this one? When did it dawn on the government that this was a good idea? Now, only if they could do the same thing about junk mail. . .
6.26.2003
It's a NASTY day outside today.
I braved the heat, haze and humidity to take a walk downtown, get a sunburn and see my shrink. Who told me that I'm perfectly right to call the cops on my brother if he hits me again. Even if my father says he wouldn't like it if I did.
Then I had my "figure evaluation" at the new gym that opened up this past Monday. It's a for-women-only place, it does circuit training . . . and it's right near the train station, so NO EXCUSES not to go. I love it there. It's clean and doesn't stink (yet) and the women are so friendly and perky . . . I'm in heaven. Yes, this is exactly where I want to be. I set goals and did some arithmetic. . . and now have to budget my fitness plan into my budget.
No problem. That money comes out of beer money that I'm not spending anymore because I stopped going out on a regular basis. . . which is just fine by me. Anything that slims me down enough to get into that slinky dress I want to wear in the middle of August will be a HUGE boost to my self-esteem. Plus, it'll be good to keep going after August, considering the fact that the Fall is when I feel chunkiest.
Halloween parties here I come! I will be trim enough to fit into any costume I like . . . even leather pants. . . and I'll be able to keep the weight off, because I've joined the gym for the year.
I feel very positive right now.
I braved the heat, haze and humidity to take a walk downtown, get a sunburn and see my shrink. Who told me that I'm perfectly right to call the cops on my brother if he hits me again. Even if my father says he wouldn't like it if I did.
Then I had my "figure evaluation" at the new gym that opened up this past Monday. It's a for-women-only place, it does circuit training . . . and it's right near the train station, so NO EXCUSES not to go. I love it there. It's clean and doesn't stink (yet) and the women are so friendly and perky . . . I'm in heaven. Yes, this is exactly where I want to be. I set goals and did some arithmetic. . . and now have to budget my fitness plan into my budget.
No problem. That money comes out of beer money that I'm not spending anymore because I stopped going out on a regular basis. . . which is just fine by me. Anything that slims me down enough to get into that slinky dress I want to wear in the middle of August will be a HUGE boost to my self-esteem. Plus, it'll be good to keep going after August, considering the fact that the Fall is when I feel chunkiest.
Halloween parties here I come! I will be trim enough to fit into any costume I like . . . even leather pants. . . and I'll be able to keep the weight off, because I've joined the gym for the year.
I feel very positive right now.
6.24.2003
I am tired of my next-door neighbors already.
The dumb fucks have had a light on in their house every night, all night, for the past week. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have noticed, except, well, the light shines into my bedroom.
I'm rather vampiric when it comes to sleep. I need complete darkness and quiet. So having a light shining into my bedroom while I'm trying to get some much-needed shuteye is NOT my idea of a good time.
Last night, I tacked up a sheet, which helped a little, but dammit I need to get those blinds up! Of course, everything in my house is crooked, so I can't even hang the blinds myself, but being woken up every hour on the hour until my alarm went off at 6am was NOT very restful. I'm just lucky I didn't have a meeting this afternoon. . . I would've been SNORING for sure!
Other than that, I'm losing sleep over re-reading the first 4 Harry Potter books because I am DYING to crack Order of the Phoenix open. It's sitting on my desk, tempting me with its teaser-printed cardboard wrapper - "Deeper secrets. Darker powers. Stronger magic." - and multiple warnings not to, under ANY circumstances, deliver the package before June 21st. I'm really looking forward to reading it. . . I just want to be all set up because so far, Goblet of Fire was the most dual of the set yet. I love books you can enjoy on more than one level.
The dumb fucks have had a light on in their house every night, all night, for the past week. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have noticed, except, well, the light shines into my bedroom.
I'm rather vampiric when it comes to sleep. I need complete darkness and quiet. So having a light shining into my bedroom while I'm trying to get some much-needed shuteye is NOT my idea of a good time.
Last night, I tacked up a sheet, which helped a little, but dammit I need to get those blinds up! Of course, everything in my house is crooked, so I can't even hang the blinds myself, but being woken up every hour on the hour until my alarm went off at 6am was NOT very restful. I'm just lucky I didn't have a meeting this afternoon. . . I would've been SNORING for sure!
Other than that, I'm losing sleep over re-reading the first 4 Harry Potter books because I am DYING to crack Order of the Phoenix open. It's sitting on my desk, tempting me with its teaser-printed cardboard wrapper - "Deeper secrets. Darker powers. Stronger magic." - and multiple warnings not to, under ANY circumstances, deliver the package before June 21st. I'm really looking forward to reading it. . . I just want to be all set up because so far, Goblet of Fire was the most dual of the set yet. I love books you can enjoy on more than one level.
6.18.2003
Dinner
So I cooked a special, and quick, dinner for Dad tonight because we had made plans to hang out. It went as expected. . .I got the 3rd degree for bringing up my feelings that things were not going to get better with my brother without outside help, but, like I said, this was not unexpected.
The overall impression I got from my dad's reaction is that I am the bad guy because I'm not a "retard" and I'm doing nothing but complaining and acting like a child. I am also not to do anything to antagonize my brother, which, at this point, leaves very little to do.
OK great. I told Dad what this means to me. And he sat back and decided to twist things around to make me feel like I was wrong. So now I'm the manipulative one. . . yet I'm the one who got smacked in the head last Friday night.
No, No, No, No, No. That's not how I hoped it would go. Dad has already made Joey's decision for him and I will get no further on this. He asked me "what if he tells you things that you don't want to hear?" . . . ummm, that was kind of the point of suggesting the mediation in the first place. "Well, why can't you talk this out, just us? Why do you need a counsellor?" Um, so nobody ends up taking sides and there's a rational being there to sum things up when we're done?
I think Dad is back in the money-troubles mode again and he doesn't want to pay for it, so he's making excuses as to why it's not going to work before we even try it. So the subject was dropped. Again and again.
The choice has been made clear: Dad chooses Joey over me. Like I was accused of choosing my friends over them in January when I had my hand surgery. Like I have been told he hasn't. But why does it feel like he has?
So I cooked a special, and quick, dinner for Dad tonight because we had made plans to hang out. It went as expected. . .I got the 3rd degree for bringing up my feelings that things were not going to get better with my brother without outside help, but, like I said, this was not unexpected.
The overall impression I got from my dad's reaction is that I am the bad guy because I'm not a "retard" and I'm doing nothing but complaining and acting like a child. I am also not to do anything to antagonize my brother, which, at this point, leaves very little to do.
OK great. I told Dad what this means to me. And he sat back and decided to twist things around to make me feel like I was wrong. So now I'm the manipulative one. . . yet I'm the one who got smacked in the head last Friday night.
No, No, No, No, No. That's not how I hoped it would go. Dad has already made Joey's decision for him and I will get no further on this. He asked me "what if he tells you things that you don't want to hear?" . . . ummm, that was kind of the point of suggesting the mediation in the first place. "Well, why can't you talk this out, just us? Why do you need a counsellor?" Um, so nobody ends up taking sides and there's a rational being there to sum things up when we're done?
I think Dad is back in the money-troubles mode again and he doesn't want to pay for it, so he's making excuses as to why it's not going to work before we even try it. So the subject was dropped. Again and again.
The choice has been made clear: Dad chooses Joey over me. Like I was accused of choosing my friends over them in January when I had my hand surgery. Like I have been told he hasn't. But why does it feel like he has?
6.17.2003
Once again, I have turned to my mother for advice. There are no words for how indescribably bizarre and unnatural this feels to me, because she's been "wrong" more often than she's been "right" in my experience with her, so it just feels wrong.
Unfortunately, she's the only adult person who has been on the inside of my SITUATION, and, can look in on it from outside. . . like I can, sort of.
She sent me some information I hadn't known before, about my step-sister and her relationship with her now-husband while they were dating. . . her family didn't like him at first, either. It got so bad, in fact, that she couldn't go to her mom's house for holidays. But she and her family reconciled. . . and they were all present at her wedding this past Friday, smiling and happy for her, and proud to be there.
Maybe Mom thought that this would be inspirational, and it is.
I just feel crushed right now, though. I was starting to let myself dream and plan a future with someone. . . who all but told me that he doesn't want to be a part of my life because of my family. So, once again, my brother wins. My brother and my father control my life. This is beyond ludicrous.
I don't need their permission to live my life. Or to fall in love. Which is why this breaks my heart over and over again and makes me sick to my stomach. If that's the way it has to be, the family can all take as much time and space as they want to. Because I'm going to drop off the face of the planet for a little while. No phone calls, no e-mails, no visits. I'll be better off without them, won't I? And as for the person I'm still in love with, he insists he needs to get away from "all of it". . . what exactly does that mean? To me, it sounds as if he means that he doesn't need me in his life anymore. His reasons run the gamut from "[I'm] a drama queen who creates drama under the guise of preventing it", the way my brother and father treat him (and the way my brother treats me and the way I cry about it), the way other people react to the overall drama generated by my brother's behavior. . . but, it's not because of anything I've done. He wants me to believe that he's not worth all this fuss and bother. . . because he doesn't think he is. "It's for your own good", he tells me.
I am sick of other people deciding what's good for me. You know what's good for me? Spending time, and maybe planning a future (which has now been dashed to smithereens), with someone who treats me like a princess, makes me laugh and with whom I have a lot of fun. . .rather than a younger brother who has accused me of being a liar, "mean" and "embarassing". Who tells me to die or to kill myself or that he hates me forever each and every time he sees me. Or a father who insists he'll take care of the problem with the aforementioned brother, yet, does very little to solve the problem. In fact, his coddling and tiptoeing around the situation has only made it worse.
OK, maybe I don't know what's good for me. Maybe feeling abused and betrayed is good for me. It's the way I've spent most of my life, so I must be happy being miserable. . . yeah, right. This is ludicrous.
Unfortunately, she's the only adult person who has been on the inside of my SITUATION, and, can look in on it from outside. . . like I can, sort of.
She sent me some information I hadn't known before, about my step-sister and her relationship with her now-husband while they were dating. . . her family didn't like him at first, either. It got so bad, in fact, that she couldn't go to her mom's house for holidays. But she and her family reconciled. . . and they were all present at her wedding this past Friday, smiling and happy for her, and proud to be there.
Maybe Mom thought that this would be inspirational, and it is.
I just feel crushed right now, though. I was starting to let myself dream and plan a future with someone. . . who all but told me that he doesn't want to be a part of my life because of my family. So, once again, my brother wins. My brother and my father control my life. This is beyond ludicrous.
I don't need their permission to live my life. Or to fall in love. Which is why this breaks my heart over and over again and makes me sick to my stomach. If that's the way it has to be, the family can all take as much time and space as they want to. Because I'm going to drop off the face of the planet for a little while. No phone calls, no e-mails, no visits. I'll be better off without them, won't I? And as for the person I'm still in love with, he insists he needs to get away from "all of it". . . what exactly does that mean? To me, it sounds as if he means that he doesn't need me in his life anymore. His reasons run the gamut from "[I'm] a drama queen who creates drama under the guise of preventing it", the way my brother and father treat him (and the way my brother treats me and the way I cry about it), the way other people react to the overall drama generated by my brother's behavior. . . but, it's not because of anything I've done. He wants me to believe that he's not worth all this fuss and bother. . . because he doesn't think he is. "It's for your own good", he tells me.
I am sick of other people deciding what's good for me. You know what's good for me? Spending time, and maybe planning a future (which has now been dashed to smithereens), with someone who treats me like a princess, makes me laugh and with whom I have a lot of fun. . .rather than a younger brother who has accused me of being a liar, "mean" and "embarassing". Who tells me to die or to kill myself or that he hates me forever each and every time he sees me. Or a father who insists he'll take care of the problem with the aforementioned brother, yet, does very little to solve the problem. In fact, his coddling and tiptoeing around the situation has only made it worse.
OK, maybe I don't know what's good for me. Maybe feeling abused and betrayed is good for me. It's the way I've spent most of my life, so I must be happy being miserable. . . yeah, right. This is ludicrous.
6.16.2003
I HATE HAVING TEMPER TANTRUMS
So I got this link to a Nursing Magazine from my mother. . . about "worry" and how it has adverse effects on you physiologically.
I know it does. I've been agitated before and know that I have to remind myself to eat or else I won't. And then I'll lose weight like I did in collge. . . badly.
But what's really eating at me lately is not so much "worry" as frustration.
Frustration with the Situation I can't control. Frustration with my brother, my father and Matt. My brother won't let me live my own life; my father offers intervention but doesn't and Matt doesn't want to deal with this drama anymore.
This is why I don't make long-range plans. Whenever I start to get comfortable with a situation, something Big comes up. Because I didn't see it there, lurking along the sidelines.
There is a children's book called The Hurt, it's probably out of print now, but it's about this little boy who brings home a physical thing called "the Hurt"; it looks like a little stone with a face on it, kind of an evil 'pet rock', and it gets bigger each time something happens to hurt the little boy. . . for example, he leaves his boots in the hallway and his dad yells at him. It keeps growing and growing until it almost squishes him out of his bedroom. . . and he goes to his parents to talk about things. And "the Hurt" shrinks down to nothing.
Wow. Brilliant little story, with the moral - "we must talk about our feelings or else the hurt grows and grows". Yeah, OK, fine, I'm talking.
But nobody is listening anymore because I'm so angry and hurt that they don't want to deal with it anymore.
I feel like my life is ruined and it's spun out of my control. I am being destroyed by the people who should love me the most: my family. And it's not right and it's not fair.
I just wanted to be able to live my own life, like a normal human being, and enjoy the best relationship I have ever managed to have, family drama excepted, and I am being told that I am not allowed to do that. I've been told that I chose my friends over my family, I've been accused of lying to them and I can't take this anymore.
It feels like they just "yes"-ed me to get me to shut up, and now I have to deal with the monster they created. And maintained. When I visit their home, although they insist that it's my home too, it isn't and it never will be. I'm confined to about 20 feet on one level of what's effectively a 2-level house, and they call that "my home". No. I have a home. It's where I live, work, eat, sleep and play. And it isn't there. I'm not welcome there. And they seem to be perfectly content to keep it that way.
No more guilt. No more abuse. No more. I need a breather from them because they are driving me crazy.
The only person who is backing me up in this is my mother. I have not turned to my mother for comfort or advice of any sort since I was 3 years old. It feels weird. I have support, but not from the side I needed it on.
So I got this link to a Nursing Magazine from my mother. . . about "worry" and how it has adverse effects on you physiologically.
I know it does. I've been agitated before and know that I have to remind myself to eat or else I won't. And then I'll lose weight like I did in collge. . . badly.
But what's really eating at me lately is not so much "worry" as frustration.
Frustration with the Situation I can't control. Frustration with my brother, my father and Matt. My brother won't let me live my own life; my father offers intervention but doesn't and Matt doesn't want to deal with this drama anymore.
This is why I don't make long-range plans. Whenever I start to get comfortable with a situation, something Big comes up. Because I didn't see it there, lurking along the sidelines.
There is a children's book called The Hurt, it's probably out of print now, but it's about this little boy who brings home a physical thing called "the Hurt"; it looks like a little stone with a face on it, kind of an evil 'pet rock', and it gets bigger each time something happens to hurt the little boy. . . for example, he leaves his boots in the hallway and his dad yells at him. It keeps growing and growing until it almost squishes him out of his bedroom. . . and he goes to his parents to talk about things. And "the Hurt" shrinks down to nothing.
Wow. Brilliant little story, with the moral - "we must talk about our feelings or else the hurt grows and grows". Yeah, OK, fine, I'm talking.
But nobody is listening anymore because I'm so angry and hurt that they don't want to deal with it anymore.
I feel like my life is ruined and it's spun out of my control. I am being destroyed by the people who should love me the most: my family. And it's not right and it's not fair.
I just wanted to be able to live my own life, like a normal human being, and enjoy the best relationship I have ever managed to have, family drama excepted, and I am being told that I am not allowed to do that. I've been told that I chose my friends over my family, I've been accused of lying to them and I can't take this anymore.
It feels like they just "yes"-ed me to get me to shut up, and now I have to deal with the monster they created. And maintained. When I visit their home, although they insist that it's my home too, it isn't and it never will be. I'm confined to about 20 feet on one level of what's effectively a 2-level house, and they call that "my home". No. I have a home. It's where I live, work, eat, sleep and play. And it isn't there. I'm not welcome there. And they seem to be perfectly content to keep it that way.
No more guilt. No more abuse. No more. I need a breather from them because they are driving me crazy.
The only person who is backing me up in this is my mother. I have not turned to my mother for comfort or advice of any sort since I was 3 years old. It feels weird. I have support, but not from the side I needed it on.
6.13.2003
I need Comments!!!
OK, not necessarily "need", but I kinda want them. Figuring out how to get them is what FAQ's are for. Lovely things, FAQ's. . . ahhh.
Now, since I don't own my server (it's public domain), I have to use off-site hosted programs. Which are a li'l icky, but they're free, so why should I complain?
If a snail moved any slower than I do with my site updates, I think the universe might implode.
OK, not necessarily "need", but I kinda want them. Figuring out how to get them is what FAQ's are for. Lovely things, FAQ's. . . ahhh.
Now, since I don't own my server (it's public domain), I have to use off-site hosted programs. Which are a li'l icky, but they're free, so why should I complain?
If a snail moved any slower than I do with my site updates, I think the universe might implode.
6.12.2003
I stumbled myself on this site I got from Bored.com . . . I found one of the best Abbott & Costello routines I loved as a kid. . . the version of "Who's on First" where Lou is filling in for Joe DiMaggio on the Yankees. Go to RadioLovers.com to hear it.
Smiles all around.
Smiles all around.
CHOCOLATE
A new exhibit opens at the American Museum of Natural History on Saturday. It is called "Chocolate". It covers the history of chocolate and why my infamous chili is right to include chocolate in the recipe.
One of my most favorite things to eat is chocolate. I love chocolate. Brownies, cookies, cakes, candy, you name it, if it's chocolate, I'll eat it. Except for Cocoa Puffs. I don't like chocolate for breakfast.
The best part about this exhibit is that it's got 2 of my most favorite things in the world - Chocolate and Dinosaurs - in the same exact place. . . I am a happy girl.
A new exhibit opens at the American Museum of Natural History on Saturday. It is called "Chocolate". It covers the history of chocolate and why my infamous chili is right to include chocolate in the recipe.
One of my most favorite things to eat is chocolate. I love chocolate. Brownies, cookies, cakes, candy, you name it, if it's chocolate, I'll eat it. Except for Cocoa Puffs. I don't like chocolate for breakfast.
The best part about this exhibit is that it's got 2 of my most favorite things in the world - Chocolate and Dinosaurs - in the same exact place. . . I am a happy girl.
Reason number 5,000,000,000 why working from home rocks:
I don't have to get dressed if I don't wanna. Today I just sat in my underwear while I slaved away at my thankless job . . . from home. I hate my job, but I am doing research on how to get OUT of my job. . . now that I'm no longer going the MBA route, that is.
I think I have grown up enough to be the kind of teacher I want to be. The kind of teacher that all my best teachers were. A teacher who cares enough about their students to actually pay attention to their educational needs, encouraging their creativity and knowing when it's time to have playtime. I'm also fortunate enough to have access to technology far beyond what was readily available when I was younger. . . Google, for example. They didn't have it when I was just an Internet newbie. . . now, people take it for granted. It'll be interesting to see what I find out in the next couple of weeks. . .I just hope I don't need to take any more maths. I'm tired of maths.
I don't have to get dressed if I don't wanna. Today I just sat in my underwear while I slaved away at my thankless job . . . from home. I hate my job, but I am doing research on how to get OUT of my job. . . now that I'm no longer going the MBA route, that is.
I think I have grown up enough to be the kind of teacher I want to be. The kind of teacher that all my best teachers were. A teacher who cares enough about their students to actually pay attention to their educational needs, encouraging their creativity and knowing when it's time to have playtime. I'm also fortunate enough to have access to technology far beyond what was readily available when I was younger. . . Google, for example. They didn't have it when I was just an Internet newbie. . . now, people take it for granted. It'll be interesting to see what I find out in the next couple of weeks. . .I just hope I don't need to take any more maths. I'm tired of maths.
6.11.2003
Why my clean khakis don't stay that way. . .
Some people should never eat while wearing light colors. I am one of them. I know this. HOWEVER, I am too lazy to bother getting darker colored khakis, hence the tomato stain on my upper left thigh.
I am a klutz, plain and simple.
Some people should never eat while wearing light colors. I am one of them. I know this. HOWEVER, I am too lazy to bother getting darker colored khakis, hence the tomato stain on my upper left thigh.
I am a klutz, plain and simple.
6.10.2003
So I was thinking about my sister the other day and I bought this book written for and about girls her age.
Then I started thinking about how she should probably get a lifetime membership to the KKK because of her narrow-mindedness.
About a month ago, she had the nerve to ask "why can't we be anything 'good'?" while discussing our ethnicity. Now, I happen to be DAMN proud to be German, Irish and Slovak. It's my heritage and makes for a good bit of genealogy research. I find it FASCINATING that my ancestors spoke entirely unrelated languages and am goddamn PROUD that they are not stereotyped as greaseballs or mobsters.
She happens to love that and think it's the greatest thing to have as a defining characteristic of an ethnic group. She happens to want, more than anything, to be a full-blooded Italian. If my step-dad (who is half Italian) hadn't been in the car with us, I would have made some derogatory remark, but, discretion being the better part of valor, I didn't. He wouldn't have taken it in the amusing light I'd intended.
I think, in this plea for "full-blooded"-ness, my sister was really expressing a desire to find an identity she could be proud of. But what I don't understand anymore is why being herself isn't good enough.
I'm tired of trying to act like someone I'm not. This is what's making me so cranky lately. I'm trying to act like I'm in the popular crowd in high school, but, you know, I was never cut out for that bullshit anyway. I've always been on the fringes of things. I realize, however, that I love the spotlight. . . what to do? Control the spotlight, so it lights on my own terms. . . either that, or get a webcam.
Then I started thinking about how she should probably get a lifetime membership to the KKK because of her narrow-mindedness.
About a month ago, she had the nerve to ask "why can't we be anything 'good'?" while discussing our ethnicity. Now, I happen to be DAMN proud to be German, Irish and Slovak. It's my heritage and makes for a good bit of genealogy research. I find it FASCINATING that my ancestors spoke entirely unrelated languages and am goddamn PROUD that they are not stereotyped as greaseballs or mobsters.
She happens to love that and think it's the greatest thing to have as a defining characteristic of an ethnic group. She happens to want, more than anything, to be a full-blooded Italian. If my step-dad (who is half Italian) hadn't been in the car with us, I would have made some derogatory remark, but, discretion being the better part of valor, I didn't. He wouldn't have taken it in the amusing light I'd intended.
I think, in this plea for "full-blooded"-ness, my sister was really expressing a desire to find an identity she could be proud of. But what I don't understand anymore is why being herself isn't good enough.
I'm tired of trying to act like someone I'm not. This is what's making me so cranky lately. I'm trying to act like I'm in the popular crowd in high school, but, you know, I was never cut out for that bullshit anyway. I've always been on the fringes of things. I realize, however, that I love the spotlight. . . what to do? Control the spotlight, so it lights on my own terms. . . either that, or get a webcam.
6.08.2003
OK, to be fair, I haven't exactly been fair to the boyfriend about his employment status.
He works VERY hard at his currently 2 part-time jobs, one of which has a nasty schedule and demanding (and often minor-league demeaning) work, and I made it sound like he was a lazy bum. That's just not true.
It hurt his feelings and I have apologized to him personally for it, but it's only fair to set the entire Internet straight, too.
He works VERY hard at his currently 2 part-time jobs, one of which has a nasty schedule and demanding (and often minor-league demeaning) work, and I made it sound like he was a lazy bum. That's just not true.
It hurt his feelings and I have apologized to him personally for it, but it's only fair to set the entire Internet straight, too.
6.06.2003
I think my lack of sleep is starting to show.
Unlike my boyfriend, I need at least 7 or 8 hours of sleep per night to function at top speed. Of course, I have a demanding & stressful full-time job right now and he's only starting one in a week or two, so that could be the difference I'm feeling. I remember when I thought working part-time was hard! Of course, it was during school, so I had to find time for my schoolwork and my job. . . so it was like working one full-time job.
This semester, I've had a ton of stress because of my 2 classes and 40-hour/week job . . . I don't think I want to do that again anytime soon. OK, so it may take me a million years to get the degree I'm looking at, but, hey, I won't be doing what I'm doing now. I hate what I do. It's no fun and I'm stuck inside all day. This depresses me, so I take it out on other people. People who I care deeply for. . . and who don't deserve that kind of treatment.
I guess the first step in preventing this type of behavior is recognizing the fact that it occurs. Then I can move on to fixing the behavior before it begins.
Ahhh, pop-psychology and psychobabble never sounded so sweet as they do today.
Unlike my boyfriend, I need at least 7 or 8 hours of sleep per night to function at top speed. Of course, I have a demanding & stressful full-time job right now and he's only starting one in a week or two, so that could be the difference I'm feeling. I remember when I thought working part-time was hard! Of course, it was during school, so I had to find time for my schoolwork and my job. . . so it was like working one full-time job.
This semester, I've had a ton of stress because of my 2 classes and 40-hour/week job . . . I don't think I want to do that again anytime soon. OK, so it may take me a million years to get the degree I'm looking at, but, hey, I won't be doing what I'm doing now. I hate what I do. It's no fun and I'm stuck inside all day. This depresses me, so I take it out on other people. People who I care deeply for. . . and who don't deserve that kind of treatment.
I guess the first step in preventing this type of behavior is recognizing the fact that it occurs. Then I can move on to fixing the behavior before it begins.
Ahhh, pop-psychology and psychobabble never sounded so sweet as they do today.
6.04.2003
I just got back from Manhattan. I am cold, tired, soggy and . . . have my name in the rotation to be a contestant on Jeopardy!
My friends and family are all very proud of me.
I am very proud of me.
And I have now added another reason to the list of reasons why I should probably wear makeup more often.
My friends and family are all very proud of me.
I am very proud of me.
And I have now added another reason to the list of reasons why I should probably wear makeup more often.
6.03.2003
Live, from New York, it's. . . the Lizzy Wednesday Show!
All day, all night, all Lizzy.
So I can be center-stage and the STAR of the show . . . because I'm running out of neutral things to say on my other blog and I keep breaking it. *pout*
That's about it for now because I have to dig out my cel phone.
All day, all night, all Lizzy.
So I can be center-stage and the STAR of the show . . . because I'm running out of neutral things to say on my other blog and I keep breaking it. *pout*
That's about it for now because I have to dig out my cel phone.
