Cursed Microwave

My adventure last night involved burnt popcorn. I was craving popcorn so I decided to microwave a bag, but when it had a minute or so to go, I guess I got too excited and had to run to the bathroom, leaving the popcorn unsupervised. When I came back, of course, it was smoking and nearly charred to a crisp. That pissed me off because now my craving wouldn't be satisfied.

Anyway, I was walking back to the room and the heat from the popcorn bag and it demagnetized my key. (Our dorms have plastic credit card shaped cards for keys). So my room wouldn't open. Wonderful. I had to go the housing office with my bag of smelly burnt popcorn to get a new key.

Then this morning, I learned the lesson again that I shouldn't leave the microwave unattended (always read the directions). I exploded my food in the microwave. On second thought, I don't think I can be left unattended in a kitchen. I'm very accident prone and I never know what I'm doing in a kitchen.

Also last night, my friend from my old dorm invited me over but as soon as I came over she decided to talk to her other friend on the phone leaving me all alone in her room to do as I please. So my reign of terror included pressing the locator button on the base for the cordless telephone while she was talking on it, telling her online friends that she was arrested and in jail, and locking her out. I was also thinking about turning all her posters upside down and rearranging her room. But she finally caught on and kept an eye on me. I don't think I'll be invited back there so much. Hehe

I think I calmed down. The past two days have just been bad. And it's probably going to get worse. Why? Because it's not over yet. Yes, I'm freaking out over that damn political science paper. But it's not just that. My mom comes online telling me that she had to be rushed to the ER yesterday because she was becoming dizzy again.

When I was in high school my mom was always in and out of the hospital. If my brother wasn't going to the hospital for some reason then it was my mom. It was scarier when my mom went. When my brother went to the hospital we usually knew what was wrong with him and how long until he would be out of the hospital. When my mom went, no one - even the doctors - knew what was wrong. They'd tell her this and that, and maybe she doesn't listen, but it never helps. She was always tell me that maybe she was going to die soon. I never know what to think when she said that. Was it my fault? For stressing her out? Was she really going to die? What was I going to do if she did die? Should I scream, tell her to stop talking like that?

I'd never say anything. I'd simply pretty to not hear it even though it would ring in my ears for days and days. It made school more appealing. Everyday I could go somewhere where I didn't have to hear my mom talking about her death. But then everyone would ask me what was wrong, and I'd tell them. "My mom's sick. She went to the ER again."

I remember once, we had to go to a museum late in the afternoon for some school assignment. I think I called home and my dad picked up, instead of my mom. He said that my mom went to the hospital but quickly he added that she would be home tonight before I could start getting silly ideas. It wasn't a very happy trip to the museum. I was frustrated. Why was my mom always sick? What did I do? It wasn't fair that she worked really hard to bring up a family and it's not fair that I tried to be good and I had to think about my life without a mom, about how I would graduate from college or even high school without a mom, get married without my mom there, have kids that she would never see.

It was one of those experiences where everything just dies around you. Everything becomes bland. You can't feel the wind. Everything around feels false. I'm trying to avoid it right now. I have things to do and I don't know if they're right or not, but I just feel like I have to do something. I can't be crying and laying miserably in my bed.

"Mommy! Can we keep it?"

Look at this. I'm guessing that the influx of robotic pets just wasn't cutting it.

Yes, writing about NATO and UN - back to loathing my existence.

5/2/2002 03:41:45 PM

I almost got hit by a car today. Recently, I've also been stalked by bulldozers, too. But I almost got hit by a car that was going about 40 miles per hour. I wasn't try to rush across five lanes of traffic or anything. I was trying to get through a damn parking lot. Some people shouldn't be driving. I don't understand what's the need to be rushing out of a parking lot. You have to stop for the stop sign and then stop for traffic and then stop for a red light. Why speed? Luckily, I ran out of the way in time and the driver swerved a little into the other lane. Really close to giving him the finger, but I didn't. That might have really pissed him off and he would have ended up killing some innocent person waiting by the sidewalk.

Anyway, that's my exciting story for the day. Now to ponder about the causes of post-WWII security systems for my political science essay.

Don't you hate it when...

People tell you about some problem they have...
(in order to get attention)
And then you inquire more about the problem so maybe you can help them out
(because you don't like other people having problems)
And then they tell you "none of your business"
(because maybe they got the wrong, considerate instead of risk-favoring attention from you)

So next time they tell you have a problem
(because darnit, they love your attention)
You still ask them about the problem, hoping to help
(darnit, are you still stubborn?)
And they still say "none of your business"
(dammit, how rude)
So you say "okay" and walk away
(and now they think you don't care)

I have a friend that does that. It's really stupid. I stopped caring. I can't stand the rudeness anymore. It's not fair that I'm always polite and considerate and she has nothing but vulgar neglect for me. She tells me "Oh, I'm not going to study tonight. My darn friends." Of course the whole solution to the problem would be "Don't go out with your friends and study for your midterms - you know, the ones you threaten to kill yourself over if you fail them? Yeah, those." But of course she doesn't want to hear it. I used to get it with my ex-roommate. "I'm going to kill myself." They put themselves into these self-fulfilling prophecies and they don't like to listen to the simple solutions that I have to offer. Don't get me wrong. I don't like to ruin fun but if you're going to have fun so you can fail your midterm and then freak your friends out by making suicide threats... then stay out of my face about it.

It makes me hate people. Why am I a psychology major? It deals with people. I hate people. What the hell?

My mom is mad at me. I was planning on going home in two weeks for the weekend to see my uncle from the Philippines. But on that weekend they switched their plans around so I decided to stay. Its going to be a huge waste of time for me. That's the official reason I'm giving. They're going to drive up to pick me up on the friday night. Then on Saturday, we're going to drive back up north for about two hours somewhere and then drive back down home. And then on Sunday, they're going to drive me back up. That's like eight hours on the road during two days. And on that Saturday we're going to my cousin's baby's baptismal. Yes, my cousin. She's my age. Maybe 19. And she has a baby.

I really don't want to show up to this family thing. Not only am I going to use study time but I'm going to waste it by being criticized. Criticized of what? Everything. The way I look. That I'm too fat or I'm too skinny. Or I'm too short. Or that I have bags under my eyes. Or that I don't dress fancy. Or that I still look like a kid. Or that I look like I don't belong in college. It doesn't matter to them that I'm one of the few grandkids out there actually attending a university, or the only cousin out there that hasn't been knocked up or married off, or the probably one of the cousins that hasn't screwed up yet. It doesn't matter to them that I'm an honor student. Or that I got into a 'really good school'. Or I made the dean's list. Or passed this test or that test. Not of it matters. It's just that I'm too fat or too skinny or not tall enough. Everything that I can't help.

Or if it is about something I can help, it's my decisions. "Why did you go to that school?" "Psychology??? That's your major??" You aren't going to get a job with that. You should have went into nursing or joined the navy." Sometimes I hate being polite.

What's even worse is when they start talking about me. In front of my face. In a different language. As if I can't understand. Few kids these days understand their dialect. (The fact that I understand it doesn't matter either). I learned enough when I was younger to get the general idea of their conversations. I can't speak it but I can damn well understand it. It hurts the most when they're looking right at you, saying all these bad things as if your deaf or something. Then my mom or my grandmother would walk by, laughing slightly at their folly. "She can understand you." And they laugh. They don't apologize. They just laugh as if my understanding makes all the more amusing. I hate it.

My mom's pissed that I pulled out. I told her it was going to waste my time, that I have exams and that I was hoping to study for them at home. She knows that's not the whole reason. She knows that I just don't want to show up. She thinks it's because I'm anti-social. I'm not anti-social. I'm not shy. I'm pretty reserved. I just hate showing up at these things and going through the torment. I don't know why she doesn't understand that. Maybe everyone in the family has this gene that allows them to ignore the criticism. Everyone has this gene but me. I don't know.

I thought when I went away for college that a lot of my problems would disappear but nope, they're still there. They just decided to give me a little break. They're like demon-vultures that are perched, waiting on the fence near my house for my more permanent return home so they can bombard me...... Maybe it's not too late too sign up for summer session.

I have about six more weeks of school but I feel like my brain has had it. This whole week (it's only tuesday) I've been having a lot of trouble staying focused during lecture. It same likes a no brainer, lectures usually mean snooze time, but I never had trouble paying attention during lectures and absorbing the information I need but this quarter I feel like my brain is has been filled to capacity. I feel like I'm just jamming information into my skull, trying to make it all fit. I think I'm mentally exhausted. But I still have six weeks to go. :(

4/30/2002 06:21:01 PM

I'm blessed because I'm the oldest child of my family. The cousins who came before me, kind of disappointed their families and there are no cousins around my age that can provide any threatening competition, which is good, because I think I would tend to crumble under pressure - long-lasting, constant pressure. I like it. There's no one I'm struggling to surpass or there aren't any bitter sisters or cousins that are constantly compared to me. I'm virtually without rival.

But once every few years, some relative who returns from a visit to the Philippines remarks about how wonderful my 'auntie' Grace has become. She's some relative who happens to be in a generation above yet only six months older than me. It's always about how she's growing up to be a beautiful young lady, or how she accomplished this or that. It's strange because they specifically direct their updates about her to me. I always have this blank stare on my face every time I hear something like this because I wonder why they tell me all this. Why should I care?

The most recent Grace update was from my own grandmother of whom I am her first grandchild. "...out of 132 participants, she placed 8th in this college examination." "Who is this, nanay?" I didn't hear the first part of the sentence. "Your auntie Grace." Luckily, I was sitting in the front seat where she couldn't see the exasperated look that suddenly appeared on my face. I'd usually forget about this aunt, only to be reminded about her every few years. I just don't understand why they keep bringing her up. She can't possibly be a real close blood-related relative because I think I have a good notion of the entire clan.

I kind of felt bad and jealous that my own grandmother was bragging about her. I feel like I didn't accomplish enough, that I'm the inferior one of this long-distance, invisible, subtle rivalry. I only met this girl once, when we were about five. I don't remember much about her except that she would make smart-ass remarks when I asked questions or if I said something. Maybe that's why I don't seem to like her much, even though I really don't know who she is.

I think it's a reminder or maybe a relayed misconception that I'm not in a league of my own. Or maybe people just like to brag and gossip without intention. But, ick, I don't want to be compared to anyone. It's just setting me up to disappoint people.

Argh.. I have an obsession with Captain Harlock, Queen Emeraldas and Galaxy Express 999 which are reeally old animes (from the late 70s) that have been recently been re-animated. I picked up Maetel Legend and now I'm freakin' hooked again. My brother told met that recently he found my taped copy of Galaxy Express 999 but my dad recorded over it. If you want to know how obsessed I am check out my wishlist. Dang, it makes me wish that I'm all done with college and I have a job and money... but then again, not, because I probably won't have time to watching cartoons. Damn the addiction.

I had an interesting drive back to my school. At first, my dad was just going take me by himself but he decided to drag my brother along because he didn't want to drive back by himself. We decided to make a stop at my grandma's house because I didn't make an appearance all weekend. My two cousins asked if we could go, but even though we told them it would a really boring and painful trip, they still insisted. When my grandma found out that they were coming, she decided to come to because she never seen my school before. I don't know what the big deal was. I hope they weren't expecting towering Gothic towers or anything grand. In fact, my campus is pretty ordinary. It has some interesting architecture, all modern though.

Anyway, on the drive up here, I remembered that I had a picture of Xab posted on my bulletin board. I happened to take picture of him one day while he was napping and there's one picture of him that I took as soon as he awoke. He looked really serious and... sexy, what can I say? Hehe. Anyway, I didn't want my dad seeing a picture of him on my bulletin board. Not that there was anything wrong with that picture. I just didn't want my family thinking I'm obsessed with my boyfriend, even though, I think, you're suppose to be. So anyway, as soon as my dad handed me my luggage I provoked my two cousins into running and I chased them, allowing me a few minutes to get to my room before they could. My dad was calling for me to slow down, "Heyy! Where are you going? Slow down. Wait for your nanay!" I gave some excuse that my two cousins were getting away or that he was walking to slow and just took off. Anyway, the picture wasn't on the bulletin board. I guess I remembered to shove it out of sight between my books or something.

Sometimes it pays be constantly practicing random acts of weirdness because when you really need to do something weird, no one really thinks anything of it.