This is a blog. About grief. A glog.

This is a blog. About grief. A glog.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015


It's just that respect is so conditional with him! I don't think I'll ever respect him, but if I said that, he would say, "Just wait until you're older and more mature."
FUCK. I don't think I know anyone that makes more mature decisions. I'm so goddamn law-abiding, that as a student I did not once sneak alcohol on campus, unlike numerous HPs. I don't think I, wait, ONCE, I drank someone else's alcohol on campus as a student. once.

It's like I'm allergic to rule-breaking, I'm so scared of authority. And he thinks I'm an idiot young person? When the hell do I start getting modicums of respect? When I've got a stable job? Oh, wait, my job is stable. When I get one in my field? No one graduates and works in the same field. When I wear a suit to work. Great, better dust off the suit and wear it to the coffeeshop. This is idiotic. If you don't respect me a little bit now, where is the rest of the respect going to come from?

And it's not like I started out hating him. I have a pretty goddamn healthy fear of disobeying authority figures.

Bout-to-Cry Build Up

I'm not sure what direction to go in, and feel too satisfied with my job and my apartment to want to move. I can't imagine going through the irritation of moving, just because I "needed a change." I don't think I'll ever really crave change for change's sake.

I'm really looking forward to teaching at art camp next week, but I wonder, is teaching self-absorbed? I can't help feeling that I'll enjoy it, but partially just because I get to be in charge, and I'll feel like I'll be important to other people. And for some reason, I keep rejecting that as a selfish reaction. I will want a job that

  • lets me feel important, 
  • where I can make decisions 
  • and be in charge of something, preferably people. Working with people who give me things to do, but let me do the same to them would be fine, too.
And that's it, I think. The hell am I supposed to do with that? I feel like an idiot, now that I've done like ten minutes research into an internship with the Iowa House of Representatives. It's basically volunteering. And it sounds like volunteering to be a very unimportant gopher. I would be a good executive assistant, I think. But how would I get into that? And I'd like to be a part of something, not a glorified valet. I don't know, I think the more important issue is that I'm too scared and too satisfied to look. Like getting my car fixed...and buying a new one. I feel like I'm still too scared to really do much of anything important. I kinda started doing some workouts to do triathalons a few months ago, and just let it peter out.

And on top of that, I've had this feeling for hours now that I should be crying, but I feel too numb to. As if I'm on a brink of an emotional precipice. And I can't quite convince myself that it'd be ok to fall in. Even though I've done it plenty of times before.

Omg, I almost cried today acknowledging something dumb...what was it? Maybe it was talking about getting a new muffler for the car, I don't remember. It was just so disproportional. I mean, it's natural, because I've had this about-to-cry-feeling for about half a day. I almost wanted to watch tear-inducing movies to get it out!

This might be the most even-keeled state I've ever written a post in...but it feels so fake. Arg! I write that, but know that I yawned when I arged, too, so... But I can tell this mundane record is helping me access more resolved and more peaceful feelings. I feel a bit less emotionally plugged. I just wish I could let it out a bit more easily...but then again, I've never really identified with hippified "inner-goddess" nonsense! I realized today...I don't remember the last time I hugged Elena. We are chill? So i don't know. Most of the emotions I associate with E involve solidarity against Bob's domineering personality and resignation to Mom's helplessness. He is such an ass. At what point does me saying that stop being a teenagery rebellion? I really wish I could sever more ties with him. It's just...he's inhabited my childhood home, my father's workbench, the ass. I can't get rid of him. And Alice even thought he might be emotionally abusive. uh.

I should journal more regularly. I think I let this build up too much.