glycerine

I've been meaning to write more often but I just can't seem to find the words to say or enough motivation. I apologize, readers.



anyways, the thing that's been bothering me the most lately is my mother. not that she's a bother, it's just that I always feel guilty around her. whenever she's upset or obviously miserable about life I always feel guilty for having been born. I know that I can't control that and I know that I sound pretty ridiculous, but it's just how I feel. I mean, I realize that it's not my fault that things turned out this way but I can't help but feel partially responsible for her life being like this. she just seems so unfulfilled and I want to believe that it's not my fault. I'm sure that there are a lot of teenagers who think this way, but I dunno. sometimes it just seems like I'm the only one going through these things. /:

tomorrow is the last day of school before Winter Break. I haven't really decided how I feel about that yet. on the one hand, two weeks off to do nothing but work and sleep, yay! and on the other hand, two weeks off but nothing to do but work and sleep, yay. ): I don't mind working and sleep is always good, but it just seems so monotonous and I'm getting of sick of the whole 9 - 5 thing. I realize this sounds ridiculous coming from a seventeen year old, but whatever. I can't really say that it's untrue. I at least want a job where I'm somewhat challenged, or I have to use my brain. my job is mindless and boooring. ):

on another note, I've been asked if I'm a lesbian about four times in the last month. I'm not. Mum and Grandma Pat cornered me at a family gathering and asked me in a roundabout way there, and then Mum asked me straight up in the car a week or two ago. I was like, ugghhh. seriously? just because I don't like to talk about guys that I'm interested in with my mother does not make me a lesbian. y'know I thought it was kinda funny because this is the third time they've asked or hinted at it since I was fifteen, but then today George said something at supper that was just really offensive. I was sitting there talking to my brother about how he's kind of a wuss (growing up in a house full of women and all) and how he's the one that's made us all uptight because he's kind of a little terror, and then George said to me, "those are the words of a dyke!" and I was really offended. plus, he could've chosen better words. just because he's homophobic does not mean that saying shit like that is okay. ):

I set up my desktop computer today. (:
for the last two months I've been slowly trying to set it back up again, and today I finally managed to set it up successfully. (: I got the internet all worked out and I've managed to get everything working and awesome again. (: I'm very pleased with myself.

so I'm like, 95% sure that I'm getting the student of the month award from my Social teacher. it's a cool honour and whatever, but I didn't really want it.. I mean, I realize that that sounds incredibly bratty and stupid, but I just go to class and get my work done. yeah, I like Social Studies and Politics, but I don't need a student of the month award to remind me of this. anyways, point of the story is that K's kinda jealous. I understand and she totally has every right to be. if it were up to me, she'd totally be getting the award, but it's not up to me. ): she works her ass off and she's doing better than I am in Social, so why isn't she getting the award? on all of our tests and essays and homework and stuff, her grades are a few points higher than mine, and I totally think that she's the one that deserves to be getting the award. I don't. I feel bad because I know that K should be getting it and she isn't and I don't understand why she isn't. it just doesn't make any sense to me. ): either way though, I am grateful. I just wish he had thought about all of this before making his decision.

I guess that that's all I really have to say for today.
I'll try to post more often over the Winter Break, but no promises.
keep updated and have a wonderful evening. (:

- tannikkaaa.