fuck, that woman always has a way of ruining my mood.

I can't say I remember the last time I've even gone on this site to read a friend's entry. Maybe I was in Irvine. I can't say.

LJ is a place that can tolerate my bitchiness, my emoness, my whining. My other site can't. So I thought this entry would be more appropriate here.

How many times have I written about the complexity of my relationship with my mother? Too many times to count. It's frustrating to think of ways to deal with her because it's absolutely beyond me. I can deal with situations where I may disagree with someone, but in this case, the status of my relationship with said person is such that I hit a brick wall of frustration and hopelessness before falling into the never-ending hole in my heart of resignation and sadness. It never really goes away. For the most part, it hides itself in my room, in my baking, in my chores, anywhere that means walking away from her. Sitting still forces me to recognize the fact that, though she may love me, she doesn't like me very much. Though she may be proud of the person I will become, the present person - though I do attempt to help around the house to gain like points with her (yes, like points) - doesn't do enough around the house and she would really appreciate more help. Not that she has started training her boys how to pick up after themselves, either.

So instead of like points, I get neutral points. That would be the best way to describe them. When I do help out, she doesn't notice. She also doesn't yell. However, this does delay my negative points, where she yells at me that she would like help around the house. Not more help, mind you. She ignores the help that I do attempt to give her and focuses on what I don't do. She's frustrating and it makes me nervous to be around her. I wish I was exaggerating. But most of my feelings are exaggerations, anyway. In any case, being around her makes me uneasy.

I really wish it wasn't like this. I have friends who act like they like me. I'm funny. I say ridiculous things. Instead of rolling their eyes at me, they laugh. They find a way to use their nice tone around me. You know, I'm not asking her to be my friend. I'm not that desperate. And I don't expect her to coddle me, either. But if she could just be nice to me like I want to be nice to her. If I could just feel some of the warmth that she has for my littlest brother so that I wouldn't be so on-edge around her, I think something could grow from that. If I could feel that I wasn't always an annoying bother to her, some sort of pest, it would really help my self esteem, too. But (without sarcasm), that may be asking too much.

I really try to not ask for much. I'm making something for her trip tomorrow "with the girls" not for brownie points, but for my own point system. It would really make me feel less like shit and less likely to cry under the pool table, thinking dark thoughts.

i wish the sun would stay like this. actually, i wish it would stay where it was maybe an hour ago. around that time, the condo is usually lit by the sun coming from the west window... there's only one west window. i was going to look up the direction through google when i realized that the sun sets from east to west. it's in the window. it's setting. therefore it's the west window.

and now, there's no more sun. it's not dark, just hidden behind the trees and other condos in this complex.

anyway, when the sun it where it's suppose to be, where i prefer it, it relaxes me.

is this some sort of metaphor?

believe me, i'm trying to figure this out as i write. when i woke up, i woke up hot like i usually do. i had my fan on, as usual, but the sunroof and lack of windows in the loft overwhelm my ambitious fan. it hasn't died yet. i'm surprised, considering how long i keep it on. it was hot downstairs, too - even with the windows open. but when the sun is setting and striking an annoying-but-hardly-blinding streak on my face from the couch, it's never as hot anymore. to my left, east, i guess, the screen window that had previously allowed warm air to infiltrate is now much calmer. it's like it can tell the night is coming and it's preparing. i like the night. it's much more quiet than the day.

but when the sun is in the west window, there's such a bright, hazy glow that seems to fill the entire room. it's not like normal light. it's such a pretty, orange color.

when that's over though, and my moment of calm passes, i'm still in the same place i was before. on my computer, looking at non-profits and jobs in monterey, weighing the options of staying in irvine versus moving back home for three months. if that is the case, i'm only giving myself three months. i need money and i need experience. i think i'll miss the hazy glow from this window. and the light traces of jasmine that no one seems to notice before i mention it. i will miss the walks with my friends, but that passed a few months ago. i am afraid that if i leave and come back, my friends will have found a way of replacing me. it happened when i went to france and was lost. i don't think i replaced them. i specifically remember wishing that i could replace them, then realizing that they couldn't be replaced because they were just too awesome. but when i came back, and it hurt because i didn't and couldn't see them as much, i slowly made new friends, whom i adore. it doesn't take away from the love i have for my old friends, or the memories i've shared with them, but it was just more convenient. time and convenience, the recipe to good friends.

so if i come back, and they have their own friends, own lives, apart from me, then that's okay. they're supposed to. as am i. i don't even know if it's even irvine i'll be coming back to. san diego was fun.

who knows. like i've said before, this resignation makes me feel dead inside. it feels like growing up.

so... I'm not depending on that internship. i'm not sure i ever really was. i mean, i worked a relatively long time on it, and it would have been nice, but they haven't called so.... i'll deal. i guess i'm at that point where i just have to roll with it, with everything. instead of pushing against what i don't like.

i feel like i'm dying, like i'm losing my fight in me. i want very much to fight against something, but when i think about it, i'm only fighting against myself.

i'm trying not to be a perfectionist, anymore. with singing, yeah... because you won't hear me singing. but with writing, i don't strive for perfection. i've learned to work with what i have and fix later. actually, i'm still learning. everything is a constant effort.

i will miss school. not this fulfilling my breadth crap that i have to do, but the other stuff... the fun stuff, i want back. seeing my cousin and how happy he is, it reminds me of how happy i was when i got here. it was such an exciting and terrifying experience. a few days ago i was excited, thinking about all the possibilities. but now... i don't know.

i'm thinking about going back home for three months.. to get some money. by "get", i mean save up. and get my license. yeah, there's the whole problem with that. i didn't get my license in time, and now i have to take my permit test again and it's all just such a bitch. i just don't know how long i'll be able to be there without all hell breaking loose. or i could stay here. idk. i know i could be an intern (bitch) at some paper at home, probably.

and i know, i've been going back and forth for the past few months, maybe years... since i've come back from France everything has been crashing down as the end of this chapter of my life has been making itself known. i would hate listening to myself, too. only thing is, i can't turn my head off.

i'm writing a song for my intern app due tomorrow. i'm terrified i can't/won't finish in time. it can only imply that i have no motivation of my own now the college is over. i don't think that's true. still, it feels like people are working so much harder than i am at things. this can't possibly be the case all the time.

even if i do finish my song, that doesn't mean i'm done with the rest of my application.

august 12, here i come.

I'm confused. I've been confused for forever.It's weird how I'm always whiny on here. Seriously, I'm never usually whiny on my moleskin journal. But then again, writing on paper is just better. You don't get those computer-cancer headaches. I've had a headache for days... since I've came back from home. Maybe I have some sort of virus. But I don't feel sick.

Driving lessons here will cost me $600. I told my mom over the phone and she started sighing a lot over the phone and talking about paying back loans. I think she knows that it triggers some guilt sentiment in my mind that says, "just go home and save money." I wish there was a cheaper alternative. She was going to give me $300 for graduation, so I have that... but the rest I'm not so sure of. I wanted to stay here. Yes, because it's easy. Yes, because my cousin is coming here in the fall. Yes, because I told my littles, I told my friends. Yes, because I'm terrified of being sucked into the black hole that is Monterey County*.

I cried on my way to the airport this weekend after spending time with my family. It's this life of sunshine and friends and nonprofits where I can make a difference or it's home, where all my family is, where my ex-friends are, a place where I become more and more alienated from the longer I'm away. When I think of home, I think of my family. I miss them, I like seeing my family from the bay, but they aren't making my decisions, I am. It's not fair to do this to me. Because I don't understand the place I come from. And when my youth comes back to me... being honked at during my walks home from middle school, the anger and resentment I felt living at home, not being able to talk about how everything wasn't okay and not wanting to go home... I can't do that anymore. I've blocked so much of that out of who I am now. I just don't understand. Maybe I never did.

And now money is an issue because now and for the rest of my life, money will always be an issue. So do I go home? Do I stay here? Anyone who has anything to say, please do. I feel like running away, though you can't run away from the rest of your life. I think this is why I grind my teeth at night. And why my headache will not go away.

Education is supposed to prepare you for the rest of your life. Now that I think I know what I want, it's stopping me.

*It's a black hole... to me. You could say the same for Orange. It can get pretty awful.

i freaked out again. i feel so dead and nonfunctional.

i prayed for a few days in a row two weeks ago. friday, i balanced my chakras and it felt oh so good. and then now i'm trying to meditate. i know this doesn't really work out logically, but i'm just trying to do what i can understand.

anyway, i was up all night again. i'm considering joining the peace corps. two and a half years of m life in another country to figure out what i want to do with the rest of my real life. do i really want fidm? at the bottom of everything (if that's what the phrase is,) i don't think that's what i want. i want to be happy. but i also want a job that pays me money, not songs or sprinkles and donuts... though i would like a donut right now... or sprinkles. and they have a good program for jobs, because women are materialistic. we always want to look pretty. and there will always be a need for makeup. unless we have another depression and makeup supplies start going to the war effort.

it's possible and not completely off tangent, i think. but if it is, i'm sorry. i'm sleepy. it's 8:30 and i haven't slept.

well, i wanted to write about peace corps, and i did. so i'm done? and sleeeepy.

the last time i updated this was three weeks ago. i don't even remember. i'll have to check my last entry.... i don't remember it.

i've been avoiding writing in here. i feel like my life isn't that interesting maybe to begin with or something. or maybe i just feel like this is a waste. but i'm starting to feel like i'm scared. that for some reason or another, i just can't reflect on myself. because honestly, i like my life. i love my friends. i get frustrated at times, but that's normal. i've been really stressed out about my paper, so i avoid it. i was looking at my wall of post-its, also known as Jocelyn's wall of internal disaster and mayhem, where i have all the bits and pieces of my thesis (it might not be all of it). so i was looking at it and it was like one ounce of terror going through my body. so i went to go brush my teeth. and as i was going through the hypothetical situation in my head of my biological dad surprising me out of the blue one day (it really is one of my fears. and i do like to torture myself this way), it suddenly occurred to me that i can't remember a time where i've seen my mom and biological father talk to each other. i remember an instance where my dad was talking to him when i was little and i was surprised at how civil it was. but i specifically remember my mom being in the next room. i remembered this because if this hypothetical situation ever did occur, i would call my mom. she thinks that she's not involved anymore in the decisions that i choose to make, but i feel like when it comes to this, she just stopped. she never left me much to work with. i have a biological father that i don't know and don't feel comfortable getting to know because i just feel stuck. there is no connection between my mom and biological father other than me and i don't even feel it. they're like strangers, stuck involuntarily to each other because of me. they may not know it, but it will always be there. there's a giant elephant in the fucking room because they totally know it, but won't fess up to it.

i know what my mom wants me to do. she wants it to stay like this. and okay, maybe i won't go around blaming her and saying that it would bother her life because i do believe she has my best interests at heart, but i wish she would stop pretending to be switzerland. what is up with that, anyway? allowing me to choose? are you trying to do what your mother didn't let you do? i don't get that.

sometimes i think he's forgotten about me. but i'd like to think that i reappear sometimes. as a little girl, maybe. i mean, of course he doesn't know me. but he knows the ideal of me. and ideals are pretty. i don't have an ideal of him. the only reason i remembered him tonight was because i was looking at my hands and then realized that i hate my thumbs only because he said that i had his thumbs. (i don't, btw. if anything, it's a mix between the two.)i remembered i hated that comment the moment he said it. and that makes me really sad because how am i supposed to hold hate for someone i don't even know? i only hold hate for what he represents. my chakras are so fucked up and muddied. it's like i can feel it. i hate my old stupid new age crap.

so as i was thinking all of this, it occurred to me how messed up this all is. i've never seen my mom confront this, much like i choose not to confront a lot. and me not confronting my mother about this is just one of those things i choose not to confront. and i would never willingly contact my biological father without fixing me and my mom, first.

the point of the story is, that while i was thinking all of this and crying, i was also simultaneously having a panic attack. i started breathing heavily, i got lightheaded, the room got a bit dizzy. i put my head between my legs and got better after awhile.

and while i do think this is an important issue that one day i may be forced to address, i mostly think that the panic attack was due to looking at the mayhem wall for too long.

maybe this will be a full-entry, maybe not. why lie? i was leaning more towards the not because i have a presentation tomorrow by myself in french aussi qu'un examen final de l'union europeenne. je n'ai pas le desir a l'etudier. mais, il faut que je fasse quelque chose pour la presentation demain. i want to not pass the final for UE. i just don't care. i don't want to study. maybe i'll look over some stuff. whatever.

tant pis pour moi. j'avais une cig in my little case all this time and, grace a patrick, it's gone. he told me of his habit... i'm sure it's only for finals... with most of us, it's usually during finals. it just feels really good. i've been so stressed lately, and i drank for that. stupid me. and not being able to sleep? that would've help me with that problem, too. too bad i waited until now to realize all this.

i think i may know why i have this "travel, travel, travel" mentality. before, i had always attributed it to my mom and her "fun days" ended quickly. you know what i mean. once you have a kid, you just have different priorities... ones that aren't so selfish. en tout cas, je me souviens quand j'etais petite et je suis allee a la maison de ma grand-mere. she didn't have many vhs tapes to watch other than the ones i brought over, but the ones that she did have... i remember them now. she had a couple of travel tapes of different countries. the one i remember is egypt. i just have this vision in my mind of watching this tape as it slowly panned a pyramid or something. i think i remembered asking her what the tape was or why she had it. she said she knew she wasn't going to go there, but she could learn about it through the tape.

so there's the story of the first type of tape she had. now for the irrelevant. she had these religious tapes for us to watch - me and my cousin(s). i think i was the one to mostly watch them. and before anyone goes off that brainwashing brainwashing tangent, they were good for me. my mom wasn't very religious. she lives off of what's right more than what's "right." my grandma told me she was catholic, my mom was catholic, but because i wasn't baptized, was only of catholic-religion. it's funny how i remember that. i didn't really realize what that meant, only that i could run around saying that i was catholic-religious. really. it was a religion to me. whatever. what really is religion when you're seven? i would rather be promoted the ideas of good and true than be told that God will blah blah if i blah blah.

anyway, they were cartoons, so of course i liked them. and though they were a bit big on the saints, i liked it anyway. i liked learning about kris kringel.anyway, i don't plan on sleeping. maybe an hour nap? long night. i plan on sleeping tomorrow. wish me luck. a plus.