Go Your Own Way
June 4, 2009 § Leave a comment
I can’t believe that the first piece of advice my mom gave me regarding the break-up was that I shouldn’t be so concerned about finding a boyfriend who is Christian. What?! Not only does she clearly not know me at all, this is just another example of her total inability to express anything close to sympathy. I can tell that she’s pissed at him, though, which makes me feel a little better because at least she cares to some extent.
The second thing she told me was not to be so easy, although not in those exact words. She’s right…I need to be more careful, more calculating. “You do not need a boyfriend, nor will you lack one. For now, you need to focus on school and work,” she said, and though that is only an imperfect translation from the Chinese, that’s what I took her words to mean. It is perhaps the most [and only] empowering thing she’s ever told me.
When I told my dad I was going to go have a talk with J a few days ago, he asked me if I wanted to bring a knife. Ha ha.
[In other parental news, I saw my dad pat my mom on the butt while they were cooking dinner the other day. LOL.]
I Could Write A Book On This
May 31, 2009 § Leave a comment
This summer break at home, I can hardly contain my contempt for my brother. He’s rude, ungrateful and undisciplined. We usually have an amiable relationship — I love Larry to pieces — but this time around, I can’t stnad him. This is, I believe, partly due to his impending adolescence; he’s becoming the moody teenager that he’s bound to be for the next five years.
I have realized that although he and I have been through many of the same family struggles, there are aspects to our personalities and upbringings that are fundamentally different. In regards to upbringing, the one major difference lies in my mother, since my dad’s role in childrearing has been minimal at best.
When I was younger [and this still applies, for the most part], I was scared shitless of my mom. One time in elementary school in Downer’s Grove, she came to the bus stop to pick me up after school, which was rather unusual. Being the impressionable young child that I was, I tried impressing the older kids by implementing a new word I had learned. “Oh, there’s my dang mom.” They laughed, and repeated this to my mother as we all exited the bus.
When Violence Is An Answer
May 25, 2009 § 3 Comments
My parents and I went to go watch my brother march in our town’s annual Memorial Day parade today. All middle school band kids are required to participate, although the lazy little turd has yet to actually play his instrument [percussion] in the parade, since he’s too apathetic to audition for drumline — he’s always been shouldering a [fake] rifle or something extraneous like that. Even though I was incredibly tired, the parade provided an unexpectedly good source of amusement.
Here I am with my mother:
Seeing all the veterans roused feelings of gratitude in me for these men and women who gave their time to serve their country, whether voluntarily or not. Most of them have probably lost friends and endured many hardships, and I was genuinely glad that they were being given the day to be honored.
The gun salute:
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This band director actually made me laugh out loud. He looked so cartoonish:
This is probably because my marching band experience is limited to the required years in middle school, but I thought these miniature music stands were the coolest thing ever:
Memorial Day is definitely the day for Americans to trot out their vintage vehicles. This one was particularly sweet:
I have never seen an orchestra traveling on foot before. I didn’t even know they could play while walking [a truckload of the bigger string instruments followed behind].
There was a squad of bagpipe players. Are they always men? I don’t seem to recall every seeing a female bagpiper. Bagpipist? They sounded really good, but that didn’t keep me from chuckling at their garb. Men in pleated skirts is always a funny sight, and their ankle coverings made them look like clomping Clydesdales:
Here is my brother in the center of his school banner, trying his best to ignore my parents’ cheers and my delighted cackles:
Marching bands always sound better from the audience than when I’m marching in the row struggling to maintain my embouchure and worrying that my thumb will fall off from supporting the weight of my clarinet. I like the shiny instruments too:
As usual, I took care to notice all of the Asian children marching in the parade [Kennedy Junior High had a TON. Little nerds]. I observed that in almost every Boy/Cub Scout pack, there was at least one Asian boy. But in all of the Girl/Brownie Scout troupes, there was nary an Asian girl to be seen. Why is this? Hmmm. [Of course I would take a post about Memorial Day and put an Asian spin on it somehow. Of course.]
Question
May 23, 2009 § 1 Comment
If one were to walk into the bathroom of a 12-year-old boy and find a ruler on the counter, what would one presume that he was using the ruler to measure?
auradis 