We’re just ordinary people…

Funny how I only ever take the time to write in here whenever, for a variety of reasons, my life just absolutely sucks.

And it’s mostly my own fault. I stopped caring about certain things, stopped trying, and just procrastinated procrastinated procrastinated. And because of that, I’m slacking on my school and my work. I don’t know why I can’t bear to care anymore. I’ve had quite a few distractions, admittedly, but I don’t want to be one of those people who use their personal lives as excuses. But here I am, doing so.

My distractions have been both good and bad. Actually, it’s really the good that has been distracting me the most, nicely consuming my time and thoughts. The bad, which only erupted in my face rather recently, has given me motivation to stop slacking, because it seems that reading for class and doing work is a pretty good distraction from the bad.

It’s like once something good in life happened, something bad had to follow to keep everything in balance. Which, seriously, gives one reason to pause and think, “What the fuck?”

I just want to be happy

“I could stand by the side and watch this life pass me by.” – Leona Lewis

I swore that I would never be one of those people to agonize over lists of New Year’s resolutions because I always thought those kinds of people were just crocks. So you want to improve your life, why is it you only take the time to evaluate and suggest improvements whenever the calendar year changes? Life resolutions should be made and implemented when you create them, when you feel that your life is due for some changes. And most of the time, New Year’s resolutions are all the same. They’re all attempts to repeat the failed resolutions of previous years. Lose weight, take better control of finances. Really, that’s it.

Well, now I guess I’m going to have to swallow what I just said because I’ve come to realize that I do indeed have my own set of resolutions to lay out for me to accomplish. They’re not all necessarily goals I quickly conceived just for this, but rather life propositions that have gradually come about that I shall continue to adhere to in an attempt to find that elusive happiness. Or even simple contentment, that’s all I’m looking for.

Love, cherish, and honor my family

This is something I think I’ve subconsciously set out to do in recent years. I’m straying away from my hostile adolescent ways and trying more to keep this household together. It’s not a role I think I chose or was dealt with. It is just something I have to do. I want my parents to be OK, I want my brothers to grow up and be happy, prosperous people. I’m finding that the more I’ve been getting older, the more dependent I become on the well-being of my family. I don’t know where I would be without them, and I don’t know how I could function if I knew they weren’t happy. I’m not sure if I’m even explaining this right, but all I know is that I’m learning (and really trying) to be less selfish. At least, I hope that’s what I’m doing.

Be a better writer

When I decided to become an English major, it was because I simply liked to read books. I have never nurtured a serious desire to write poetry or critically acclaimed works of literature. I lack the creative drive to try and inspire the world with my words of wit. I never wanted to become a high school English teacher. I just like getting lost in different worlds, transporting myself to a universe that was different from my own. I still think books — plain, sheets of paper bound together, an object those electronic devices could never replace — have such a unique, raw power to make me feel anything. While I’m not going to go so far as to say that my goal this year is to actually get on the grind and write a novel, I want to learn to better express myself. I want to be a better blogger and write more than just about how tired and cranky I am. I want to write more short stories and see if maybe there’s a creative spark somewhere in there.

If there’s one book that I read in 2009 that stood out to me the most, it was Zadie Smith’s White Teeth. I had to read it for one of my English classes last semester, and I was just floored at how this woman’s writing struck me. Everything we talked about from that novel was literally everything I have thought about and mused about. Every topic was something I had never dreamed of dissecting in a contemporary novel. And to think, she started writing that book when she was my age. This year, I want to develop my words. I want to learn to actually, profoundly, and seriously write.

Redefine all my notions of friendship

This is something that I have literally been struggling with my entire life. I’m not sure if I’m good at having friends. I don’t know who I can truly trust with my feelings and innermost thoughts. If I’m not being paid enough attention to, I hide away and channel my anger through some other means. This isn’t to say that I’m never surrounded by people I have fun with. I truly believe that I’m good at being friendly. I’ve always prided myself on being one of those people you could trust your darkest, deepest secrets with, because you know that I’ll always be listening. I guess, if anything, I feel as if I focus too much on being a good friend to others that I don’t know if I know how to have others be good friends to me. It is extremely difficult for me to open up to people, for me to place my trust in others. I’m not the type of person who calls someone up in the middle of the day so that I can vent for the next three hours. If you show no interest in my life, I won’t share it with you. I’m so self-conscious about others not caring to know what is going on in my life, that I never let them get a chance to. I’m almost certain that this is a large reason why I’ve never been in any kind of serious relationship before. I think this is the resolution that is going to be the hardest for me to even think about. I’ll be the first to admit it, I have this huge, gigantic solid wall surrounding me that I don’t know how to break down. And it is my hope that someday, in the future, I will discover how it can be taken down bit by bit.

An uncanny resemblance

When my youngest brother, Michael, was born back in 1997, everyone was convinced he looked exactly like me. Of course, being a bratty 7-year-old girl back then, I didn’t believe it. But the comments wouldn’t stop. Even strangers and new family acquaintances would marvel over the resemblance between us. As I got older, though, I began to see it bit by bit. We have the same facial shape and this weird morning eyes thing that our faces are contorted in when we wake up. As Michael grew older and developed more of a personality, our mom would not stop comparing us. We’re both stubborn, hot-headed, and just plain weird. We both sing randomly to ourselves, make odd noises, and we have practically the same personality. We’re more social and outgoing whereas my other brother, Jeff, keeps more to himself.

At any rate, now my parents have never been more convinced that we’re secretly twins just seven years apart. Michael’s in the 7th grade now (funny how that number keeps popping up), and all 7th graders have to participate in a science fair. My project when I was in 7th grade had something to do with water evaporation. If I recall correctly, I was testing whether or not different additives affected the rates of water evaporation — something like that.

Michael’s science fair project? How different food colorings affect water evaporation.

It is eerie. My parents theorized that Michael must have subconsciously remembered my own science fair project when he was conceiving ideas for his own. I shot this down, though, because Michael must have been around 4-years-old when I did that, and it was a project that was quickly forgotten after the report was submitted and presentations were finished. There’s no trace of the project left, not after two house moves and the 8(?) years that have gone by; I didn’t win any major prizes, so it’s not like there’s pictures or certificates of me with my water evaporation experiment lounging around the house. Michael himself said that he just made it up, found the idea on his own while researching.

Or, as my mom now says, he just really does think like me. In which case…good god, that kid is going to have some rough years ahead of him.

Estoy cansada

I’m getting ready to embark on quite the tumultuous adventure for the next 24 hours. I honestly have no idea how I’m going to physically and mentally survive it all. I have an exam on Tuesday morning for my International Relations class, which I seriously need to ace if I want a chance at an A in that class. But I also have to read The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie for Tuesday, because my English professor basically warned us beforehand of a pop quiz. He wasn’t too happy that the discussion last Thursday was basically mute, so if I don’t want him to be giving me death stares on Tuesday, then I had better read the book (which is amazing so far, but also quite lengthy). And on top of it all, I’m working tomorrow night.

No sleep for me for the next couple of days, I suppose. 🙁

I went home over the weekend, which was not quite the most amazing fantastical weekend I thought it would be. I felt like I basically popped in for 48 hours, then left. It was not enough. I feel like I need to be home right now. Things are not too happy around the house, and I want to know that everything’s OK. I’ve always been the caretaker, the mediator, and I just want to be home so I can take care of things that need to be taken care of. Moreover, I just want everyone to be bloody happy for once. And I can’t do that if I’m all the way over here, stressing over stupid exams and reading loads.

Aaacccckkkk.

You're hot, but you ain't so bright

So I got into quite the heavy argument with my dad last night. It started when I went into the kitchen to tell him that we were going to leave for Transformers 2 midnight show at around 9. He had hesitated, then proceeded to tell me that he would be dropping us off instead of me driving, because he was worried about my 12-year-old brother being out so late. At which point, I just blew up.

Read more…

Transformers 2 was…okay, I suppose. I really didn’t have any expectations for it, and I knew it was going to be long as hell, so I guess I liked it. The action scenes were unbelievably amazing. Seriously, you could take out all the parts with Shia and Megan Fox and the rest of the humans and it wouldn’t make a difference. Optimus Prime was just so freaking badass. But the rest of the movie? Ugh. The writing was horrible, and every other bit of dialogue kept making me cringe. The jokes were funny at first, but they were just so much more crude and outrageous that you just knew they threw it in there for kicks. The scene where Sam’s mom got high was so stupid. I hated the whole bit. Actually, I just hated the parents in general. I loved them in the first movie, but they trashed the mom in this sequel. I would say more, but I can’t believe I’ve wasted these many words on reviewing this movie already.