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Sunday Afternoon
Apr. 21st, 2002 06:04 pmLemme see ....
Grad Dress: Half-check.
Grad Shoes: Yup. And quite the steal.
Grad Accessories: Double check. Just in case.
New Music: A.L. Webber and music from LoTR
Grad tickets: Check x8.
Grad date: And an x is put in the box. Three times. Mwaha.
I feel accomplished. Really.
But also, there''s things that can ruin a good mood pretty quickly, as I've learned.
Like last night, for example. I just finished sewing the top of the dress for grad, and put it on for Mom's inspection and approval. She seems to like it, and it fits much better than the rough copy. But _then_ she starts finding all these little flaws that _I_ thought were insignificant. I mean, I'm not trying to sells this bloody thing on the runway. _I_ made this dress for _my_ graduation banquet. It's really inspiring for you to repeat, "Oh, I wish that I was here to help you with it." Perhaps you mean well, Mom, but it's very belittling when you repeat it over and over again.
"Oh, I wish I was here to help you with _this_."
"Oh, I wish I could've been here to show you how to do _this_ properly."
_Thanks_ Mom. Damning with faint praise. What happened to you looking at my stick figures with nail polish and saying, "Oh, honey, it's so _beautiful?"
Perhaps I've grown up, by I'm still a kid in some aspects. I mean, this is my grad. I want it to be perfect, yes, and I worked so hard on that top that it _was_ perfect.
In my eyes, I guess.
And today. When I was eating lunch with Mom in the mall's food court. She brought up the subject of my talking on the phone too much. That Dad's going to hit the roof if the phone bill is grossly over the limit this month. Damn phone companies. What happened to the days when free long distance on evenings and weekends was unlimited? Yeah, it's really nice when I have to say, "Yeah, I've only got three minutes left for today. Can you finish up your story later?"
Hell,_no_. I need communication. When I'm on the phone, especially late at night, it feels like there's no such thing as distance apart.
I want to rip Telus a new one.
And when I'm walking the dog, I see a bunch of eight-year olds playing with scooters and bikes on the corner. I hear them arguing over who's turn it is next, quite clearly, in fact.
"You frigging asshole."
What's the world coming to? I muse. ... I muse.
Grad Dress: Half-check.
Grad Shoes: Yup. And quite the steal.
Grad Accessories: Double check. Just in case.
New Music: A.L. Webber and music from LoTR
Grad tickets: Check x8.
Grad date: And an x is put in the box. Three times. Mwaha.
I feel accomplished. Really.
But also, there''s things that can ruin a good mood pretty quickly, as I've learned.
Like last night, for example. I just finished sewing the top of the dress for grad, and put it on for Mom's inspection and approval. She seems to like it, and it fits much better than the rough copy. But _then_ she starts finding all these little flaws that _I_ thought were insignificant. I mean, I'm not trying to sells this bloody thing on the runway. _I_ made this dress for _my_ graduation banquet. It's really inspiring for you to repeat, "Oh, I wish that I was here to help you with it." Perhaps you mean well, Mom, but it's very belittling when you repeat it over and over again.
"Oh, I wish I was here to help you with _this_."
"Oh, I wish I could've been here to show you how to do _this_ properly."
_Thanks_ Mom. Damning with faint praise. What happened to you looking at my stick figures with nail polish and saying, "Oh, honey, it's so _beautiful?"
Perhaps I've grown up, by I'm still a kid in some aspects. I mean, this is my grad. I want it to be perfect, yes, and I worked so hard on that top that it _was_ perfect.
In my eyes, I guess.
And today. When I was eating lunch with Mom in the mall's food court. She brought up the subject of my talking on the phone too much. That Dad's going to hit the roof if the phone bill is grossly over the limit this month. Damn phone companies. What happened to the days when free long distance on evenings and weekends was unlimited? Yeah, it's really nice when I have to say, "Yeah, I've only got three minutes left for today. Can you finish up your story later?"
Hell,_no_. I need communication. When I'm on the phone, especially late at night, it feels like there's no such thing as distance apart.
I want to rip Telus a new one.
And when I'm walking the dog, I see a bunch of eight-year olds playing with scooters and bikes on the corner. I hear them arguing over who's turn it is next, quite clearly, in fact.
"You frigging asshole."
What's the world coming to? I muse. ... I muse.
