Family Knots

Another year come and gone. As the almost obnoxiously-brightly colored balloons insist on reminding me, It's my birthday today. Things were decidedly more relaxed when it came to celebrating this year, as opposed to 2011. And I'm enjoying it.

However, in the long car rides that my mother, sister and I had to partake in earlier today, we breached the subject of my father.

Ahh, Dad. . .

I feel almost guilty, writing this on the couch when I can still hear the faint beeps of his PDA as he stands by the calendar.

Scratch that.

I feel mega guilty.

Thumbprint to the First Knuckle

There is an entire list of people I want to punch, a majority of which on my elder sister's behalf, because she's too ridiculously nice to ever do so. Of course, I could very well suffer terrible consequences, "physical assault" charges or whatever, but I swear, one day I will just get in a car, drive from work place to house to apartment to park, and punch these people all in a row.

My sister and I have an interesting relationship, I think. I'll do something or ignore her or say something to get her mad at me, and then for the majority of the day we'll skirt around each other, until tomorrow, when we end up happy again.

(We both suck at holding grudges)

But sometimes when we're in the midst of a fight, something else will happen.

She'll get sad.

It's late, and I have an early morning tomorrow, so I'll make this relatively quick. I may expand more upon the topics that are to be touched briefly during the following posts later, but for now, I'll keep things simple with this:

I was going to go to a teen dance tonight. Spent all day progressively becoming more and more nervous about it, and beginning to regret saying I'd go. So when I actually arrived, I walked in, looked around, and walked straight back out and went out to dinner with my family. Ended up feeling like a pathetic person for being so socially anxious and such, and the dinner was nice enough for a popular place on a Friday night. Was a little depressed with myself when we got home, but eventually my father went to bed, and my sister took a skype call with a friend (Note to self: Never use Skype. The layout is way too complicated and confusing.) so I ended up talking with my mother for about an hour.

May I just say that my mother is quite probably the most amazing human being. And that I am incomprehensibly lucky to have such an awesome woman as my mother, and that I'm still sniffling and a little teary-eyed and I wouldn't have it any other way. We talked about a whole host of topics, cried a few times, and it's only due to the late time and early waking time tomorrow that we stopped. I'm only writing this now because I want to try and preserve the feelings, lest sleep dull my memories of them.

Basically, if this were a movie, something really bad would happen in the next scene.

But I refuse to dwell on that cinematic scenario, despite the fact that this entire thing screams cliche. Because I am teary-eyed and smiling and laughing and happy. I am looking forward to the future, for the days and weeks and months where I'll start cooking with her, make things easier around the house. Where I'll write things and maybe she'll read them, where we can talk and laugh and where I can hug her and repeat "thank you" a million times over, like tonight.

I'm ecstatic and hormonal and happy.

So if there is a "take away" message to this post, it's this:

I love my mom.

Observations on Teenage Socializing (or rather, lack thereof)

It's currently 20 minutes till midnight on Friday night, and I'm sitting in bed, propped up against the wall, typing up musings on socializing. I'll refrain commenting on that, so I can get on with the actual topic of this post: Socializing.

Silent Clockwork Hearts

It's with reluctance that admit I tend to wish it was just three people in my family, instead of 4.

The idea of simply my mother, sister and I is almost sinfully appealing.

I say this because my father has, as I'm sure is apparent, been "enraged" for the past days. And, as per usual, the cogs that make my family dynamic "tick" are beginning to rust and wear. Basically, it's becoming aggravating and annoying to the point that it surpasses it's initial fear factor, so to speak. I'm tired. I'm tired, and I don't even have to put up with a fraction of the dilemmas my mother and sister do.