Sunday, December 05, 2004
The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions

...too bad my life is filled with them.

What's not good when you're pms-ing and crampy so that your lower back feels like it belongs to an 80 year old?

Walking around a mall for 3+ freaking hours wearing 3 inch heels, with your parents, one of whom complains an awful lot, listening to cheesy lovery-dovery christmas music that's totally NOT getting you in the mood, trying to find things to buy for yourself and others when you totally do not feel like trying on holiday dresses or crossing things off your chirstmas shopping list, not only becuase you're going through the worst time in your life in a long time but also because you're pms-ing and crampy and your lower back feels like it belongs to an 80 year old. The last thing I wrote before I went to bed last night was, "My kidneys are killing me".

My Saturday in a nutshell.

And then I had to go make my evening worse by talking to someone I really shouldn't have talked to, because it got the both of us thinking about things that have already been said and both of us are stubborn and hurt as hell, so it didn't really make a difference other than the fact that it just made me (and probably her) more frustrated and sad.

Going home for the weekend didn't help as much as I thought it would or as much as everyone else said it would either. My house isn't much warmer than the one in Waterloo (this may be due to the lack of food and malnutrition) and everyone's trying to get me to eat more even though I really. am. not. hungry.

My parents have an interesting way of dealing with me when I'm upset. My mother told me never to admit that you love someone a lot because then things ineveitably go awry and my father thinks I'm a wussy and that I should stop acting like I'm sick. Neither of them understand, probably because they don't really know the whole story. All I can do is nod my head, force myself to get through the nagging and pretend like their daughter isn't a bad person who feels really sad inside.

The few good things about home so far is that I got my laundry done, got to reconnect with some friends, and I really like the keyboard here. It has a nice soft click to it. Despite the nagging, my mum is really glad to have me home for a bit, and to celebrate the occasion she made a special soup (it's an Asian thing). Turtle, abalone and sea cucumber soup. With some dried fruits and berries for sweetening. When I looked in the pot, the entire turtle (it was a small, pot-sized turtle) was just floating in there. I'm sure I don't need to elaborate when I say that it was really, really disturbing. I closed my eyes, held my breath and drank it as fast as I could trying my best not to taste it.

It wasn't bad, as far as creepy amphibian soups go.