Vacation: I've Missed You so Much

Okay, so I haven't updated in the last couple of weeks. There's a very good reason for that, they're called finals and the weeks leading to finals. The most mind-numbing, soul sucking last couple of weeks of the semester. Spring finals are perhaps the worst because it's the middle of allergy season.

The past couple of weeks I have been a sneezing, sniveling, mess of a person. And constantly sleepy throughout. At least I get a couple of months off from school. Didn't get all my grades back just yet, but so far I got two As and a B. Not as great as I did last semester, but pretty good over all.

A lesson learned

I don't know if this really qualifies, but around the time I was 10 or so, I was invited to a birthday party. The girl's name in question was named Sylvia, but I fail to recall anything other than she was Argentinian and had an older brother. We had talked from time to time and would sometimes hang out in the cement playground in the back of our apartment building.



The party was your standard children's birthday party. But for some reason she and a group of her friends decided to exclude me from the group. I wasn't allowed to be near them, I wasn't allowed to talk to them or participate in any of their activities. It was cruel of them, and it's something that stands out to me as a testament of a child's cruelty.



I left the party in tears, and I hated her ever since.

Talking

So I've talked to my parents. Well mostly my father, who is more prone to explaining things in a calm and rational manner. Although I still feel the way I do, it's made me understand their view point a little bit better, and has helped me feel capable of speaking to my mother. Although my father has rather unrealistic expectations of a curfew (9pm was his first suggestion, it's ridiculous. 10:30 isn't much better), he has his reasons. He's concerned about me. My mother expects me to know what she thinks is right and wrong without her telling me.

I can talk to my father. I cannot talk to my mother. Especially after today, when she accused me of trying to manipulate her by my reaction. Yes, it may have been over-dramatic, but what was I supposed to think her throwing me out of the house meant? She expects me to completely understand her viewpoint and using petty emotional manipulation in order to get my way?

It's insane, and something she tries to bring up every time she says something that makes me cry. For everyone out there, I can't cry on cue. I also can't make myself eventually cry. She feels guilty, but doesn't think that she should. So she thinks that I'm trying to emotionally manipulate her. She never tries to actually talk to me.

The relationship between me and my mother is fucked up. There are times when she treats me like an equal, mostly because she's looking for a way to deal with my brothers, and there are other times where she likes to act like she's supreme ruler and no one should question her. She also likes to act like everyone else thinks like she does, even if she does admit on occasion that not everyone does. It's confusing, and I would like a mother that takes time to explain things to me and gives me a chance to express myself emotionally without accusing me of manipulation. Also for her to genuinely comfort me when I feel distraught.

I'm not intentionally putting down my mother. She does everything she has to in order to keep us fed and comfortable. She's a good mother because she pushes me and my brothers to do well in school and to get an education, and makes sure that we take advantage of the opportunities presented to us. The problem, at least between her and I, is that we have two completely different viewpoints in life. We disagree on a lot of things and that makes it very hard to get along.

New Name

So I've changed the name of my blog. In my first post, I mentioned that I was naming the blog Mari-Cris as an homage to my mother, who I felt that I didn't give enough credit to. It's still true, I don't give her enough credit. She works tirelessly for me and my brothers, makes sure we take advantage of every opportunity, and pushes us to do well in school in order to do better than she has in life. Although she is hardly home due to her job, she is an overall good mother.

Tonight we had a fight. A fight that led me to change the name of this blog.

We were talking about boundaries, because she has some unrealistic expectations about when I should be home. I'm not coming home at 2 in the morning and complaining about her saying it's too late. I come home at 15 minutes before 10 in the evening and she says it's too late. We got into an argument which led me to ask what her boundaries were because how I am supposed to follow her rules if I don't know what they are? Maybe she thinks I'm psychic or something.

This led to a rather confusing boundary of hers.

Apparently if I decide to spend the night at my boyfriend's house then I better be prepared to live with him. The implication being that she will kick me out of the house if I sleep over his house. It's not even about having sex. Apparently if I have sex with him and go home, it's fine but if sleep over I get kicked out. It's a confusing rule with no reason to it. I asked her why, and she gave no other reason other than I am disrespecting my home.

I don't understand this.

Maybe it's because me and my mother have two vastly different ways of looking at things. She was raised in Guatemala for most of her formative years, coming over to the United States when she was in her twenties. I was raised in the United States, mostly by my grandmother, but have adopted most of the cultural norms. I am very much an American in my way of thinking. Despite our differences I still find it completely unbelievable and very hurtful that she would kick me out for sleeping over at my boyfriend's house.

For me, kicking your child out of your home is the same as kicking them out of your life. I don't know if she views it the same way as I do, but that's how I view it. It's not something that you can take back when you feel guilty about it.

I'm not saying that there is no reason to kick your child out of your house. There are reasons, but I feel that the reason my mother has given me is not enough to merit that action. It's like she's saying: this is how much I love you and respect you.

I know she's not saying it, and that's probably not even how she feels. But it feels like it. Mostly because I know that this would not even be an issue with my two younger brothers. It's not as if I am a bad or a difficult daughter. I get good grades, I follow her rules, I don't behave badly or speak to her with disrespect.

Her saying this really hurts me and on some level I have lost a good deal of respect that I have for her. That she won't even acknowledge my pain, and ask me why I would cry over this hurts me even more.

Hours later and I'm still crying just writing about this.

Zombie Attack Survival

(Question on Plinky: What will you do when the zombies come?)

The most obvious thing to do is stock up on weapons, perhaps invest in a flamethrower. We should also brush up on the zombie movies, and point out central weaknesses. Find high ground and make sure that all exits are securely bolted. Get animals or bugs that eat dead, rotting flesh.

If all else fails we pretend to join their ranks until we reach an unaffected area.

Mutant Babies and Such

It's midterms week for me. Not to say that all my classes are giving midterms, just the ones I don't want to do badly in.

Now I am not by any means a calm person. Just take a look at the cuticles on my right thumb and my habit of slowly ripping them off. Although I am trying to stop, it just leads to another anxiety reducing habit. It could be chewing my nails (something I haven't done for a while) or destroying the caps of my pens. I have an oral fixation (no this does not mean I like giving head, or that I can do it particularly well); biting on things reduces my anxiety.

I live with small anxieties everyday, usually not very stressful for me. But this week kicked my ass. I just can't handle large amounts of stress. Between my taking the CPE (I need to pass it to graduate) and two tests in one day (one of which was a midterm), it was almost too much for me to handle. The added stress has also probably caused my period to be late. Add the stress from that aspect in my life, and the stress is too much for me to handle.

Now, I relatively sure that I'm not pregnant. Of course I'm not a hundred percent sure, which is why I might end up taking a pregnancy test tomorrow. I'm still getting all the 'signs' from my body that I'm getting my period, and the odds of getting pregnant without penetration are pretty slim. This isn't the first time I was late because of stress, but this time there is a higher risk of pregnancy. The dreams of babies clawing their way out of my uterus and trying to eat me aren't helping the stress either.

My brain can't take the added stress of being late and neither can my body, if the slight cold and sinus headache I have are anything to go by. As soon as I finally get a new doctor (have to stop seeing a pediatrician now, I'm too old) I'm getting birth control pills.

That Annoying Buzzing in Your Ear

This is something that I've been meaning to write about for a while: People who just won't shut up in the middle of a lecture hall when the teacher is speaking.

It's annoying as hell, and it's becoming a very annoying problem, especially in my Sociology 101 class. It's bad enough that I'm concentrating on the lecture so I won't fail the midterm, but when there are two people in front of me debating the merits of PSP games I want to club them over the head with my messenger bag.

It's annoying, and more importantly it's distracting. College is expensive, and I don't need these people fucking up my GPA.