It's been, One week since you looked at me

I am in a relatively good mood at the moment.

I had a pretty good day yesterday. It was interesting.

The weather was cold and grey, but I liked it. When I woke up I found that the only child home was the youngest, so we took the bus to the mall.

I found some stuff that I'm really excited about.

As we were sitting on the bus, I again became aware of how much it would seem to the average bus goer or passerby that Jojo is actually my son. I mean, he is half Asian, yes, but that only would mean that I supplied the other half of that equation.

This is especially reinforced when he hugs me on the bus, or lays down in my lap, or goes, "I love you, Dee" with the most adorable and huge smile. And when he talks to me in that semi-gibberish language of his (due to his slowness in picking up the proper way to speak the English language) that I obviously understand and respond to.

I realized, at this moment, what I took my job for in the first place.

2 main reasons. Reason 1 was so that I wouldn't have to go back home and live with my parents, stay in this town and have a job. Reason 2 was for the kids; hoping to change them and turn them into more functional, less sociopathic beings.

If I had been writing blogs this week, it would have showed differently. It would have shown my anger at the amount I am paid, anger at their mother, frustration with their family, and a true intolerance/detesting of the way that they live and portray themselves to others.

And while it is true that these things do make me angry, and make me want to quit, I know now that it really is up to me to put these aside.

Ignore them, and I really won't get as frustrated.

This means do my job as I intended and forget the rest. When they start talking about things I can't take, then leave. Let them live the way they want. If I can't escape, or if they're in my face, then I can fight back or complain.

I didn't take this job for their parents; they got themselves into this mess and I'm not getting them out of it, I am just helping their children.

Basically, I need to imitate perfection.

If they can't SEE anything wrong, then they can't complain, n'est-ce pas?

I'm not saying I am going to be lying or anything. I'm just going to work my butt off till five everyday and then hide. I used to do this, before I connected with my friends again. I just have to remember how to get back into the habit.

I wonder if this is the wrong thing to do, or if it means I have some sort of complex. Oh well, it's not like I'm looking forward to doing it.

The only thing I look forward to is the weekend and the day that I quit ;)

On a happier note!

One of the things that made yesterday so awesome was, as I was cleaning my room (which is actually really nice now) my little sister phoned with excellent news.

My big brother (the one who took me out for my birthday) asked his girlfriend (of like, 3 years) to marry him!!!

In his own words, "...and good news, she said yes!!!" (and yes, there WERE three exclamation points there)

This makes me unbelievably happy :)

It really helped to even out a relatively crappy week, and end off a good day.

Dancing with the stars

I feel soo braindead.
I had a non-awkward conversation with my sister over msn tonight. Usually, this sister and I don't talk much, we have had a less than spectacular relationship in the past.
The only reason we ever start an msn conversation is because one of us needs something from the other, but never asked in a bitchy, I-am-totally-just-using-you kind of way. I mean, we are sisters, and sisters help each other out, and if that is the only reason we need to talk to each other, so be it.
I think we're both fine with it.

But the conversation turned; she sent me a video. We commented on the video a bit (it was about some woman who'd been impaled through the neck by a tree branch, she is alive and well), and then she asked me some questions about what I wanted to do with university. So I talked to her about what I wanted, and what my friends were doing, and whatnot.
I like to discuss university with her, because she is actually really understanding and empathetic on such topics, and she is in her fourth year, so she has some experience and knows about the different universities too.

I have a giant craving for ginger ale (my only vice, other than chocolate milk), and there's nothing I can do about it. It doesn't help that I'm hungry and thirsty at the moment. But I'm so tired too, and it's not good to eat before bed, lol.
My normal insomnia takes a whole new twist in uncomfortableness when I've just eaten before trying to fall asleep.

I'm trying to give my cousin relationship advice. She's having difficulties with a particularly irritatingly confusing and non-clarifying boy. He has potential, or I'd tell her to just drop it. Well, I told her to drop it if he gets any worse.

I don't know what it is with my family and other friends coming to me to ask for relationship advice. I don't know who put the giant red arrow over my head that said "Dear Abby Will Solve Your Cupid Problems".
I'm not complaining, I'm just surprised they keep coming, and there are new ones everyday.
It must be working?
It's strange this time, because my cousin's and my morals are, well, slightly different. I have to change my moral levels when talking to her. I think she is under the impression I've done a lot more than I have (is that too much personal information for a blog?)
but, I think at the same time, when I switch my ideals like that and look really objectively, I think it genuinely helps her.
Plus, it's not like I'm telling her to go fuck the kid or anything, lol.

I just realized again how much I like the word fuck. Apologies if it's a rough word for anyone to read here, but, it just sounds so awesome rolling off the tongue, and I'm all into linguistics, so, the cacophony gets me everytime.
Sorry :P

Surveillance.

I had a pretty good day today :)
Yup.
Went to Toronto, got some personal shopping done, watched a scarier remake of a fairy tale.

And, while in Toronto, I had got a phone call from my big brother (I know I'm probably too old for that phrase, and should use "older brother" instead, but he will really never be anything to me other than my big brother, and he's twelve years older than me, and frikken tall, and I am truly a child at heart, so I don't care), and he asked me to forgive him for not doing anything for my birthday, and asked if I was able to watch a movie tonight to make up for it.

Not seeing anything on my social radar for this evening, and not wanting to miss the chance to see him, I obliged his request.

It was pretty fun. He picked me up at my house, and as the age difference between us is rather something and we don't see each other that often, I wondered if the 15 or so minutes to his house would be awkward at all. And they were, at first, but only in so much as they usually are when you first are in the car with someone you haven't seen in a month.
He made me hysterical when he asked in the woman in the house buttering bread was the helper. HA! She's the kids' mother....

Onto other things though. He asked if I wanted food: I asked for Chinese ^_^ Wish granted, yay! I realized that we are rather similar, that even though we are years apart and whatnot, we are still of the same family, and that it shows.

Our taste in music on the radio, the way that we hum along to the stupid commercials, the way that we babble about our buddies, the way that we try to be as un-stuck-up as possible while at the same time trying to display something of ours.
Also, we have similar tastes in movies, and think the same-ish throughout. The movie that we watched was pretttttty weird, but instead of talking throughout it like some of my sisters do and the way that I hate
(That is, being confused and saying so out loud and asking a zillion questions and talking throughout the whole thing and during the more "questionable parts" making it kind of awkward)
he was totally silent and would only talk when he was silently talking or asking my opinion of something that I was also thinking. "questionable parts" weren't awkward because I know that he felt that I was mature (?) enough or something to not be a total douche throughout them.
I really enjoyed the whole ordeal :)

(I just found out that the Leaf's beat the Canadiens last night 6-11. That makes me insanely happy)

Anyways. It was a pretty good time and I'm glad I went.

~oh! also, he offered me a beer, and I was really thirsty and it was the only cold thing in the fridge so I took it. Plus, I don't know if he was giving it to me because I was nineteen now, or whatever, at which case I felt it might be kind of rude to not take it.
Now, I don't really like beer that much....
But I was able to finish this one! It tasted ok. Phew. Now I know a brand of beer that I can consume without gagging simulateously.
Thanks Tys [:

I want to go swimming.

So, I finished downloading over a hundred "classic disney" songs today, and I love it.
There are some that aren't there that I wish were, but I am certainly satisfied with what I have.

Poor child; today one of the children came into my room, bawling his eyes out, telling me something bad had happened to him. He'd lost a hockey skate somehow.
Now, unfortunately the child has this bad habit of hiding his hockey equipment and then crying about not being able to find it. I don't know why he does it; I've asked him a million times if he really wants to do hockey, and the answer is always an affirmative.
I mean, he knows that he wouldn't have to lie to me about such a thing.

But, instead of yelling at him and telling him to go find it because he obviously knows where it is (like the rest of his family does), I just hugged the boy tight. I don't know why he does what he does, but there must be a reason, and yelling at him isn't going to get it out.
And the child almost made me cry.

As I was hugging him, he kept crying and said something, the most of it I could get out was "I know I can tell you because you are my best friend....you are my buddy."

Ooooh, that hit the soft spot. I could practically physically feel his own distress in my own body. It brought me back to the times in my childhood when I was terrified of things, and all I wanted was someone to wipe the tears off my face, and hug me, and tell me something to make it better, and to help me.

So that's what I did for the young one.

We went and looked, and his mother eventually found the skate in a bag behind a table in the basement. I don't know if the boy was lying, or if they wound up there accidentally (the place where they were has entirely the possibility of gathering lost items miraculously), but something is wrong.
I wish the boy would just quit hockey. It's not worth all the shit that he's going to have to go through this season because he's too afraid of what he thinks the reaction will be if he actually admits it to his dad.

another thing. the young one's older brother (by one year) got reamed out today for being too addicted to computer games. the rant he was graced to was entirely just, and many problems were sorted out. it didn't make me happy, but it did make me relieved. the boy is a huge liar, and he was called out on it.

everyone but the oldest child who has tried out has been cut from one of their teams so far, and has had to join a different team than originally planned. some of them think it's a conspiracy against their family. I almost wish it was; someone has to put these people in their place. at least I hope it takes them down a notch.

Oh! I found a memory stick I thought I'd lost today, and I found this in it. I did it for a project, and if you read it, I hope you enjoy it ;)
It's an excerpt from a novel we were supposed to write in writer's craft class :D

EBV

So I went to the doctor's today to see if I was sick some way.

I don't think I am, I think I'm over whatever sickness I might have had, but I like to be sure anyhow. I find it slightly ironic that the blood test clinic I needed to go to closed about 2 minutes before I got there with the awesome friend who drove me.

But such is life.

I think life is trying to spite me.

As I came back, the family seemed ultra concerned as to my health.

Not concerned enough, however, to ask me to clean the house and bake a cake while I watched the kids as they went to some type of soccer game or another.

I hate using cake mixes from a box.

And the damn thing decided to not want to be nice to me and cook properly. It got semi burnt while the other part of it was undercooked.

I attacked the burnt spots with a knife.

the undercooked parts I let cook more.

And then, the impatient kids demanded it be taken out and be available for devouring.

So, I attempted to take the cake (carrot cake, which i dooooon't like at all) out of the pan.

and it kind of....broke :)

I almost found it a type of justice while really annoying at the same time.

Almost as annoying as three girls singing at the same time. Not that they're terrible. but...one of them is a whiney singer, the other is singing a different song, and the third is belting out on the piano with such force that it annoys me.

The three in combination is becoming a bit for me to handle.

Especially when they decide to throw their own little twists on the songs.

Sigh. I should just get out of my bad mood.

The book that I am reading now is definitely a contemporary teen literature book. I enjoy it because it has an intrigue worthy plot, some interesting characters, and is something that really doesn't take much brain power for me to read when I am tired. I will save the Crichton and Austen and classic literature for when I have caught up on some sleep.

Yet, at the same time...

I hate the amount of adverbs the authors (a mother/daughter team wrote the series--the mother is an english teacher, hahaha) feel are necessary. I don't like what they assume are typical teenage words and way of speech. I don't like how they make their character womanly and so stupidly immature at the same time (which I know wasn't clever character design on their part...).

It's tough to read that. I just feel like taking a red pilot pen and stroking out and rewriting their paragraphs and words or sentences.

(is that anal of me?)

At least it's not Stephanie Meyer's bad.

And they definitely don't exude mormon-isms.

(Gahhhh they're trying to sing camp songs like a pop star again....plug ears plug ears plug ears)

I really want to eat pierogies. They are delicious packages of potatoey delight.

Ok...so that was random.

But.

I say what I think.

I Love You, Man. ;)

So apparently everyone in my closest-knit group of friends is some type of slut.

Knowledge Slut (Becx)

Cuddle Slut (Pauvre)

Actual Slut (Philandering Manwhore)

....

Me?

ummmm....I don't think anyone really picked one for me. I think I just have a flair for mangetizing human drama to myself.

But there was no decision as to what kind of Slut I was.

I think it would be a little bit messed up of me as to want to know what kind of slut I am. I think I'll be fine without that title, haha.

(ps, I only listed three friends. Duh, I have more friends than that, however, not that I see as often as these three, lol)

I discovered that, although I don't like to talk religion with my friends, because I feel it has no place in our relationship, we aren't trying to convert each other, that it actually does kind of factor.

I don't like it if I hear someone making fun of my religion, like, seriously bringing it down because they don't like it.

I am quite happy with my sexual decisions based on my religion. I don't like to have others look at me strangely or ask me questions and have facial reactions as though I can't be serious or I must be lying.

Just because we live in the 21st Century does not mean that I have to follow the "modern" or "cool" or "our generation's" value system.

If I make silly jokes about something like that, I reserve every right to not do as I say. (Lol, that may sound like a chickening out thing, but How many of us Practice what we Preach? yeah. Thought so...)

And I would despise it if someone were to just think that I were hiding behind my religion on these issues. I have every little bit of information you could want to back me up. You just don't want to listen. Why is that?

I guess I'm just a little pissed about this at the moment. I'm sure it will pass. But I'll still hold to my ideas.

I think I'm also just a little bit irritated about hearing about sex. It's all you ever hear about. It's getting annoying. I think one of the reasons it used to be a taboo subject is cuz you just get so damn bored about hearing about it.

I don't care if you can't get laid; I'm not doing it to you and I don't get laid either, do you hear me whining? get over it. Maybe that's some of your problem.

I don't care if you get laid all the time; I don't want whatever sexual disease you're going to contract someday, so keep your well used genitals and whatever they do away from me.

I'm sick of hearing of you and whatever it is you do with your significant other. I don't want to get in on it, and I really don't feel like I'm missing that much, so why are you fanning your sexual exploits around me?

And I don't want to hear how sexually frustrated I must be. Gah. I don't want to lay you, and it's not sexual frustration, I deal with tons of junk in my day for sooooo many reasons that Sexual Frustration would be the last of them.

Believe me, I can be very honest with myself.

If I'm sexually frustrated, I'll figure something else.

Blah.

Plus they take something that is just so...well, purposeful and good and supposed to be the ultimate in relationships and whatnot, and twist it.

Half the reason I think aside from religious and personal morals and whatnot that I don't want to have sex, is becuase with the way it's portrayed, I would feel a slut for just having it in the first place.

Because thats how it's portrayed, so that it seems sooooooooooooooo much better. Am I not right?

The ratio of dirty to clean sex you see in the media is sorely one sided.

and I don't like it.

Why ruin a good thing like this?

Tighter than a pair of my little sister's jeans.

Once again, I was reflecting on things in the shower today.
Showers are really great.

Anyways...

This has to do with emo kids. I believe that they have a bad rep. Yes, sometimes they annoy me. But I can't hate them.
I mean, they're really just like everyone else.

What I mean by that is this: Everyone in the world has problems, and as I look at my life, I see that it's really just been problem after problem with a few good parts tossed in. I noticed that half the time I am with my friends, we discuss our problems, and what's wrong with us and others, and what sucks and what we wish for and how we think things could be better, etc. etc. etc.

I think the same goes for everyone else out there too.
We complain to each other, eat chocolate together, give each other hugs and kisses, comfort each other.
For our problems
and why the world sucks
and why we are sad or depressed some times.

So I really have no issues with emo kids.
They are just letting the world acknowledge that they have pain, and that their life sucks, etc etc.
They simply have the initiative to take it outside their TV room/coffee bar.

The only emos I have issues with are the fake ones that just think it's cool to dress in excruciatingly and castratingly tight and/or neon jeans.
The ones that are from rich families that really have no issues, but just want to fuck people with real problems because they're horny
The ones that get high because they think it's cool and not because they have REAL problems, that, unfortunately have no reprieve but to escape your body for a little while.
The ones that go to parties and pretend to be sullen to fit in with a crowd.
REAL emos, well, they don't really care. That's kind of the point.

So the fake ones can suck it, because, you annoy me. I have more issues and pain than you, and I wear flared denim and have maybe one T-shirt promoting a band.
It's not about how you look.
But I didn't want to turn this into a fight about clothes.

Real emos, the original ones from the 90's and the ones that don't care, I love you.
Because someone needs to love you.
Because that's what you need, and that's what you're asking for.

Also, people of the world, realize that every time you whine about something, or cry over something, or feel like your only escape is through physical pain or forgetting yourself...
realize that that is emo.

And there's really nothing wrong with it.
We're all emo.
We just try to hide it.

Legallll!

It was my birthday yesterday. It went rather well. I got to see a play called "Zastrozzi", which was really good. I got to eat my mother's lasagne, which was just as good.
I got to acutally enjoy it with my family and a friend, which was tops.
I bought my own alcohol.
According to others, I have quite the taste for alcohol. IE: it tastes really good.
Truth is, I just find so many types of alcohol repulsive that I really only drink the most delicious stuff...which makes me seem like I pick the best?
Haha, sneaky.

my one friend that I was up late talking to tonight says that I've done a miracle with the kids I nanny. I didn't really want to say anything, and he told me not to be humble about it.
It's not that I'm being humble.
I can't really describe.
I almost feel bad that I've done so, because that means that I am primarily raising the children. Which means their parents aren't. Now, as a nanny, obviously I know that the parents aren't the main caregivers and that I am going to have a ton of influence.
It just makes me so sad.

considering I've been an emotional wreck on and off for the past three months, this is really bad and good for me.

And I still haven't cried yet, which is frustrating me.
I just need some kind of release.