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There are few things more uncomfortable than having your little sister and her friend ask you interested questions about the mechanics of queer sex.
However, there are few things more satisfying than discussing the environment and politics with said little sister and friend, so I guess things balance out.
(Also, I now own this and this. And a pin that says "God is too big for one religion." It makes me sad that I always want to buy anti-capitalist buttons, though. Even if I pretended it was due to being fashionably ironic*, I'd die inside of shame.)
This week has been a little dramatic. I think the drama reached its high point tonight, when Mum discovered that my little sister's ex-best friend** posted pictures of her (the friend, not Little Sister) touching herself on the Internet. This is also the first year anniversary of Paula Gallant's murder at the local elementary.
Sometimes I wonder if this is why the suburbs are such a good place to raise your kids.
I've noticed since coming home that I feel less afraid about things. My family's noticed it, too- I'm talking more, being more social, not staring at my feet as I walk. Kerrin's theory is that since I've been amongst real strangers, socializing with people I don't know very well doesn't scare me as much anymore. My theory is that that last bout of exam panic sucked the fear clean out of me.
( Aaaaaand it's another end-of-the-year meme. )
I seem to be allergic to my house. *violent sneeze*
Sometimes I want to be a warm yellow light that shines over everyone. Sometimes I want to do nothing other than twirl around in a field full of buttercups and fluffy wee kittens. Sometimes I like to listen to songs about the moon.
But mostly I just want a cup of tea.
* Subject of future journal rant: how much I hate fashionable irony. Especially if it's a person's excuse for telling racist jokes.
** They're not friends anymore because Friend- who has been consistently racist, homophobic, and destructive, so I'm not too torn up about the friend breakup- set Little Sister up with a boy from Dartmouth, who then dumped Sister and started going out with Friend.
You know, when I was thirteen the only real drama in my life was the constant "will they/won't they" situation with Best Friend and the time I nearly ruined the library's only copy of A Wrinkle In Time. I feel slightly miffed. And old.
However, there are few things more satisfying than discussing the environment and politics with said little sister and friend, so I guess things balance out.
(Also, I now own this and this. And a pin that says "God is too big for one religion." It makes me sad that I always want to buy anti-capitalist buttons, though. Even if I pretended it was due to being fashionably ironic*, I'd die inside of shame.)
This week has been a little dramatic. I think the drama reached its high point tonight, when Mum discovered that my little sister's ex-best friend** posted pictures of her (the friend, not Little Sister) touching herself on the Internet. This is also the first year anniversary of Paula Gallant's murder at the local elementary.
Sometimes I wonder if this is why the suburbs are such a good place to raise your kids.
I've noticed since coming home that I feel less afraid about things. My family's noticed it, too- I'm talking more, being more social, not staring at my feet as I walk. Kerrin's theory is that since I've been amongst real strangers, socializing with people I don't know very well doesn't scare me as much anymore. My theory is that that last bout of exam panic sucked the fear clean out of me.
( Aaaaaand it's another end-of-the-year meme. )
I seem to be allergic to my house. *violent sneeze*
Sometimes I want to be a warm yellow light that shines over everyone. Sometimes I want to do nothing other than twirl around in a field full of buttercups and fluffy wee kittens. Sometimes I like to listen to songs about the moon.
But mostly I just want a cup of tea.
* Subject of future journal rant: how much I hate fashionable irony. Especially if it's a person's excuse for telling racist jokes.
** They're not friends anymore because Friend- who has been consistently racist, homophobic, and destructive, so I'm not too torn up about the friend breakup- set Little Sister up with a boy from Dartmouth, who then dumped Sister and started going out with Friend.
You know, when I was thirteen the only real drama in my life was the constant "will they/won't they" situation with Best Friend and the time I nearly ruined the library's only copy of A Wrinkle In Time. I feel slightly miffed. And old.