December 27, 2003 :: 1:21 a.m.
episode #1,090, in which my parents don't give a whit
I took a whole role of pictures of Adam tonight, on my plain old manual Pentax camera. I haven't used it in ages; my dad gave it to me as a replacement when my beloved Minolta (my very first camera!) was stolen. It's been so long that I was actually a bit iffy on how to operate it properly. I got a nice, new (at the time) manual camera with lots of automatic bells and whistles a few years ago, and so I just used that when I used a camera at all. But when I went to turn it on tonight, the "batteries dead" signal flashed. So I had to use the simple but effective Pentax, which is fine except it's been so long that I may have royally screwed up the film by rewinding it improperly. I totally blanked on the button on the bottom of the camera. Eep. But barring the distinct possibility that my film will come back ruined, I'll actually have some pictures of Adam around soon. Which is amazing, and also sad. Really, shouldn't two people who have been together for over 3 years have a few pictures lying around? We have like 4, and they're all polaroids. I want to have some semblance of a photo album eventually, but for now I'd just like a picture on my desk or something.
But now I need to go out and buy a $15 set of lithium batteries, which is an unpleasant prospect. Although considering that I haven't had to change the batteries once in the roughly 4 years since I got the camera, I really have no right to complain. I just have issues spending $15 on batteries when I could be spending it on developing the film from high school that I still have in my camera bag instead. Or on a book or something. Batteries are simply not that high up on my list of things to spend $15 on.
I hate money. Really, I do. It's such a thorn in my side. No, I'm not starving or sick or homeless. I lead a fairly comfortable life. But there are things that need to be paid for that haven't been. Things like my tuition for the spring semester, which was due 17 days ago. I don't know what my mom is thinking, or not thinking. I don't even know if I'll be able to go back at this point, because all of my classes were dropped after the tuition went unpaid and at least one of them is full up and closed now. And because I have no money of my own, and no feasible way of making $2,000 between now and, well, the next few days, I'm in no position to help myself out. And that's really the thing - I hate being dependent. I have having no means of solving these things myself. I hate being subject to the whims and forgetfulness of other people when it's MY freaking education that's on the line.
I know a lot of people would think I'm nuts if I said that I'd prefer over-bearing, "You must get a college degree or we'll disown you!" parents to the laid-back (read: uninterested, uninvolved), "Whatever you want to do, honey..." parents that I have, but truly, I sometimes would. Because seriously, you'd think they'd pay a little more attention to their one and only child to ever enter into higher education. Pretend to care. Try to be a smidge more involved than, say, strangers in Istanbul. Attempt to see past the monetary issues and recognize the fact that their daughter is actually trying to make something of her life. Right? Is that really too much to ask? Apparently so. And beyond just being annoying on, oh, that surface level where I may not get to go back to school in the spring, it does hurt. It's like what I do doesn't make a damn bit of difference. I could become a fuzzy-headed heroine addict or have 5 kids to 5 different guys or sell myself on the street for all they seem to care.
Maybe it's because I'm the middle kid, or the good kid, or, in my dad's case, the 6th kid. Maybe it's because I've made it to 20 with no criminal record. Whatever the reason, it seems like my parents decided long ago that I don't need involvement to get by. Which is true, to an extent. I don't need a curfew or heavy strictness or frequent piss tests. But it would be nice if they took an interest sometimes, is all I'm saying. Just because I'm The Good One doesn't mean I can be shooed into a corner and ignored. I totally understand rebellion, really. It gets attention. And attention is something that I do not get a lot of. My mom was being all overly-interested in my emotional well-being for a while after she got a glimpse of my arms, but her concern has died down. Which in this instance is perfectly fine, because I never intended for her to see that in the first place. And it wasn't real, anyway. The attention. It was forced, expected, necessary. It wasn't really even attention, more like worry, concern, fear. And maybe that's enough for some people, the ones who flaunt their intimate relationship with peril and unbalance so publicly. But that's not me, and that's now what I want. I don't want my parents to worry about me. I don't want anyone to worry me. I just want them to make some attempt to care.
Ah, family life. No wonder I want to live far, far away with no children and limited contact. Llamas would be nice, too. I could spin yarn from their wool and make llama mittens.
In other, less angsty news, the rest of my family unit is leaving for Florida tomorrow. Or today, technically. I pray to god (figuratively speaking) that they leave me money for groceries or let me go shopping before they leave, because I am in dire need of vegetarian/low-fat goods. Because now that christmas is over and it's taken all of its associated junk food with it, I can get back on the weight-loss wagon. I'm fairly sure I've gained a pound or two in the last few days, but that's a bargain considering how I ate. I always look back on these binge-filled holidays and think that I never, ever want to eat like that again. But as soon as the next festive occasion comes along, I'm right back to stuffing my face like a starving Ethiopian let loose in the produce section of a grocery store. Only with cookies and pie instead of grapes and apples. Obviously. But I'll do fine, provided I'm able to stock up on the appropriate foodstuffs before they head off to sunnier shores. It'll be just me and the animals for the next week or so, which is kind of nice but very lonely. Adam's mom is going away for a week starting December 31st, but I won't be able to sleep there until my family gets back because I'll need to take care of the dog and cats. And Adam won't stay here, as much as I'd love him to. It's... a thing. A constant source of tension thing. But there's no reason to poke that sore spot again, really, so watch in amazement as I step away and let it go.
Anyway, it's bedtime. I'll update on the status of Project Lonely Pet-Sitter as details become available.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005