words and things
The years between eighteen and twenty-eight are the hardest, psychologically. It’s then you realize this is make or break, you no longer have the excuse of youth, and it is time to become an adult – but you are not ready.
— Helen Mirren (via forever-and-alwayss)
I just submitted the second draft of my thesis to my advisors and…
I look like this right now:
I wish I looked like this (and that someone was with me and washing my sorrows out of my hair)
Now have one of Tom Hardy crying, cuz he’s hot
The crying, I think, is a mix of terror and relief. I have turned in a second draft that’s a whole lot better than my first draft, hence, relief. But what if my readers think that my second draft is shite? Hence, terror.
Also just crying for everything, everywhere, always probably. Writing for 48 hours straight with little sleep or food will do that to ya.
And now, the swimming pigs of the Bahamas!
Always gotta post the cute animal pics.
You’re not the kind of girl who settles. Keep not settling.
Joy Wilson (via victoriamonserrath)
I love this. Reminds me of a few people I know…myself included.
Seriously. They are ridiculous sometimes. Here I am, furiously trying to finish my thesis, and they’re bugging me about nonsense.
My dad wanted me to go with him to visit my brother and sister-in-law and extended family out of state, the day after Christmas. I would like to see my bro and sis but have no desire to be in Minnesota in December, when it’s freezing, and especially when I could be in a cabin in the woods, reading and writing and sorting out my life, or on a beach off the coast of Honduras learning how to scuba-dive.
But I knew it would mean a lot to my dad to come with him. He enjoys traveling with me, and even though it’s his mostly his fault that we never go visit his family as a family, I know it pains him that he can’t be there celebrating the holidays with all of his children. He infuriates me sometimes, but I do love him and appreciate all the good he’s done for me (like helping me pay for graduate school, and bailing me out of emergencies time and again).
I also knew that I couldn’t give him an answer until I discussed the trip with my mom. Let’s review: I’m a 27 year old women who can’t make a decision about leaving the state for three days without asking my mom first. She has a tendency to get upset if she’s left out of the loop—her family is her life, and so when she feels left out of plans she feels like she’s lost her tie to thing that she’s living for. Again, she can infuriate me sometimes, but I love her and appreciate all the good things she’s done for me (she’s not just a mom, but a friend, too).
So here I am, trying to be a dutiful daughter, trying to mediate between my two sometimes-psycho parents while I have two billion other, more important things I could be doing and I still manage to piss them off.
Here’s how it goes down: Dad calls asks about trip he needs to know write this instant, I say ugh wait let me talk to mom first, he’s pissed, says why do you need to talk to your mother, because I’m considerate, I say, and call my mother. I ask her how she’d feel about me going on this trip, she says, sullenly, “I figured he’d ask you.” I say, well if you have a good reason for why I shouldn’t go, I won’t go. That’s why I’m asking you first. She doesn’t have a good reason (or any reason that she can articulate), so I say, okay, I’ll tell him I’m going. It’s after Christmas and only for a few days anyway.
I call Dad back and say I can go, remind him, again, that my graduation is on Saturday (I just found this out yesterday) and he complains that he’ll have to cancel the root canal he had scheduled. (He goes to the dentist in a border town in Mexico, because he ridiculous, and thinks he’s saving himself a lot of money. This means that he has to drive himself the 6 hours it takes to get from our city to the border, and drive himself back frequently while he’s recovering from anesthesia. Did I mention that he is 70 years old? He also sometime forgets to let anyone know when he’s going to the dentist, so when he disappears for a couple days I think, “Well he’s either at the dentist or he’s dead.” Seriously, there’s nothing I can do to stop him. He’ll probably outlive me because he’s so freaking stubborn he’ll beat death to submission.
Anyway, I think it’s ridiculous that he’s complaining about having to reschedule his Mexican root canal to go to my graduation, so I say very calmly, “Honestly, if it’s that big of a deal, Dad, don’t go to my graduation. I’m only going myself because it’s important to Mom.” So then he gets mad at me, and says angrily, “Well I guess I just won’t go then, if that’s what you want.”
My parents: Totally awesome at twisting a person’s words.
I should have written my thesis about them. But here I am, angry, incensed, because after all that I’ve gone through the past two weeks (and they KNOW how much I’ve gone through) they can’t set aside their petty shit and leave me alone for one fucking week so that I can actually finish what I need to finish and get my damn Master’s degree.
And now I’m too upset to work and I was on SUCH A ROLL. So, so, very angry.
IT GOT BETTER