Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Graduation Day

So here it is, much expected, dreaded and longed for - the G-day (it makes a person think about G-strings, and it just  as comfortable as one /snarks/).

Thankfully,  there 's no  fuss like it had been  for the prom, but it is still an  annoying piece of duty, not to mention it can eat out a significant  amount of money. Okay,  I will reuse most of my thesis-defense clothes,  but still,  shoes  had cost a pretty penny,  not to mention both hair-styling -  would have had hair-styled it all by my lonesome if the dratted operation wouldn't have demanded a good  chunk of my hair  being sheared off, and  I am still on the wrong foot will all bigger things with makeup. /defeated sigh/. I seriously  need some makeup classes. (Mum is gunning for  manicure and pedicure ones /sweatdrops/. Seriously, hello?)  My  laptop keyboard has ganked, so I am  using my other one and it will take time to  write  smoothly, as I am used to my laptop one, but oh well, I am thankful I had enough of a foresight to at least buy the darned thing. (Would have loved to own  a new laptop by the way, with a much bigger inner drive -  1 TB or more and possibly a SSD to boot, but  that  is still  a work in progress, both on the tech and mine front.)

On the shoes, I am  happy  camper to have some that don't clack on the  floor, don't have high heels and are reasonably comfortable without my  feet  weeping at me in discomfort.   Once, I made a mistake  and bought pretty shoes  for some or other celebration,  and the front part, where the  toes were, was uncomfortably tight.  The salesperson had convinced my mum  that  it  took just a little  walking around to break 'em in.  You know what -   that was a bullshit. I  wore them for the celebration, and then never again.  The next ones, I overgrew, and that was a damned shame, because they were  totally to my taste. And the  walk through the shops was almost an exercise in futility - seriously, if the God had  wanted  that we wear high heels,  he would have made  our feet so,  and I was both horrified and fascinated at the instruments of  possible death and guaranteed torture that innocently parade on the shelves   in the shape of  high-heeled shoes. Noo, nope, thank you very much.  There are few scenes  of martial arts being used in high shoes, and that  for  a reason.  And yeah, I will shamelessly  admit I am not so gifted in the  balance apartment,  but trying to wear high-heeled devices of murder -  feet murder or otherwise,  is just asking for trouble.

Still, managed to  find an unconventional pair of shoes, that have a small heel  and are  interesting and  glory of all glories, they don't make  me  itch to get them  off the minute I get them on my feet.   As I joke,   I didn't buy them -  they adopted me for themselves the moment I got them on my feet.  It was funny that was - I came to shop, grumped around and  I would've gone out in a snit if I hadn't  noticed something glittering on  one of the lower shelves.  Yup, I am sucker for  glittering something if it's tastefully done. At first, I tested them just  for the heck of it,   but then, I pondered -  why  should  the shoes be black, of all things just to go along with the black trousers,  so my mind did a total turnaround and  I decided that I won't follow the conventional wisdom  of having black with black -  would've been cool, but not my style, and I snatched the pair faster than you could say 'sold'.   Of course,  the price was significantly higher than  I wanted it to be, but  they will serve me faithfully for a long time, so  it was a good investment, even if  a bit  pricy one.   So...  totaling the  amount of shoes I have -  and yeah, have to  buy  winter ones sometime,   I own  seven pairs,  four of them trainers, one pair of crocs (clogs),  pair of flip-flops and a pair of  sandals,  the  slippers notwithstanding.   Some would say it's a shamefully  small amount,  however it's an useful one,  and that's all I care about.  I am confused about the girls'  chat about  that  and than model of the shoes -  what should  I care about some or another Loubotini?  Gimme some good book any day. /Sighs/. Women are strange species, that they are. /shakes head./

The sun has appeared, so maybe we will have a modicum of  good weather today, but I am not counting on it.  My headache from yesterday has also disappeared -   seriously,  the  yesterday was stifling like hell, and I am thankful we had a rain  overnight to cool the air down and so on.  For April, the weather is very  flighty still -   we have almost summer-ish  temperatures, and then, it's  could  outta blue.  but so long so good,  it seems it will be good one today.   Still, better bring along an umbrella....



So, there it is... time to prepare for the  G-string -  oops,  I meant graduation.   See y'all later,


11 PM,  so  almost 23.00

Here, back again.  Have mixed feelings -  on one hand, I am relieved I  avoided  any overly nasty topics and on the other hand I am spooked and angry  dad  had  looked into my graduation map. What, first  thing he doesn't  want to go, and  then, he dares to browse in what is mine!?  Hell, man would've be tempted to clock him one around his head.     Shame I ain't a man.... would've probably solved some o the things.  Doesn't help  he is still drinking,  so  we had another  companion to see the graduation ceremony with - don't know whether to be pissed off or disappointed in my father -  I am  leaning toward indifference -  he wasn't here when  I was one of the best,  and he ain't here when it  mattered.  Makes me wonder if I should  ever  invite him to my  wedding if there ever would be one.  /grumbles/.   Anyway, he is one of the reasons I am  wary of men, because at subconscious level,  my brain is trying to  equate all males with him,  in negative light.    I am tempted to say that I am done  with him.  He is still my parent, that is true,  but the one who reared me up,   since diapers till now, is  mum.   But I got used  to him not coming to celebrations of my achievements -  first in the elementary school, in middle school  there was only mum,  and occasionally my brother.  University, he  wasn't much present, except in monetary matters. I am confused on where to place him -  he provided for me, sure, but as a person, he wasn't there much.  He tries, in his own, awkward way, but  his tries are interspersed with my past hobbies -  I painted well, and  he is still onto me  to get into painting sometimes.  Now, I am writing.   I don't have  much to talk with him. But between him drinking and me having my own problems,  there's not much to say.   I am leaning toward indifference, and isn't that sad?

Overall, the day went well. I am tempted to continue the schooling, to reach for the Master level, but on the other hand, I now know where are my borders in regards to this particular  course.   I don't know whether I would have patience for getting through another heap  of exams -   in the end,  ther eare onyl numbers and  some  courses you've successfully done, and  I am not sure I even learned something about anything when I was in a  school.  True, I can draw the business plan,   use programs relevant to my job and  so on and so forth, but I still feel woefully uneducated about a heck-load of things, the things  I can only learn in life.  Probably. No  matter the curriculum, the  only real test is  a live situation.    I am leaning toward writing, because I do this the best and enjoy  it, but I am afraid. What if I fail?  Logically, I know if I fail, then I could always  try again, but the hurt of failure is sometimes bitter to swallow.  Fail nine times, get up ten.  I know  that only too well, what  with the math subjects. /grimaces/.   However, on the other side, I am feeling  as if I am deliberately pressing all the wrong  buttons except the  right one.   I am pressing the wrong button in  a want to conform, to be normal and to have a dependable income.   Steady job  means  good income and I wouldn't want for anything for a long time, drifting through the years, meeting a good person and  marry them and then maybe have kids - very  doubtful maybe,  rear them,  age, and then  die.  Isn't' that how the things usually go?

But on the other side, I could dare myself to go against the mainstream thinking,  to write and to endure on this way.  It's  an unknown path,  uncertain one,  I don't even know if  there would be a  steady income to  cover all my needs and more, and yet...if I succeed, it would be a success that would  exceed my wildest dreams.   If I fail, then  I would have failed, had to  find a low paying job and then begin anew from  something  and  somewhere else.

The road that leads to nowhere
or the road that leads to you. 
 (Enya)

I am afraid to go against my father. It simply  isn't done, and yet, this is my life.  If I accede now,  then I will miss something very important to me - experience,  growth, self-respect,  happiness, feeling of accomplishment - it sometimes irks me that my gift isn't  obvious one, like with numbers or chemicals or something, but instead, I only have a gift with words. Well, yes, I am artisitcally inclined too,  but  still, sometimes I feel that I hold  nothing in my hands.

Nothing worthwhile.  And yet... If I gave it a chance,  it could be something,  I don't know  what exactly,  but something.  A book, a  song a picture... I don't know, but something, I  don't know  whether it would be brilliant, because sometimes I think myself  so very clumsy, like a beginner, and then  I am always happily  surprised when I  read the praise from  my readers, that they enjoyed my works, and  I read them and marvel at them,   reminding  myself that I created them.  That is what drives me to write -   to create, to push the boundaries, to make  the  images in my head real.  To dream alongside the readers.

Scary,  but true. and  I am still here, still trying to fit in, and still being grumpy about not fitting in.  Being ordinary is  becoming exhausting, and only my laziness is   stalling me  from advancing forward.  Laziness and fear, that is. /sour face/  No other  cure than to  kick my ass in gear an constantly convince  myself that  this was the right decision.

Today I went past the house of my deceased  schoolmate, E. She had missed so many chances -  she could've graduated,  have a  boyfriend up  till now,  everything, and  yet, she chose to end her life.  And wasn't that sad?  Yes, you need to be courageous to  end  your life, but even braver to  live it, and yet, not living in accordance with your desires, is dying in small doses.  So, one step after another..../gulps/. 

Wish me luck? /puppy  eyes/



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