and so
i drove home from swimming, as i do all the time now. while swimming, i thought a lot about how shitty i can treat my mom. it's nothing like i beat her, insult her, or steal from her, but considering everything she does for everyone else, it's pathetic. just little things, like being cranky and purposely moving slowly just because she told me to hurry up, or listening but not hearing, things like that. it's horrible because i'm totally aware of it as i'm doing it. and usually, i'm even thinking, "what the hell. you're being such an ass." or "jesus, she's having such a hard time, stop being such a bitch." but then i keep doing it. it's almost as if...all this frustration builds up about everything, then i act like an ass in general. it just happens that i'm only living with her, and only really talk to her.
so at swimming, i was thinking about how good a person she is, and how was it possible that i could be so insensitive to her. i wish i could be more like andrew, he's so level-headed. i remember mark describing us four to jan, one of my cousin's wife (the ones who designed and built their own house). he said he and chris were hot-tempered, i was somewhere between, and andrew is like the glue and peacemaker.
when i was little, i'd always complain about how everyone loved andrew most. we vistited our nanny a long while ago, and her most vivid memory of me was how i would always complain, "you love him more!!!", in chinese, she'd say. when i heard that, all i could say was "ohhhh.."
so basically, i always think, "maybe i should tell my mom how sorry i am that i act like such a brat." but i know i'll act this way again. and she's always valued actions more than words. it's strange, because i know she feels sorry; she thinks she doesn't give us enough attention, time, and therefore, love. simply because she was never the kind of mom that would spend an evening baking cookies for a class bake sale, or volunteer to chaperone for a class trip. really now.
i'm really going to miss my mom. the start of last semester, i'd cry almost every night, thinking how alone i was. i hated calling home and hearing the music blaring loud, and my mom's tired voice. because i knew she felt the same way. you would think that i would feel better, thinking someone i missed missed me too, but it made being sad the more painful. i would cry and say it was because of school, but it was always because i missed thinking i was from a big family.
so i'm extremely looking forward to this weekend. everyone...well, almost everyone, will be home.
i should call him. lately, i've been saying that a lot to myself, and i honestly mean it. but i don't know. am i scared? of what. i think of confronting the feelings, and the fact that things aren't the way they should be. it's fake when we go out, but i like it that way. then he tries to break down "this broken bridge" he calls it, and tells me that i'll regret not trying harder, later, "when it's too late". or he brings up how i never followed through his dream of becoming one of the youngest pilots in canada. i wish i could fly. "you're wasting the opportunity. we won't be able to afford a plane forever. you have a dad who can teach you. universities don't care about swimming, they want to see someone who has something different. think of what they'll say when they see you're a girl, and a pilot. imagine you are teaching one of the admissions people how to fly!"
they always think you're taking sides. i'd like to say that people have no idea what it's like, to feel this way, but how would i know what people have gone through.
i had my english essay read out loud. i felt like i should have felt awkward. in my class, i knew people were expecting me to look sheepish, shy, and almost ashamed. fuckers. it's a generalization of a generalization, but why do people assume that there is such thing as someone with an easier life than theirs? no matter what, everyone has pressures and can be considered to have a shitty life. but it's life, and that's why it's amazing. i don't know what to think when they tell me i'm rich or smart, or whatever. there's no such thing, it's only when compared to something else. so why bother being jealous, trying to make me apologize for it, or even having it factor into your mind? the best thing i've learned is that talent doesn't matter. it was incredible, how much i used that as a measure of others. well. mostly myself. people say to judge people on their character, their values and virtues. but even that stuff is pointless. i've always been told that a sense of self-worth is important, but i think we've screwed that up. why bother creating an ego at all? why should we think anything of ourselves? i'm not saying we should think badly of ourselves, but why does it have to be anything at all? i guess you should know you're worth something, but stop it at that, before you start wondering how much.
i was accepted to western. i will say no if i'm accepted to mac. if mac says no, i will say maybe to western and maybe to waterloo. then i will have to make a choice. most likely western.
they threw in a small scholarship. my mom (seriously) had no reaction when i told her of all this. i didn't feel bad about it, but later, i asked her why and she said she didn't want to say. so i knew it was something about how i should go to u of t. wait, when i told her of the scholarship, she said something about how western wants everyone to go there.
i saw tyler at swimming. it was seriously..i dunno. i was so flustered, i don't know why. i saw him from the back, he was in the kiddie pool (aaahaha) and i just saw his back, and his hair, and was i seriously stopped and stared. i knew he taught at a pool, but i don't know why it didn't register i'd see him eventually, since this is the only pool for at least half an hour.
well now.
after my mom said she didn't want to say, she said. but altered it. after mark's displeasure with trinity college at u of t, and his overal supposed state, my mom is trying really hard to keep her opinions to herself. she blames herself, thinking she forced mark to go to toronto when he didn't want to. but he wanted to. my mom said she doesn't think i'm ready for university. how could i go so early. she's going to be all alone. not even a bird. i started crying. it seems that's the only thing that can make me cry. that is, thinking about leaving. more precisely, thinking of my mom sitting in this chair, alone, all the lights off in the house except in this room. and feeling alone.
honestly. i detest change so much. it's never good.
my aunt from london called. she has such a weird accent. not quite english. for obvious reasons. whenever she calls, my mom says "why are you calling?! go to sleep!" and after 2 hours of so, my aunt finishes by saying "alright then. well the sun is coming up, i should go."
i miss everything.
didn't i hate everything yesterday?
i've got to stop with these annoyingly pessimistic moods.
i feel like no one will read this post, which i like.
