Smells like Happiness

So you'd think after losing ~$750 worth of stuff (some of which I can't buy again as they were collector's items) I'd be more upset and stuff. But I'm not. My only conclusion is that the stress from exams is dominating all other emotions--so when I come down from this exam-high I'll be more affected, I guess. Though I think it's not the stolen goods that really make my stomach churn; it's the fact that someone violated my personal space. Someone came in with out permission and touched my stuff with their scum-like hands, making a mess in the process--the very thought makes me cringe.

This ordeal could have been much worse: if my computer was stolen I'd probably cry--not over the fact that it was expensive and the like, but because I have thousands of pictures, dozens of stories and other random shit on my hard drive that I'd miss tremendously.

The real kicker is that I'm not insured.

Moving on...

I've turned into my mom's safe wall again. They're declaring bankruptcy, and it's taken quite the toll on my mom. I was looking forward to living at home for the summer (unlike last), but things have drastically changed and it seems like it's going to be a stressful four months. Eric said he'd help me find a job here (he's like amazing when it comes to that stuff), so hopefully I can avoid living at home. We'll see what happens I guess. The upside is that it'll probably be no problem receiving OSAP.

Remember the rule "'i' before e, except after 'c'"? It’s bullshit.

I don't think it's only the anonymity of the internet that evokes random 'drama', so to speak. I think it's also the fact that the person making some rude/crass/whatever comment knows that s/he is safe when it comes to any physical harm. If people knew that their physical safety wasn't threatened, they'd speak up more often than not.

Cindy made a comment awhile back that made me somewhat think. She said that it was weird how I’m one of her best friends, but she knows very little about me. What does being a best friend entail? Does it extend to the point where I’m supposed to know every little detail about her? Or does the title just encompass me being there for her whenever she needs me, and include how we can always have a good time when we’re together? Regardless of this, I’m not one for being overly open for friends--which is weird because I’m not one for caring what other people think. All through out high school, I was always lending an ear/shoulder to any friend who needed it. When a friend had a problem, they’d usually talk to me about it (along with whomever else they saw fit). But when I had a problem, I felt really guilty going to someone and saying “look, I need to talk”. I don’t know where that stems from, but apparently it runs in my family. My mom is like that, along my grandfather--and he died because of it. It’s like we can help others but not ourselves. I didn’t know which was problem worth talking about and which was a douche-like problem.

I was glad I got a journal (albeit a Livejournal) because I could inadvertently say what was on my mind to some friends with out having to go into too much detail or looking emo--but I still lacked the (I guess you could say) courage to say more. Then I started feeling self conscious over my entries. In the back of my mind I thought that my friends would laugh at some emotional post and this would cause me not to post it. I feared for my (what I thought were decent) ideas and content when they were laid out in front of my friends--but not strangers.

So I created another journal, where I was more open on my view of the world and the like with out fear of who read it (because I knew my friends weren’t reading it--aside from a few whom I told). I could stand a stranger’s criticism or even a stranger’s rude remark over how I’m retarded--but if certain friends were to do that, I’d feel more self conscious because…I don’t know why, really. I now have told more friends about this journal because I’m more comfortable with them reading it. Maybe it’s because I know they’d be honest about their remarks over an entry. I don’t know.

What was I trying to say? I don’t remember.

My idea of a best friend in high school was someone who I knew everything about--their favourite colour to their worst fear. My idea of a best friend now is someone who I get along really well with and someone who I know will be there if I need them. I don’t necessary know everything about them, but enough to know what I love about them.






Claire - “Be prepared for Claire.” Ahaha, she rocks my world.