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Listening to: From the Choirgirl Hotel. Not for long, though... it's not really matching my mood quite like I was expecting it too.
Currently Reading: Just barely started Jonathan Lethem's Gun, With Occasional Music. Kind of saving it for the train, as well as a stack of others (both fiction and non). Also, I recently read Laurie Notaro's I Love Everybody (and Other Atrocious Lies): True Tales of a Loudmouth Girl (again) in like two days, and peed myself laughing. Highly recommended. I also devoured The Broke Diaries by Angela Nissel in, like, a mere few days. Laughed until I peed. Also highly recommended.
Wishing: income. Lots of it. Other than that, life's pretty good.
I couldn't be more right now.
Buy "Civilised Conversation..." Merchandise! Please? All the cool kids are doing it....
Please help me pay for college by purchasing items from Amazon.com through this link!!
22 June 2003 | 4:21 PM
Scattered Memories....
Okay.
One time, my father gave me two parakeets and a cage. And some food and supplies and things. Even a little book telling me how to take care of them.
This is when I was in middle school, and neither my mother nor I knew that there may have been something wrong with us (depression, anxiety, for instance). Mom was still working 40 hours a week (if not more) at the school district, doing the work of four people.
Sometimes she would come home very agitated and volatile, and I would be afraid of her. I wouldn't ask her for things because I was afraid she would yell at me. I felt like a lot of things were my fault (but they really weren't). I used to appologize all the time, even for things that no one had any control over. People used to get upset with me for appologizing all the time. I would offer my appologies. Vicious cycle.
One of my parakeets died one day. My mother comforted me. The bird was sort of deformed from birth, and the other birds didn't like him so much. I felt very sorry for him, but I understood that it had to happen. I burried him in the back yard outside my window.
The other parakeet got on along fine all by himself. His name was "Blue". He was blue.
One night, I noticed that I was out of seed. I had been not eating lunch for weeks, saving the cash my mother would give me so that I could buy supplies some day. I had some of this cash and was going to ask to go to the store, but my mother was always very volatile. I hesitated to ask until just the right time. It was taking more time than I had expected.
The bird starved to death.
I've always felt responsible. I don't think I've ever told anyone that story before.
Sorry to dump all of this on you, dear readers, I just had to get if off of my chest... I've been brooding over it for a couple of days, so I'm glad it's out there.
Hope everyone's having a great summer!
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Oh, Whoops. - 10:34 PM , 02 September 2005 In Like Hula-Hoops. - 11:28 PM , 12 April 2005 A - Z - 4:37 AM , 26 March 2005 w00t - 12:15 AM , 25 March 2005 Just Let Her Go. - 12:12 AM , 20 March 2005
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