i love my dad! he can't ever pass strawberries in the store without buying me a basket (and only for me!). but he kicks even more ass because if they're "not good enough for me", he doesn't bother getting any because he thinks i deserve the best. i swear, i'd eat strawberries until i got sick... i think i'm half-way there right now.

all the talk in public about divorce has finally caught my attention. i've seen it on oprah and sally and the news and everywhere else... they're always talking about how it has such an impact on the children, and they get hurt far more than anyone cares to realize. i beg to differ. my parents aren't legally divorced, but they've been seperated for at least three years now. my mother lives far, far away in another town with her boyfriend who is not much more than half her age. my dad has taken responsibility of us (though my mother never really did care about us) and hasn't found a replacement for her.

now, you'd figure that like most other kids we'd be sad, torn, devastated, whatever. that's not the case! none of us bother calling her on the phone, or insisting that she come and visit us. this seperation hasn't been a nightmare, it's been a godsend. we no longer have severe strain on our money because our "mother" isn't here to suck it all up on beer, cigarettes, gambling and whatever else she feels like doing... we don't have to put up with a bitchy, psycho, drunk mother every day. we're not embarrased to bring our friends over anymore, fearing that she would humiliate us or yell at us in front of them for no reason. we don't have to put up with torment or abuse just for living. we don't have to slave for her or walk on eggshells only to be tortured for no reason.

now why would be sad that we don't have two parents anymore? maybe i don't have a mother that gets excited over marks i get in school, or that i can't talk to her about the guys that have obsessions with me, and that i don't have a mother on my birthday or for christmas/new year's or any other holiday. but it doesn't bother me at all. my blood pressure/stomach doesn't suffer when she's gone, and i can have a bit of peace in this house.

and maybe that's why i've never really paid attention to all the talk about reprecussions of divorce.

and the time comes for a new round of physio. i'd like to know when i can be finished with all this. at my first consultation, she told me i'd do four weeks of physio, and this'll be my fourth week. or maybe my fifth? and she's still introducing more exercises for me to do, and just bumped up the strength of my theraband. is my shoulder really that hard to fix? grrrr. it's not that i don't want her to stop playing with my arm, i don't mind it at all! but i'm just tired of all these exercises. why can't my shoulder go back to normal?

i've been wanting to get a tattoo even more lately... but i keep forgetting to look for chinese symbols and their meanings. of course i had my mind made up on a symbol, because of the meaning. so i looked it up online, and the symbol looked stupid. and then i found really pretty symbols and they have stupid meanings. i've got three weeks left before i go to europe, and i probably won't have any time until i go back to school. and frankly, i'd rather get it done here because the tattoo guy here is really respectable and i'd have no worries. out in fredericton, i'm not sure how great they are. i've been a little easy in trusting the guys that pierce up my body (they haven't done good jobs), but tattoos are permanent and i want to be sure that i have something to be proud of.

plus, i've been getting antsy over this whole trip... i'm going to be staying with three sets of aunts and uncles and a slough of cousins... but with each new trip, everyone gets older and busier. i'm scared that no one will have any time for me and that our relationships have drifted somehow. i'm scared that they won't respect me for cutting my hair off and getting all these new piercings... i don't think my grandfather is still too pleased with carina (my cousin) for having a baby at the age of 15, and stefan's nearly seven months old now! i'm getting so indifferent with all this excitement. what if i can't take it anymore and want to go home after a week? i'm going to have to endure nearly two months. maybe i'm wrong and i'll have a great time, but what if i don't?

ugh. maybe i'll just find myself a pretty little symbol and scrounge up money that i don't have. i think about things far too much sometimes.

I'm wearing: baby tee, khakis
I'm listening to: hit or miss *new found glory*
I'm thinking: i dread having to wake up in the morning...