Tag Archives: dad

suddenly, family drama

14 Jul

We’ve been having some family drama and I haven’t felt like writing about it. It’ll probably come out on it’s own eventually. I mean, here.

I kind of find I don’t enjoy setting out and writing about what I’ve done. Maybe because it’s enough to have done it without having to relive it and write about it. It’s exhausting to do it twice. Especially when it’s not too interesting. Or if it will be something of a downer.

No I think what it is, is that it’s tiring to consider that I have to transcribe the emotions and vague thoughts and ideas to text, and explain and define and it’s nice as recordings but….nah. On top of that, writing it down makes it more concrete as a memory. I’d rather not have this as put down in stone in my mind. This can remain faint, or fade over time. Negative events are things that make a strong enough impression right? They set in your mind and remain more easily than candid, easy, or happy times. Maybe why those who have experienced bad events appreciate peace the more so…..they learn to….hummmm~~~~

Anyways, it was monday, I think….because sunday would’ve been my father’s off-day…..and we had gone to an amusement park but initially planned to go to some resort/hotel and/or landmark thing, and he’d have needed monday in order to do that too…..yeah. So it was monday. And my sister and I came back from my aunt’s tuesday night.

I closed this for a bit because I thought someone was coming in. Tense! It was very panicked. haha

Yeah well…..I’m more worried for the kids. Though they seem to be handling it like I had…..they don’t seem to care much either. Furthermore it looks like Salmon used the opportunity to steal his mother’s credit card to get microsoft points or something….and he got in trouble….and his lies are crumbling around him and he’s panicking…..I’m worried he’s some sort of psychopath sometimes. He can be quite manipulative. Is that a common fear? Good thing daddy won’t stand for his bullshit, but….

My schedule has kinda been left aside too for a while, but I think I should pick it back up again because it seems unnecessary to do so. I was wondering why I’d left it, and I realized it was because I’d no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, or for the rest of the time that I’m here (the summer). And it made me realize how stable my life had been, and how I’d taken it for granted, and how necessary and useful something like that can be. A stable life. Stability, in general. It’s great stuff, haha. But seriously….

dot dot dot.

Anyway, yeah it looks like my stepmother and dad might be getting divorced. Same bullshit you’d expect, my dad thrown in, his unpredictability thrown in, patterns, silence, both still in the house…..that kind of everything is changing mentality but everything is nearly exactly the same in practice…..I hate this bullshit. My dad’s rants about marriage and his wives, hah, my stepmom’s typical derailing a normal conversation into a moral and humanist rant that’s really about my dad but it feels a bit darker now….and sad. Uncertainty, doubt….he talked to my mom about it….poor mom.

I think I’d used books as my “crutch” before, without realizing….my stepmom made a related comment today 🙂 something along the lines of, when you read your focus is on the book, not around you, what’s going on in there….you can’t be distracted or have bad thoughts as a result….and I replied ‘it depends on the book’ haha

my sister kind of laughed, she said ‘yeah but’ and explained, I knew what she meant, etc. I know it would’ve been more….stylish, to leave this unnecessary bit out, but I think I’ve always felt these bits were important. It’s messier and not cool, but it’s more life. Seriously though, the little misunderstandings and clearing up and the person defending their thought, it’s ego and….well, movies….life isn’t style, man, it’s punctuated by style. Even with style, someone’s ego is always the butt of their comment. I kind of like Lestrade’s interaction with Sherlock in The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor  for that, he’s at the butt of his jokes, but he’s constantly defending himself and it shows his frustration, resentment, energy, especially after his hard work, and it’s more real. Than just, ‘ooh snarky comment’ looooool and swish of the cape, magician’s dust, nah. Lestrade has a life too, dammit.

…what. Okay bye. Wait no, I’ve also felt the imaginary burden of recording these dramatic events lessened by my sister recording everything exactly as she perceived it, with my answering her questions about the time and such, in ms notepad. She might put it in her blog. Apparently, as she said at the time, in case they ask her about it in court xD I don’t know how a typical divorce goes, because my parent’s wasn’t typical, from what I hear, but this sort of comment would probably have been understandable for their’s. Maybe for a messy one, it was. She also wanted to do so when it was fresh in her mind….it was the morning after…..I woke up and had this dynamite of marriage drama explode in my face, it was completely unexpected. Then again, it usually is, with them. Or maybe it’s with my dad….I somehow just walk into it….

dot dot dot! I know it’s called an elipsies! Okay bye, I hear someone mentioning upstairs/my-location. K, bye.

The Story of the Stripe-Painting Mice

6 Aug

http://friendshiptale.wordpress.com/about/

^Response to this. 🙂

The only story I ever remember that I wrote by whim and finished was when I was 9 and trying to impress my dad. I made two, but the one I remember was called “The Stripe-Painting Mice,” with illustrations and everything.

I only had a blue pen and notebook paper since my dad didn’t have his sons yet, so there weren’t crayons and other kid stuff (except for videos) laying around his house.

The story….Welll, when I look back on it, I wonder if my paranoia was some sort of dormant trait of mine waiting until I was self-conscious enough to reveal itself. Because that story, while it seemed innocent enough, could be interpreted to mean something radically different. I doubt my dad noticed it (he was looking at my grammar. I had misspelled ‘does’ as ‘dose’ and ‘goes’ as ‘gose’. In the 3rd grade, I had mysteriously forgotten how to spell those two words. I still feel my past confusion).

 The story is like so: There are mice living in a house – not 2 or 3 – an entire nation of mice are living inside a hollowed wall in a house (mind you, I didn’t use the word ‘hollowed’. I’m translating the memory in my brain because I don’t remember the details, just some distorted pictures and ideas – I remember weird things). The entrance is the typical Tom and Jerry mouse-hole.

The mice are thriving in their hollowed out wall. Mother mice and children mice, husbands and grandpas. They’re just chillin’. Sure, they live in fear of the outside threat (beware the Feline monster, and the dreaded mousetraps) and sometimes have difficulty getting their food (beware the Feline food-hoarder, and the dreaded mousetraps), but they have a relatively O.K. life.

Then one day a renegade mouse decides enough is enough! He is tired of seeing his proud species oppressed and hungry, living in fear of one cat and the deceitful mousetraps, while they are an entire nation, numerous and able. It’s time to organize!, he declares, standing on top of the giant paint bucket that is his stadium, and brandishing an unreasonably small paintbrush as his sword.

All the mice are enlightened and HURRAH at his demand. But who are we uniting against?

“THE HUMANS” he proclaims, “ARE THE NUMBER ONE THREAT!”

(by now, my dad was probably suspicious at least, that I was a psycho who’s mind generated nonsense from who-knows-where).

I’m pretty sure I explain why the humans are the threat (the mousetraps – their torture device. the cat – their tool. And so on).

However, they soon realize that they don’t-got-no-weapons, and have to think about their attack strategy.

Then one genius (I don’t know who) realizes that the perfect plan is to use the conveniently-blue paint bucket (for some reason, it is in the hollowed-out wall. Maybe it was also a closet, who knows?) to paint the world in blue stripes. I rationalized, through this amazing mouse, towards the obvious truth that if you painted the entire world in blue stripes, then everyone would look the same and somehow that would make the mice victorious. I don’t remember what that rationalization was though.

And one of the pictures I remembered was the renegade mouse with the blue striped paint on his face, looking particularly tough – like a ninja.

By now, my dad might have come to the conclusion that I was going to be put away.

(by the way, I picked mice because I figured out a really easy [and long-lost] technique for drawing mediocre-looking mice – I think I learned it from playing with rubber bands).

So, a couple of scenes of mice painting the entire world in blue stripes with people running around screaming in horror, and BOOM. The humans create a plan to defeat the mice. They get a bucket of water and pour it, washing all the blue paint [and the mice] away.

I don’t remember if every country did this and if the humans contacted each other via military walkie-talkies or television, or if somebody washed all the striped-painted nations clean with a bucket filled with an apparently infinite quantity of water, but it ended with the Mice going to court.

Crimes against humanity? Who knows.

So, a scene where the mice are being tried and found guilty, and then I guess they’re put into jail. I think I remember a scene where an unhappy (possibly frustrated or angry) mouse is in jail, and I don’t remember what happens after. But the last page had a paintbrush and bucket.

The end?

My younger sister liked it though, and she hated to read, so that made me happy. She accepted the logic of the story.

We were weird kids.