Casting shadows.

I'm sorry you're having to deal with so much hassle with them, but I had to go through the same, just in different ways. You just gotta deal.

There's always a catch-22 with both the older and younger child. And it's even worse for a girl and boy. I was pressured to set high standards for you to follow, but they've come to learn it's not just the tangible standards. It's more than test scores and school activity. It's character, etiquette, integrity....You'll learn that's what it takes to be a stable human being. I know I never had to do what they're making you do, but I was pro-active at that age. I never waited for a "go out and..." line from them. I just did. And now they're expecting you to do the same.

Don't forget that the first child is also the experimental dummy. You now have more privileges compared to me. New car, more out time, no curfew. Their mistakes were one me, and they saw how I rebelled those few years, before the better years. Maybe that could have had a bearing on who I am today. I get phone calls frequently requesting advice on how to push you to where I am, but here's not much I can say. I went through this myself. Growing up and living your life has nothing to do with me.

No shame.

It can be a lot like stage fright. They expect so much of me. If I mess up, it'll mean I didn't deliver. What will people think?

It's hard asking for help. It's like you're admitting weakness. Helplessness. But I've come to admire humbleness. I don't see it as weakness, but rather a strength of integrity. It's admitting that there are people more knowledgeable than you, not that you're weak. Pretending to be someone you're not justified to be will surely eventually crumble. I'm proud of him.


I finally went to Hobby Lobby for some paintbrushes, and stumbled upon a book about scratchboard art. I remember I had gotten a sample from the Co-op before, and was inspired to go home and try it out. It was bizarre and opposite. I had to leave the dark and shadows alone where I usually would lay on paint.

I'm wasting so much time with what I enjoy doing, I forget that I'm supposed to be doing something worthwhile.

Cheezy rain.

Tonight's heavy rain made me reminisce.

A friend's mom did a gig at Dunn Bros. that night and we came to support her. We stayed until the coffee shop kicked us out but still didn't want to go our separate ways just yet. Time was dwindling and we'd be thrown out of the comforts of Saginaw too soon. So we decided to go to the park and sit on the swings to complain about life some more. We sat around daring the rain to come, and when it did, we didn't even rush back to the shelter of my car. It poured by the time we got back to his house and we ended up spending hours on his front porch because it was 'unsafe to drive in this heavy rain.' It was mostly me complaining and him with, "oh come on... You'll be fine...It's going to be no problem..."

"But you're full of confidence and I...I...reek of estrogen."

I'm at that state of panic yet again. It feels like time is moving too slow, but the years are going too fast. Last week I was asked what year of college I was in. I replied, "Oh, I'm second...uh,..er..third year." I'm supposed to be graduating next year. I really rather be back under a porch during a downpour. It was more comfortable and fun pretending to be living behind a waterfall with a good friend.

Melons

"You volunteer in NICU? I'm headed there right now to baptize one of the babies." He showed me a nifty shortcut to the NICU ward, scanned us in, and went off to one of the bays.

Bay 4 in the back right corner was a baby with the most severe case of cleft palette this NICU has seen. But this was not the underlying cause for concern. Upon laying down, the baby's head would not retain it's round shape but would slightly flatten with surface contact. The nurse had described the softness of its head like an over-ripe cantaloupe. The baby had been constantly streamed with pain medication for internal bleeding in its brain.

Just one incubation over was just another Preemie like the majority of newborns in NICU. Until her MRIs came in. Turns out she only developed her brain stem and a small portion of her cerebellum. The rest of her cranium is fluid. I was able to talk to the mother. She seemed okay, and I didn't understand how she was still able to give me a smile. Her baby was baptized today and will be transported to hospice on Wednesday to die.

I thought about how these babies 'need' the anesthetics and hospice provisions. What can they feel or know as a newborn? It was like this principle of ethics hit me square in the face and I decided you don't need to put a memory or thought to pain to suffer.

Get him fired and deported.

She was my age, bleached blonde, about 34B, wearing a Texas State shirt with short shorts and preoccupied with texting on her phone. She had no idea what was going on with her car and probably was only there because Daddy told her she needs to maintain her new Mitsubitchy. We were all standing in the shade and she was about 2 feet from us. "Penzoil, okay?"

"Um...yea, whatever's fine. I wouldn't know," she replied without looking up from her phone.

He dropped his voice, "I'd like to give you a discount today, also."

"Oh thank you!" and she flashed him a smile.

"You are very welcome. Sign here for me." I don't think they knew we heard their transaction.

We were up next. He checked the pin number on my car and such, and came back with his little digital thingymabob. In a haughty voice, my dad goes, "So what discount to I get today?!"

"Aww no, I can't just give discounts."

"Oh, no? Why not?"

"Well, I'm not a manager."

I did not hear him wrong. Absolutely disgusting.

He just doesn't get it.

"We're you bored?"

I shrugged. "They're your friends and I'm not allowed to drink, so I dunno."

"Oh, you could've drank with them."

"Oh really? I remember your words before as 'if you had even one beer, I'd break up with you in a heartbeat.'"

"Well these were my friends. I know them."

I could drink with his friends but not mine. I only have friends who are his friends. I pointed this out and he convoluted it to at least 3 completely different irrelevant arguments. "It seems like all the times you drank, it ends up bad...I thought you grew up from this...What's the point anyway?"

"It's not about drinking. It's about not being able to have friends who aren't your friends." It bounced back and forth a few more times and he brought up her again. The past again. Priorities again.

Later that night, still both grumpy, he shoved me off the bed into my desk/ chair to get to the bathroom. I snapped. "When I try to get around you, you don't have the fucking courtesy to make an effort to move or make it easier for me! But you shove me off my own damn bed?!" He realized what happened and apologized immediately in a small awkward voice. I wasn't sure what to do next, so I left the room and made some food.

I've never had so many complications with a boyfriend, and never to these magnitudes, but we're still together. We talked about how we've been together for a year and 7 months and how it's going on to 2 years. After deliberation, I still love him. It's strange, and I confuse myself about this many a times. I've heard before that arguments build strong relationships, but...they're so....tiresome.

Worst week evarrr.

One hot summer when I was about 8, my dad put some soda on ice cream and offered it to me while I was jumping on the trampoline. It looked frothy and weird, but was really really good and refreshing. That was my first ice cream float, and I thought he was a genius. I wonder if the original guy that poured soda on ice cream did that on accident. He probably had a good day afterwards.

We had a strange circular argument about luck and things "happening for a reason." I know that it's common in religion to believe that a divine figure has set and laid out everything in our life, and an accident only looked like so to human eyes. But to a guy in the sky, your broken leg was next up on your life schedule. Then that means there are no "wrong/right place at the wrong/ right time" scenarios. No "coincidences." That can't be right.

Putting religion aside, if you find a Jefferson on the floor during a walk in the park, a lot of people would say it's your good luck, someone else's bad luck. But he blamed it on that person's ignorance/ stupidity. Not luck. Same with car 'accidents'. Some will say that it was terrible luck that you happened to be the car nearby, but you can still blame it on someone else's stupidity. But isn't it bad coincidence that you were at the exact wrong place at the exact wrong time?

It's been somewhat bothering me. Everything makes sense, but the argument is circular.

Anyway, people have been complaining of a terrible week, whether it be bad luck, stupidity, Karma, or the hand of God(s). Well....I know at least one thing can clearly be blamed on stupidity. It's been really bumming him out. He's been completely bummed since the result of his test, and it's strange to see him like that. He started worrying about the future and probable failure, etc. I told him perhaps it's a slice of humble pie, but he wouldn't have any of it. Oh well. I can only try, I suppose. Am I terrible to think he deserved this last week?