3 January, 2008, 1240 am
Filed under: Music, My Experience with Existence | Tags: , ,

School is a bitch.

Yesterday was Rachael’s sixteenth birthday.  Derek dubbed it Satan Day, since he refers to her as Satan and there is a six in her age this year.  And coincidentally, there was a fire at Deep Run on her birthday in a boys’ bathroom.  Of course, I wasn’t there or anything, but you know that was the work of Satan.  As in, it was the work of Rachael.  My sister.

You’d think the people who are in my life right now would try and understand what’s going on.  But it seems like the people from my six-months-ago past and the people who are slowly seeping into my life now are the ones who really get it.  When Liz went through the KFC drive-thru over break, lo and behold! my childhood best friend was working the window.  But I hadn’t seen her in years, so I said nothing, and she couldn’t see me in the darkness of the passenger seat, anyway.

I change so much, though, that no one would recognize me if it wasn’t for forced family gatherings.  It’s too weird going back to Bethlehem now.  All these old people who say, “I haven’t seen you since you were this high!  Do you remember me?!”  All expectantly.  Of course I don’t remember them.  I’m seventeen now and they’re dying.  They’ve missed my most awkward stages, and now I just kind of sit there and don’t say much because I can feel the tension.  And it’s because my parents are separated.  They now hate my mom, and I look just like her and I chose to live with her.  My paternal grandmother skirted around the issue by saying that I look just like my Aunt Katie, who is my mom’s sister.  And because of these attitudes, I wear my looks like a badge of pride.  When we went to Main Street with my maternal Grandmom, two old family friends said that I looked just like her, just like Grandmom, just like Patty, my mom.  Relaying that to my dad’s mother, it made me think of the way Erika thumped her chest when someone asked if I was her friend.  Damn straight.  I am my mother’s child.

I do not know what my resolution is yet.  But I do know that I would like this.

Be Still My Heart | The Postal Service

I am also nervous for tomorrow, when Derek will listen to the song that reminds me of him.  Haha.  I get so defensive of music, especially in the presence of people whose opinions I care about.


7 Comments so far
Leave a comment

I really enjoy reading your blog and I’m glad you’re reading mine. :]

Comment by swaziprincess

I remember going through a very difficult phase in life and it seemed like every Death Cab song spoke to me – especially Title & Registration (possibly my fav song by them), Photo Booth and many others. Music for me has always been able to say so much more than words – the music lends it that 4th dimension.

Comment by amateurish

why does your scalp hurt? and yes you look quite a bit like your mom! especially around the nose and eyes.

Comment by divya

I know exactly what you mean about the old people. My grandparents have a ton of friends, and see them every now and then. I have no idea who they are. They do the same “this tall” thing, too.

I just smile, talk lively, and pretend I know who they are.

Comment by wut?!

If you like the postal service, check out this track from The Moon and Monday:

– David

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