maternity

so my mother is in the mist of one of her dramatic mood swings. instead of being annoying and happy and ridiculous, she's all spiteful. it's the kind of day (or perhaps longer, who knows) where she will fester in front of the television and be menacing. she'll threaten to break dishes if no one starts rinsing them, she'll scream violently at the cat for bothering her and she'll try in vain to castrate my father with her bitching.

she is in a bad mood so she'll naturally want to beat everyone else's spirit down to her own dismal level. as she learned from the mother she hates, if she feels angry or stupid she should just make everyone fear her until we become submissive to her irrationality.

it's this cycle of learned behavior that makes me want to staple my uterus shut. i'm way too much like my mother when it comes to fluctuating behavior and disposition. it's borderline abusive.

yadhtrib yppah

it's my dad's birthday today. dad's turning forty-seven.

there were three years when he had forgotten his age. he didn't think about it and when age was brought up, just figured that he was thirty-eight. my dad was thirty-eight for three years.

when he finally checked he was expecting to be forty but, to his surprise, he was thirty-eight. thirty-eight for another year.

when he was in his twenties, he wouldn't wear a watch. he owned his own business but not a watch. he wanted to bring his life to a point where time wasn't a burden. without knowing it, he was being very buddah-ish, trying to transcend time and all.

in related shit, i've been having detachment issues when i think about moving. it's not like i don't want to leave-there are plenty of days when i'd rather beat my head against the nearest wall than live here another year. but there are also those times when the thought of leaving behind all the arguments and diners and marathons of "law and order" is paralyzing. i get lonely for him and lonely for me.

even on a day that i'm greatful to have my father i feel the sting of the inevitable loss of him. i hate being a social animal; it's too fucking isolating. i'd much rather be some impersonal recluse. feelings are too much of a commitment, even on birthdays.

monkey trashcan

well, i've been getting rid of a lot of my shit lately. clothes, knickknacks, books, hair, tweets and now my myspace. i took a bunch of my useless crap down to savers, a thrift store. i got a hair cut. i deleted all of my tweets and my myspace is as good as gone. i tried to give my beta fish and lava lamp to louise; she wouldn't take.

usually when people start to give away their shit it's a sign that they're going to kill themselves. don't fear for my life reader, i don't feel that fucked up. i just have a lot of stupid shit i don't need or can't take care of (like the fish). i just decided to terminate the early signs of hoarding.

when i went to target on saturday i almost bought a ceramic monkey trashcan holding a banana. it was twenty something dollars. the only thing that prevented me from purchasing it was that i already have a ceramic monkey holding a banana. although, to be fair, it doesn't function as a trashcan. it's like a tea pot or something.

what is a stupid waste of money is made stupider by the fact that i really can't afford to spend twenty something dollars on anything. i could barley afford the haircut so another ceramic monkey probably isn't the best use of my funds.

anyway, this incident at target was the catalyst for me to stop keeping shit i don't need. while this event has only prompted me to get rid of material things and internet bullshit, i hope it translates to me letting go of mental baggage i can't afford either.

i need a good cleansing. like a baptism. louise, if you're reading this, which you better fucking be, i think that we should drive out to the middle of a dirt lot and break stuff. i'll bring the shitty plates i made in ceramics. and you should bring a bat. and i'll bring the monkey tea pot too.