10.31.2004
everybody hurts sometimes?
just when i convince myself that i'm so different from everyone else, and that's why no one gets me completely, i have a normal crazy person day like today. see, it doesn't take catastrophes for me to see the good or the bad of a situation. normal sunday afternoons watching movies and baking cookies makes me wonder who i am and where i came from. i've never liked movies like "Independence Day" or other catatrophic disaster-type movies, because they point out that people only come together in crisis situations. Aliens, terrorists, plague and death bring us closer because we realize we're all the same. But I realize that without the crisis. There's a girl my age in Iraq right now, wondering why guys don't like her or why her country's at war. She doesn't get to vote, doesn't get to go to college, doesn't get to date, maybe. But I can do all those things, and have. I'm supremely lucky and grateful.
But back to today. I watched "The Cat in the Hat" with Mike Myers, and most of "Two Weeks Notice" with Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock. I made chocolate chip cookies. I'm so scared of over-cooking them, because I hate overcooked, crispy cookies, that I undercooked them. So I set them on the oven which was still warm and hoped they'd cook some more. They really didn't, but they're edible. Soft and chewy and fall apart in your fingers. I'm scared of everything that seems wrong to me. I fucking undercooked cookies, for goodness' sake. Ridiculous.
The reason I didn't finish watching "Two Weeks Notice" is because my dad stopped by on his way out of town. He's moving across the state, so I guess we won't see each as much as we have become accustomed to. It's funny, because even a few years ago, I hardly saw him a few times a year, much less a few times a month or week. But I've become important to him somehow, probably due to the fact that he's alone now, which he never really has been before. He's always had a girlfriend or something to hold on to. Part of me is glad he's suffering, because I did for so long, just wanting him to be around when he wasn't.
Then I went to my mom's house for dinner. She's needy, too. Alone, like dad. I just got home, and the first thing my roommate says to me is "Who came over today?" Accusatory. I asked why before answering. "Because whoever was here locked Ella in the bathroom." His cat. I feel a little bad, but who cares? I mean, is it really necessary for that to be the first thing you say to me? It hurts my feelings, honestly.
I get my feelings hurt a lot. Nobody seems to care as much as I do. I guess it's hard for people to be responsible for others' feelings, but I'm tired of caring. I don't care for myself anymore. Literally and figuratively. So we'll see what happens next. I'm thinking more and more about cutting Joe out, having the "Dear John" conversation, i.e. deal with your shit and grow up or I'm outta here.
Listening to: Delerium "Lamentation"
alannablue at 7:23 p.m.