"No uterus, no comment"

I'm on my way to the OBGYN and I'm slightly hesitant. I initially tried to see a male doctor but unfortunately got stuck with a female. Most people don't seem to understand my hesitation toward having a female doctor but it's a legit one. My policy is no uterus no comment (A line taken from one of my favorite characters Rachel Green).  If I were to have a male doctor we wouldn't be able to judge or lecture me on what I do in my private life. While a female on the other hand may feel she has the right to lecture me. Esentially I just don't want to be lectured.

Yearbook Meeting

Today I met with the new yearbook teacher. I'm not quite sure what she though of me. I think there's a possibility I put her off a bit. I explained to her my OCD like tendencies, which others prceive to be anal, toward my need to have everything parallel and symetircal. I wonder what this class is going to be like...

I think it's all beginning to sink in, I'm about to be a senior. I'm a little bit scared about whether or not I can handle the work load while accepting nothing but excellence from myself. Will I crash under the pressure?

Running Buddies

Athleticism has never been a big deal in my family, with my mum. As a child my two siblings and I were limited to one sport each, one of my mum's many rules. Later on when I asked my mum if I could join a travel soccer team she immediately said. It's not that my mother dislikes sports it that she doesn't appreciate the time they take away from her schedule.

Describing my mum's relationship to athleticism is not meant to by any means put her down but more to emphasize my surprise when I returned to her this summer and she had told me she had taken up running. This is the same woman who told me that running on the street would damage my knees and make me older faster. This afternoon, after only being home for a tense 45 minutes, my mum instructed my brother, in a icy crisp tone of voice, to go on a run. He happily agreed, as long as he away from her he generally agrees. She too decided to go on a run, not long after Brendan left. By chance I was also planning on going for a run.

In the span of 20 minutes my entirely family left separately to go running. Maybe this is just me but I find this quite odd. Do we all dread spending time with each other that much?  Or are we all just trying to get really fit? I was the last to come home by about an hour. When I arrived home my mother was in her room and my brother in his. Are we now using our rooms as tools of escape and avoidence?

The Penthouse

This morning I arrived to my mum's house excited to go to my room. I wasn't excited or delighted to be in the presence of either my brother or mother. The moment I opened the door to my house I knew what to expect; a tension of some sort between my mum and brother. I dread this, I finally realize how it must have felt when Brendan and I were constantly fighting. The only way I seem able to handle it best these days is by fleeing to my room, avoiding contact with them when they are together.

My room has turned into my 700 square foot paradise. Formerly described as "Baghdad" it was littered by an array of things such as; dirty clothes, my sister's traumatized cat Harriet's  urine, empty or sometimes moldy plates and glasses, school papers, and yes sometimes ash. Now a days the carpet can be seen and if asked one could tell you that it is indeed cream coloured, that black stain is just a burn mark. I have spent the last few weeks back reorganizing, rearranging, and cleaning but I believe the name "The Penthouse" can finally be restored to my room.

Barbecue Vs. Hurricane Irene

I'm in a state. Tonight my family is meant to go to a barbecue which will most likely turn into an atomic indoor war zone. Somehow that brother of mine has gotten his godmother to invite both my parents to this event. This is the same godmother who use to be my mum's best friend turned boss. Who later got fired from the company she started and subsequently blames my mother. As one may guess tensions are high between all parties including my father and brother's godmother, for what reason I don't know. But needless to say I'm sitting on pins and needles waiting to see what happens. Maybe hurricane Irene won't be what destroys the city but in fact it will be the sizzling tension erupting from this barbecue.

Hurricane Irene

The good people of our nation's capital, Washington D.C., are beginning to panic. Hurricane Irene is meant to hit us sometime between tonight and early tomorrow, I believe. To tell you the truth I'm not worried. Back in September '04 the good of D.C. also panicked because hurricane Isabel (named after yours truly) was meant to hit us, but nothing really happened. Parts of Maryland did lose power but that's about it. Up until now I had assumed that the same thing would happen with hurricane Irene but maybe that's just stupid. I have this idea that I'll get all curled up in my room and watch the rain just pour down. That's when I love having an attic. That lovely moment when I'm lying in my soft comfy bed, listening to the sound of rain hitting my roof, and watch it pour by the bucket loads from my window.

*****

(Now rereading that last sentence above I realize that that is one of the most cheesy sentences ever  written. But is it true? Yes. )

The Ugly Unavoidable Truth

Today my brother told me it was inevitable that one day I turn into my mother and that he would one day turn into our father. Please sweet Jesus dont' let this be true? I love my parents, I do, but my god do I not want to be true.

I find it almost depressing that someone so young could think something so harsh. But maybe he's just being the realistic and smarter. Why not accept the unavoidable? But for some reason I can't seem to do that. Maybe he's just honest with himself and I delusional with myself. But I think for now I'd rather keep it that way.