Warning: My Life is Stupid

DISCLAIMER: I am exhausted and upset, so this may be rife with profanity, grammar errors, and nonsensical comments/ideas.

I am not a happy person right now. I'm stuck in that stage where I feel like pretending nothing bad exists and going about my day, but I also feel like crying, but I also ALSO really want to talk about it.

I don't know how much I'll be able to get down without crying and I am NOT going to cry because that will just piss me off even more and it will make things worse. Plus I get all puffy-eyed and ugly and I sweat and feel like puking and it is just gross.

A little background:
I live with my mom. She's a single mother and I am an only child so it's always been just the two of us. Which is kind of cool, because she can be really awesome, except a lot of the time it sucks because she is very strict and there is no other voice or opinion in rules or punishments or whatever, just hers. It is essentially a dictatorship that  I believe is supposed to be benevolent but sometimes isn't. And there's no place for me to go, you know? I can't complain to Dad or Sister or Brother, or even Grandma. And that just gets frustrating. Oh, also, as a general rule, my mom fusses at me (with varying degrees of rage) at least once a day.

So tonight started out with me having to take a survey from my school about harassment and unwanted pursuit. Always a good way to start the night, to be reminded of times when I have been harassed/victimized by strangers and ex-boyfriends. In the middle of my survey, I had to go eat dinner. Now, food is a difficult area for me. I love food (with a couple notable exceptions like blue cheese and asparagus). But food has been a point of contention, frustration and general unpleasantness for a lot of my life. I am a very slender person, and I always have been, aside from the obligatory "fat-stage" as a kid which I went through at about age two. I went through a period when I was younger where I didn't eat very much. I would just get full easily and not have much of an appetite. This caused many fights with my mother. For a couple years, she assumed that (read: accused and harassed me about) I was anorexic. If I would go to the bathroom during a meal, she would ask me when I came back if I had gone and thrown up what I had eaten, or she would come and check on me in the bathroom to make sure I wasn't purging (I also have weak enamel on my teeth, which gave her even more "evidence" that I had multiple eating disorders). These fights and accusations over food upset me so much that I simply would not want to eat, either because I was too upset to be hungry or because I just wanted to avoid the fight altogether. Recently, I haven't been sleeping very well, and when I don't sleep well, I don't eat well, usually. I get hungry at odd times, I get full easily, and sometimes food just doesn't appeal to me at all. Last night, dinner just was not enjoyable. I barely ate anything, and decided I would just pack it up and have the food for lunch today, instead. Well, the same thing happened tonight.

Long story short, my mother yelled at me to just throw dinner out (she does it occasionally when this happens, and I always refuse). Not being in the mood to do this tonight, I walked to the trashcan and dumped everything on the plate in. Which proceeded to piss her off even more. Cutting out much yelling, the next notable event that happened was my mom giving me $200 to buy myself food, which I tried to give back and then, upon her refusal to take it back, also threw into the trash. Dramatic, I know. Cut out more yelling, and we've come to the part where she tells me she'll pay up to $3000 a month (wtf?) for me to find an apartment, and that 3k includes food, rent, utilities, gas, etc (because she "doesn't want me to have to do ANYTHING at all"). Maybe it's just me, but that seems a little ridiculous. Maybe I'm prideful, but I don't like accepting people's money. I've been going through incredibly tough financial times, like tough to the point where I may have to drop out of school because I won't be able to pay my car payment, meaning that I would need to sell my car which would make it so I couldn't get to school. In other words, this is Serious Shit. And like every time Serious Shit happens, Worse Shit comes along with it. My computer has been temperamental, not wanting to stay plugged in. I'll probably need to get it repaired, which costs a whole lot of money. My car needs new rear brakes and new front tires, as well as 30,000 mile service, all of which will cost around $1000. And then I still have my monthly car payments and gas I need to pay for, as well as car registration fees and oil changes and all that crap. I've had friends offer me money, offer to pay for my computer repairs or buy me a new computer or lend me money or whatever, and I don't like that. It makes me feel uncomfortable. I don't want to be in debt to friends. Even when a friend has told me that I have no obligation to repay him, and therefore wouldn't be in debt to him, I still feel uncomfortable. What if something goes wrong in our relationship? Talk about a difficult situation. How can I stop talking to him if he's given me money, or bought me a new computer, or whatever? I've been in romantic relationships that have turned sour where I've felt trapped, unable to get out. I don't want to be in that situation EVER again in any way. I just... I don't want money from people. Not even my mother. I even get uncomfortable and sometimes angry over gifts that I think are too extravagant. So her paying for my rent and stuff just seems ridiculous to me, and I don't want it. I'm probably being stupid, like I always am, but I just don't want it.

I don't know. This post is stupid. I don't even feel like I got anything out but I can't write any more. I'm sorry.

Ugh.

Petrarchan Sonnet

Something interesting I found from two years ago.


I had to write a Petrarchan (Italian) sonnet about the Hero Quest, covering especially the resisting of the call to action, the eventual acceptance and departure, the acknowledgement of difficulties the quest-taker will face, the journey inside one's soul to understand oneself, the discovery of a supreme being, and the facing and acceptance of death. 


An Italian sonnet is in fourteen lines, iambic pentameter, with a strict rhyme scheme. Rereading it now, I don't like it as much as I did when I finished writing it and got my grade back. Ah, well. I am overly critical of my own writing.


Dust to Dust


O woe! I hear the call, I can't resist.
This quest, I do not want, but I must go.
O woe! My country cries for me to show
My strength, my will to fight with sword and fist.

Alas, the time has come, I must persist.
I shall depart to sounds of capon's crow
Like Job, through trials and tricks my faith must grow.
Great heroes called must brave the storms and mist.

But Hark! My Hope! My Head! My Heart does swell!
God’s love to learn and so to not live blind
Progressing on this epic I've been thrust
A journey up though Heaven, down through Hell
A quest deep into Soul, to Heart, to Mind
In death, like Yorick, ending dust to dust.

I am not an actress

For my Shakespeare class this semester, I have to perform in a group of five a thirty minute performance of some Shakespeare play. We chose Twelfth Night. Ugh. Don't get me wrong -- Twelfth Night is my favorite Shakespeare play. I absolutely love it. However.... I am not an actress. And I'm playing Viola, aka THE LEAD ROLE. She has the second most lines in the play, following a character who we're not even including in our production. Great. Cue bad flashbacks to tenth grade, where I had to perform a soliloquy from any work we had read thus far. I chose to perform something from, you guessed it, Twelfth Night. There's a scene in the play where a couple characters play a practical joke on a servant, Malvolio, who is madly in love with his mistress, Olivia, in which they write him a letter "from her" telling Malvolio how Olivia wants him to act and dress around her. It's a hilarious scene, and I could have had a blast with it.... if I didn't screw it up. I walked up in front of the class, started reciting it, aaand promptly forgot my words in the middle of everything. But did I just go on? Noooope. I stood there, mouth agape, probably looking a lot like Billy the Largemouth Bass or whatever that freaky singing fish was called, hemming and hawing a lot, trying to recover my lines.

Jove knows I love; But who? Lips do... uhhhh.... uhhmmmmmm... 

Yeah. It was bad. Really bad. I completely blanked in front of everyone, jeopardizing my grade and looking like an idiot in front of my crush (who later turned out to be the worst boyfriend I ever had... too bad he didn't get turned off by my floundering).

This brings us full-circle back to now, where I am playing the lead role of Twelfth Night opposite a guy who, you guessed it, I'm all hot for. Fabulous. Not only do I have to memorize lines, but I have to get over my whole stupid nervousness thing I get around guys I am attracted to. Thankfully we have a whole semester to get comfortable with each other before we have to perform, and I am feeling more confident and comfortable around him (probably because, even though he is still hot, he's, well, kind of an idiot. I dated a stupid guy once. I won't do that again.), but it's really one more stress I do not need. We chose our scenes today and we are dividing up the lines over the weekend and starting rehearsals on Wednesday. And, because of this, I am home eating Nutella. From the jar. With a spoon. Don't judge, I need the PEA love chemical because I am stressin hardcore.

I figured I would edit and add this in, because it is ridiculous. I have eaten like a quarter of the Nutella jar. I need help.

It just tastes too good.

That's it, I am putting it back in the kitchen. Ridiculous.

First!

Yeah, yeah, creative title, I know. Titles have always been the bane of my existence. I always hated when my teachers would force me to write titles on my essays, especially on in-class essays, where I'm frantically writing my essay in the limited time we were alloted, and I would always leave the title for last, riiight before I turned it in, where I would then write in huge, practically illegible script some terrible title that barely pertained to my essay. I figured when I got into college, I wouldn't be forced to write titles on my papers, but no, I have been forced to write more titles on my papers than I can count.

Well, that's certainly an interesting introduction, ain't it? Let's start over.

Hmm, about me, eh? I am an English major, a second-semester junior in college at this present time, I go to a liberal arts public university in SoCal that is expensive, but at least it's cheaper than a private school, right? I have lots of pets that I love very much, and I am an animal-lover in general, except for spiders. Spiders can go die (except not really, because they're essential to the environment and all that. But all the spiders in my HOUSE can go die). I was raised by a single mother in squalor. We live in a house now, but it's not exactly nice or in the best neighborhood, but at least there's no occasional gunshots in the distance. I love literature a whole lot, and I hope to spend the rest of my life teaching high schoolers to love reading as much as I do. I'm an English tutor at a local community college, and it doesn't pay nearly well enough (something that won't change when I'm a teacher, unfortunately). I like food, and I'm usually eating or wanting to eat. I have been known to burst out into spontaneous solo dance parties, even if there's not music playing, but there's usually music playing so I don't look completely insane. I also sing. Loudly and badly. But I do it anyway. I like music, romantic candle-lit dinners, long walks on the beach... er, wait, this is turning into dating-profile status. I think it's because I'm hungry (see above). So welcome to my head. It's random and sometimes amusing, and I hope you enjoy your stay.

Time for my second breakfast.