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Archive for November, 2009
okay. i said i’d add more to the two previous posts. but. um. i changed my mind. because i was about to unleash my wrath about other people, and that really is not necessary. people do annoy me, but i shall not pretend that i’m so much holier than them, as if i don’t have any faults myself. because i do have many and probably annoy everyone around me, yet they don’t complain about it. so i shall keep those thoughts to myself. and punish myself for even *thinking* like that. 😦
i’m such a not nice girl that it kills me sometimes. when did i get to be like that? ’tis what happens when you’re getting old and cranky, i suppose. 😦 i just get so sad when i realize how much of life is passing by. and what do i have to show for it? *sigh*
that’s not a nice thing to think about, either. so what can i think about?
because I am getting old, I got to sit outside on a bench and watch people walk by, rather than walking around like healthy young people were. I observed many different things on that bench about people, mostly the dynamics. it made me wonder how I’m perceived by the others, especially the way I react to whom I’m with. it was very interesting. I’ll have to come back later and jot them down though because as usual, my mind is thinking too fast for my thumbs.
a couple of months ago I read a really good book, drive. I’ll have to write more about it when I’m not on my phone but I’ll just say the book frightened me. I’m seriously scared about the future with the type of children we are raising. I see it with my young cousins, with my niece and nephew. and I’m afraid.
but more later. difficult to lay out my thoughts on the phone. mind works too fast for my thumbs and the annoying autocorrect. 😛
argh. for the past three days, the upstairs neighbor has been using my stall for her guest. it’s starting to really get on my nerves. yes, it’s an empty stall because i only have one car, and each unit has 2 stalls. so is it mean of me to not want them using my extra stall? it is just sitting unused…however, there are also 6 visitor parking stalls, sitting available, on the opposite side of the parking lot. it just gets to me that they have the gall to just use the stall without even asking. well, no one else is using it, so why don’t you? is it wrong for me to feel so protective over my space? i mean, in the past, one of the neighbors offered to pay me monthly for use of my stall, which you know, at least he asked. but my upstairs neighbor doesn’t even bother to ask. her guests just park there.
what also irritates me is that they park in BOTH of my stalls. they only move one when they see me waiting for my stall, and they take their time moving it, as well. even though they see me there, they just stand there talking to whomever’s in the car or on the porch, and won’t move until their conversation is done. i’m a meek person, so i won’t go out and ask them to move. especially since they are all pretty large people. and the last thing i want to do, as a single person living in a complex, is to anger my neighbors! you never know when you may need their help. but i really hate being taken advantage of. even though the manager has offered to kick people out of the stall himself, i just feel like … well they’re gonna know who was complaining, because they know that stall belongs to me. and i don’t want that ill feeling between us. also, the manager had offered that before we had that incident in my building and i didn’t want him to come into my apartment, and he had to threaten to come in, and so i don’t know how he feels toward me, either. maybe he doesn’t *want* to help me now, you know? aiyiyiyi.
kinda makes me want to get a second car so i can leave it in that stall and prevent others from parking in there just because it’s empty. i also want to park it as close to one line as possible, since THAT neighbor likes to park over the line of her stall into my stall all the time. hello. the lines are not suggestions. i mean, come on. practice a little parking etiquette, please. i know that makes me angry because i take the extra time out to make sure i’m perfectly aligned in between the two lines so not to be an inconvenience to my neighbors, however, they are not showing the same courtesy back to me. they couldn’t care less! they just swing their big ol’ cars into their general area and walk away. that inequality is something that tips my libra scales totally out of whack.
and i don’t know. am i just being mean to not want someone to use what’s mine, even if i don’t use it myself? do i need to stop being vengeful, and practice being kind, especially on a holiday about sharing and being thankful?
sigh. it’s times like these when i curse my independent streak and wish i had a big, burly man who will assert himself and help a poor little meek girl like me. 😦
i spent all day watching episodes online of the gilmore girls. i don’t know why. but after the first few from the first season, i started to get nostalgic. i started to think about my own life, making that transition from public school to private school, though i was much younger than rory when i changed schools. well, not much younger. but i kinda remember being like her. of course, i wasn’t nearly as smart as she was, and i was nowhere as pretty as she was, but i could see similarities like where other girls in 6th grade were already wearing makeup and painting their nails and wearing bras and giggling about boys, i was just sitting there, focused on my schoolwork, actually DOING my schoolwork in class, while they just kinda looked over the shoulder at me and was like “eh.” i mean, they weren’t mean at all, in fact, a few times, a couple of them would stick up for me, but it was just obvious we just ran in different leagues. we were a small school, where everyone knew everyone, and i had a couple of friends i hung about with, but mostly, i just minded my own business. kept my head down, did what i was supposed to do, stayed out of trouble. everything just seemed routine–that’s just the way things were supposed to be.
towards the middle of my 6th grade year, i saw things start to change. the intermediate school in my district was a bit rough, and my parents were worried about me going there. especially in my 6th grade year, the school was in the news a lot because of all the gang-related violence that was going on. in fact, the boy i had a mini-crush on was involved in one side of that gang, and we kinda looked at him with awe. but anyway, i know there was talk among my parents about what to do. i know my dad, who went to a private school, was pushing his alma mater, while my mom, who went to public school, and as she likes to point out, “did just fine there,” didn’t see how we would be able to afford sending me to a private school, and though our intermediate was a bit scary, she said i’d survive. but they did try me out. i remember feeling such pressure because my dad went to that school, and he was so proud of that fact, and nothing would make him happier than to have his offspring attend the school. and i’m a person who doesn’t like to disappoint people, especially my parents! so for days before the test, i’d lock myself in the bathroom and just cry for the tremendous pressure i felt that i needed to get into this school. i HAD to. and then i’d start to doubt myself and think what if i don’t? my dad’s going to be so mad… and i’d just sit in the bathroom sobbing my eyes out. even on the day i had to take the test, i cried and cried and cried. i managed to compose myself enough that i could get in the car as my dad drove me up and was actually doing fine–until he started saying, “see how nice this school is? wouldn’t it be good to come to this school? all the opportunities you’d have…” and that made me start to sniffle, which made my dad mad. “why are you crying?” he shouted. which of course, just made me cry even more! so i got shouted at some more, with my mom trying to tell him that he’s stressing me out, and they dropped me off at the gym where lots of other bewildered children were, waiting to take their test, as well. i took a deep breath and walked into the gym–and straight into the bathroom, so i could wash my face 🙂 and calm myself down. then i walked into the testing area. i actually saw some of the people i had gone to camp with the year before, and some of my classmates from school, so i felt better. i went in, said a prayer, and waited for instructions. i looked around nervously and thought, wow. look at all these people applying. how many of them were going to get in? how many of them would i have to do better than so i could get in? i was so worried, but i was there, and i just kept replaying my mom’s words in my mind over and over — “even if you don’t make it, you’ll do just fine at public school. look at me–i did good. you will, too, no matter where you go.” that, to me, meant that no matter if i got in or not, she’d still love me. my dad wouldn’t 😀 … but my mom would. 🙂
then i kinda just forgot about it. the next monday, the others who were there had asked me how was it, and i said it was alright, and they were like yeah. but then i forgot about it, for about a month, until i got a notice that i had to go back for an interview now. yikes. i knew even back then that that was not my strength! but i didn’t cry at all in the days prior to my interview. my dad coached me with answers to questions they actually didn’t even ask, heh, so i guess i felt more confident. i just went in and smiled. i was able to answer all their questions, so i left feeling i didn’t do too bad. and then i forgot about it. that was january.
in late april, my dad went out to check the mail. i could hear a shout as he came back into the door, and we all wondered what was up, and we all ran to him at the door. he was standing there, with a big manila envelope in his hand, and a big smile on his face. i had no idea what that meant (not being smart enough to check out the return address to see who it was from) but my mom asked, “she got in?” and he said, “it’s a big envelope! they wouldn’t send a ‘thank you but no thank you’ in a big envelope!” he tossed the other letters to the side and tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter. i’ll never forget the smile that spread across his face. he was beaming. then he passed the letter to my mom. “you’re in!” he told me. “you did it!” i was stunned. my dad then ran to the phone and started calling everyone he knew to brag that i had gotten in. he even made my mom call her side of the family, even though she protested, “but they don’t care…” (and her family really didn’t 😛 ) she was happy for me, but i could tell she was worried about the tuition (she later admitted that she cried tears of joy when she got the letter saying i would receive a full scholarship to attend the school). i felt nothing but relief. rory was happy that she got in so she could further her education and have a better chance to get into harvard — i was happy because my dad was happy. heh. i guess we couldn’t be further apart.
i remember going to school on the monday that followed. the sixth grade classrooms were on the second floor, and as i walked with my little sisters to their classrooms, the popular girls called down from the 2nd floor, “so? did you get in?” i remember looking up at them–there were about 8 of them, all peering down at me–and shyly nodding. to my surprise, they all whooped and hollered, and called down, “congratulations!” wow. i even had my test results with me, because my atla teacher was interested in how i scored, since i said the language arts portion was hard. her jaw dropped as she saw my scores. all she could say was “wow.” i know she was as perplexed as i was with my score, because she knew as well as i did that i was not the best student in atla, and it was a wonder i even qualifed for atla! but in the following weeks, i noticed a change. while the other students talked about going to the intermediate school, i kinda felt left out, especially since now they were kinda talking to me more. when the 6th graders went on a field trip to the intermediate school so they’d know what to expect, i had to stay back with 2 others, one who i think ended up going to the same private school as our president, and i’m not sure where the other one went. i just remember staying back, and since all of us happened to be in atla, we just hung out in the atla room. it was then that it dawned on me that i wouldn’t know a majority of people who would be going to my new school–not like the others, who were all traveling together to their new school to check it out–i’d know no one! i started having mixed feelings. all my friends–as well as the boy i crushed on–were going to another school, and i wasn’t going to join them. what was going to happen?
unlike rory, i didn’t start late and had to catch up. we all started the same, so i guess i had it easier then. but like her, i managed to keep my focus and continue to do my work. after all, just because i got in, didn’t mean i’d stay in–i had to earn my keep. and i did end up doing very well at that school, and came to love and appreciate it for all it offered. who knew that soon, i would be feeling the same thing for my own son.
with my son, at first, i wasn’t going to apply him. in fact, i kinda took the same view as my mom–while it’d be nice if he went, it’d also be great if he stayed in public school–i teach at a public school, i should know! and again, look at my mom! but at the last minute, i did decide to apply him. and i learned from my experience and didn’t stress him out at all. i never even brought up the fact that i had gone to that school, and that he was testing to go to the school–“you’re just going to be playing a few games with aunty,” i told him–until after i had learned he got in. at first, i thought he didn’t, because i didn’t get a big manila envelope. i got the small white one. oh well, i thought. that’s okay. he’s doing great at his (public) school right now. and i was content to keep him there. the only reason i tried him was because it was my alma mater–it wasn’t like i was going to shop around for other private schools to send him to. but then i opened the letter, and saw the word “congratulations!” and i dissolved into tears. i felt that same pride my dad must’ve felt. my boy! at my alma mater! wow.
so now he’s following in my footsteps, as i had my dad’s. and i’m now following my dad’s as a parent, feeling that same pride, that same loyalty, to a school that took care of me and let me take off and soar. even amidst the controversies there, i will still follow.
whoops. i originally titled this ravished. heh. uh, nope. brain’s mixing up connections there. 😛
but seriously, what’s up with that? i just hunger for certain things. and not just crave, but like … mmmmmmmgggggrrrr. you know? and even if i do get it, it’s doesn’t seem to satisfy the want. i still want it! what is wrong here? my mind is playing horrible tricks on me. 😦
i was taught skills that one would think would make me a good wife — i can sew my own clothes or mend store-bought ones, i can decorate the home, i cook, bake, love, care, look after, tend to — but all that really does not matter. guys don’t want any of those things. all they want is someone who ***** **** ****.
ugh. don’t you hate it when you’re trying to find something you just had in your hands yesterday and now it seems to have disappeared off the face of this earth?!?! I have looked and looked and looked. and this place is nowhere as disorganized as my own place is. yet I can’t find it?!?! I’m on a sewing streak to take care of some presents, and I had a silky ribbon that I was just looking at yesterday to see how I was going to incorporate it into the dress, and now that I’m ready for the ribbon…it has disappeared. I overturned two rooms looking for it–nada! gosh where could it have gone?!?! it’s driving me nuts!!!!!
headache and on phone (which I’ll have to do for a while ) so doing a quick entry. I never understood the big deal of midlife crisis but I think I’m fully into one. Such depressing thoughts enter my mind! Drives me crazy. I can see why though now how people go out and try to reclaim their youth. Argh. I live in doldrum city, I swear.