Well You Must Be A Girl With Shoes Like That…
I am on vacation and I have nothing to do.
Erik can’t take time off – he can’t afford it. So I am hanging out at home, with my mom (also on vacation) and watching the Olympics and rerun episodes of Jon & Kate Plus 8 (shocking new obsession) and What Not To Wear and movies on the PVR.
I am vaguely depressed because Erik has no time off, but yesterday he told me that his parents have disappeared into the wilderness of Alberta (possibly British Columbia, who knows) and run away to camp without Erik or his brother or the dog. There was a possibility that Erik and I could have gone camping this weekend, but now he’s stuck at home because his parents are gone and someone needs to look after the dog. Erik’s brother, Chris, is working everyday this weekend, so he can’t do it, which leaves Erik. Keep in mind that this dog needs to be walked twice, if not three times, a day – which is fine, if someone is around to do it. But Erik leaves for work at 7.15 am, and his brother often sleeps in (because he’s a lazy shit) and then works all afternoon and most of the evening, and then Erik comes home around 5 or 5.30 (depending on traffic) and has to walk the dog after dinner. And then someone needs to take the dog out quickly before everyone goes to bed.
Which makes it really difficult for Erik. And which means we cannot go anywhere this weekend, which sucks. Oh well. Not much we can do about this.
In fact, he is so restricted from going anywhere that I’m probably going to spend a night or two over there with him. At least that way, he can get up and go to work and I can take care of the dog (if I stay home tomorrow night, Thursday). And then he won’t be stuck with only his brother (who he gets annoyed with really easily) and the dog, and I can keep him entertained.
— sudden total and random topic change here —
I don’t know if I mentioned it at all here, but my grandma died on May 29th. For the past (almost) three months, we’ve been cleaning out her apartment. We have until September 1st to finish, but the people who run the building she lived in are pressuring the fuck out of us to hurry up and get out. Everytime I hear about someone calling my mother or aunt to say, "when will you be out? are you almost finished yet? we need you out as soon as possible," I want to go over there and tear a new one into the ass of whoever is saying it this time.
I’m just making the point here that we are still fucking greiving the loss of the woman and they are trying to get us out immediately, something I feel is horrificly un-PC of them. I don’t care that for them, tenants dying is second-nature, but this was our mother and grandmother. If they call any of us again, I will be over there, to knock on the door of their management representative and bitch-slap the hell out of her.
The other thing I need to talk about (even if it’s only really talking to myself) is how annoying it is to have my family (aunts and mother) constantly offering and pushing things on me that I don’t want or need. One of the diarists I read here mentioned today that her mother was offering her an item of her late grandmother’s (who actually died before the aforementioned diarist was born) and after she left and got to her own home, she emailed her mother to accept the item after refusing it while at her parents home. She mentioned how she felt guilted into taking it.
I’m hoping to move out and a secondary hope I have because of all the stuff I’ve been getting from the apartment are things that I’ll be able to actually put to USE when I move out. I truly hate accepting things because I feel guilty. I was offered the set of silver wine goblets that my grandparents drank from at their wedding, and said no and fabulously enough, I don’t feel bad about it.
The system that we have at my grandmother’s apartment (or had, rather, since we’re to the point where we’ve mostly got only cleaning left to do) was to each grab an empty box and write our name on it, then put the things we wanted/were taking in it. One of my aunts put a bunch of stuff into my box without asking whether or not I wanted it; the stuff she put into my box is all stuff I don’t even remotely care about (some craft stuff and then a few oddly shaped pieces of plastic that go together in some way that I don’t understand but must exist) and while I understand that there are a lot of things we’d like to see stay in the family, I don’t want things that are going to sit in storage and gather dust for years. My aunts are both becoming instantly famous for taking things that they have absolutely NO use for. Things that they are going to look at 5 years from now and say "I remember when I was 7 and I used this" but will have no use for now, and I refuse to do that.
I’m not saying that my diarist comrade is wrong to feel guilted into taking things that belonged to her grandmother. Not even close. I’ve taken several things that simply have memories and emotions attached to them (a teapot Christmas ornament, silverware I’ll VERY rarely use, a couple pieces of my great-grandmother’s crystal, etc.) but the majority of the things I’ve gotten are things I’ll be able to use when I move out (everyday silverware, well-used and well-loved glasses, a handheld food-processor thing, a threadbare tablecloth and, the prize of prizes, a hot pink, plastic ice-cream scoop that I used when I was four).
My life recently has been a tear-down – I’ve been doing my best to get rid of old papers and cards that I don’t care about but kept only because they meant something to me five years ago, and to dispose of old toys and cds and movies, etc. that I don’t listen to or watch or play with anymore. It annoys me to think that I kept some of that crap as long as I did, so I’m getting rid of it now. Better late than never.
Anyways. I got off topic. Diarist friend (you know who you are), I understand, and I hope that maybe next time your mother tries to goad you into taking something, that you’re able to stick to your guns and not feel guilty for saying no. Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve come to find that saying no (especially to my family -squee-) is a good thing; I think it builds character and makes you stronger, makes you understand your limits better and makes you a cooler person overall for knowing when to tell people to shove off and leave you alone about things.
– chelsea dagger – the fratellis –
<3 I do refuse most of the things she attempts to give me, believe it or not, but somethings I feel I must take. She offered me about 15 other things that I turned down today. She tries to give me these things because she thinks they're useful, but they're not. Like a stupid table clock or my old doll clothes. I have the old doll clothes and I'm trying to figure out how to get rid of them.
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In fact, every time I go over to my parents’ house, I come home and automatically want to purge my house of all unneeded items. That is one good thing about moving often–you’re forced to get rid of crap you don’t need. When I moved to this house, I threw out three boxes of photos. Before you think that is stupid of me, they were all photos of people I don’t like/care about/know or of places
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I had no idea where they were or places I had never even been but someone gave me. THREE BOXES. I narrowed my boxes of photos down to one. I even want to get rid of my old year books. Those weren’t the best times of my life and why do I want them? But people convince me to keep them. I also got rid of TONS of paper when I moved. I shredded tons of bills and tax forms, etc. that I didn’t need.
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And gave away carloads of stuff to Salvation army. But I still feel like it isn’t enough.
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I rarely take things that my mother offers me, but sometimes she succeeds at guilting me into it. Anyway, I’m glad someone can relate.
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Also, you’re note is so sweet and made me smile. Thank you so much <3
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I just sent you a gmail chat invite from lalalovely81
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