Oh hi

So much for posting daily right? I tend to jinx myself like that.

Life has been life, lucky for me, nothing to hate and lots to enjoy. What's been on my mind of late is the final conclusion to the Harry Potter saga. I don't dress-up for the premieres but the story has an undeniable place in my heart. I remember during story time, my second grade teacher would read Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone aloud and from then I was hooked. I remember borrowing Year 2 and 3 from the school library and shaking my head when the librarian suggested The Chronicles of Narnia as a similar read (to this day, I still can't accept this fact...I mean honestly?? I know, I know it's a classic but I haven't been captivated). I remember anxiously waiting for my cousins to finish their copy so I could borrow it later. I remember getting my copy of Year 6 at Target, the day it was released, and reading it on the way to whatever day trip my parents wanted to make. I remember my mother finding me still up at 3:00am, vowing to sleep only when I finished learning what happened to Harry, Hermione, and Ron during Year 7, and shooing me to bed.

I realize I sound a tad (just a tad) obsessive about the series but Harry Potter is an important symbol of my childhood and what I grew up with.

In anticipation of the premiere of Part 2 of Harry's final adventure, I brushed up on my knowledge and reread the last book. As a Harry Potter fan, I'm bound to make simple magical references and whole-heartedly defend the world of witchcraft and wizardry, but as I reread the book, I realized the story had great, organic lessons. Lead yet be humble, find a cause and remain loyal to it, ignore false pretenses and rumors, be ready to defend those and what is closest to your heart, learn to turn the other cheek and not seek revenge, don't just be tolerant of other but learn to respect as all they are. I was surprised to find so much reference to the idea of one group claiming superiority over another and the enmity it causes. The stories can taught me a lot. Good will triumph over evil. Love is most powerful thing. Do not fear death. I couldn't help realizing, it's a lot of the things I learn and am to learn from God. Yeah, I still say "whoa" when I reach this point but it's an amazing kind of "whoa." (I also wondered if witches and wizards follow religion. I mean Hogwarts got Christmas and Easter breaks).

And now a key part of my childhood has come to a final close. I can't wrap my mind around it, or believe it. Time really flies...I can't wait to reread the series and learn something new. *Dumbledore wink*

Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.

Hands down, [one of] my favorite quote[s] of the last book. Lucky for me, a friend had pre-screening tickets to see Part 2 and invited me to come. I was thrilled, absolutely thrilled, to see that they kept a lot of lines true to the text. As an aside, going through Dumbledore quotes make me want to weep.

Family or friend [or foe]?

So I'm trying to make blogging a habit this month since I have nothing better to do. I'm hoping to blog daily but forgive me that this one technically did not get published July 10th. Now onward...

Family time is not my thing, specifically those that include my parents. It's not that I don't appreciate them, it's just I don't like doing things with my parents, it gets very stressful for me. Part of it is my stubbornness to just go with what they want to do. I develop an attitude, sarcasm, and impatience. Yup, I demote myself to the classic, rollin'-my-eyes 13-year-old. They can make small talk about whatever is on their minds, and even though I know I should listen and pay attention to everything they say(not just because they're my parents, but because they're people and I can never predict what the future holds), my ignoramus mode kicks in and I go on autopilot. Uh-huhs, yea-sures, and whatever-you-likes are my top responses.

And I'm ashamed to say, this happens most with my parents. Never with any other relative, friends, or any other person. And it's not as if my relationship with my parents are remarkably different, especially from what I imagine to be the "typical" parent-child relationship. I can name things on my end though that make it difficult. Forgive me, the list will be long, and draining.

1. Expectations. I feel like I always need to be on my toes to be the child my parents want me to be, and not who I want to be myself. Most of the complaints I get from my parents are about my attitude. Sometimes I know it's happening, other times I believe it's only a matter of their interpretation, but most times I feel that some times things just happen that way. It's not that I don't want to be a perfect angel all the time, but I'm not a perfect angel, I'm human, and it should be a perfectly rational concept to not-be-in-the-mood and be Little Miss 'Tude. I believe in self-control and that life and perspective is what you make it, but sometimes, the human-side of things just come rushing and there's nothing left but human impulse. And for expectations in general, there are some things that a parent will always expect for a child and the child with never comply with. Period.
2. Yes-man. But of course, expectations of my parents have/had made me a yes-man. I like to believe that I'm an independent woman who makes her own decision (snaps in Z-formation...Uh-huh don't go there brother/sister.) but it's just so damn hard to deal with parental disappointment or even the prospect of it. I remember going through a period in my younger years where I said yes to everything my mother offered to get me - that is the things that she loved that she wanted me to have. I remember the clothes in particular. There was one store that my mother adored when I was younger. The fabrics and accessories were a country vintage, with eclectic, asymmetrical cutting but I hated it. It was no Limited Too and the "cool kids" weren't wearing them, but my mother loved getting me dresses from there and I never had the stomach to say no (Except to drugs and alcohol!! But my parents never offered those to me, I'm becoming tangential....)
          And to this day, I still prefer to please my parents. I only have the guts to ask for something or talk when the "mood is right" (Gosh, what am I on, a date?). It's less troublesome to suck-it-up and do whatever the padres want than talk myself out of it...I'm not verbally eloquent (neither are my parents, but they can think on their feet, so their skills surpass me).
3. Hard to relate. I pride myself in being sympathetic. It's not that I can't put myself in their shoes and justify whatever they do with their parental viewpoint, but I still can't help dramatically flailing my arms to the heavens and scream WHY?? (only imaginary). Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if at times they felt this way about me...
4. Hard-to-read. One of the worst. I can never tell if/when my parents's emotions are directed towards/caused by me or by something else. It's one of the wildest dances and I always have to tip-toe around because the last thing I want is a natural catastrophe.
5. Little/poor communication. The little thing that allows 1-4 to flourish. It's difficult for me to talk to my parents and it probably is for them with me as well. I'm not willing to share any information (because I know I'll somehow get in trouble for it) and they hardly share information with me. I've been honestly truthful sometimes, particularly in saying "We don't communicate" but not much gets done after anything is said. There's a lot of talk but no walk, and the less walk that happens, the less talk to occur in the future. There's also always a lot of explaining to do with my parents which either turns into a disaster where I've said too much and things become misinterpreted or I become too impatient trying to explain that I just clam up.

Phewph. That list was just a kick in the stomach. A shopping list that I know many children have for their parents, but it's still a kick in the stomach, an unfortunate fact. So I'd like to conclude with one interesting comparison. Friends versus family. I've always put my friends in high regard, perhaps too high, but I know that they're a huge part of what keeps me sane. I'm relieved to know that I can effectively communicate with them. Part of it is probably the same generation thing (but I believe this reason to be more bullcrap than it's worth, I mean I've had wonderful conversations with people of all ages). Another part is probably the lack of expectations friends have for each other. We expect ourselves and the other to maintain a moral standard of course, but even if that fails, we know we can talk it out, there's no need to be shy and put up a poker face. I mean, it's so much easier to accept a friend as-is, straight off the shelf either gleaming with beautiful craftsmanship or pocketed with little nicks and soft-ball sized dents. 

But I think the greatest difference between friend and family is that there is no guarantee of forever with a friend, absolutely none whatsoever. It's a take-it-or-leave-it deal. I remember a study saying that the average friendship lasted two years (somewhere along those lines...this fact is from memory, kids). Two measly years. Friendships don't even have to last for a second. I mean in all honesty, there's truly nothing that stops anyone from leaving a friendship except some favors, memories, and companionship - feelings. Unfortunately, it's not impossible to find those things in another person and in reality, a relationship could really just end if a party prefers it to. The only binding you and that friend (and really, any other person that's not blood-related) is that wanting of them to be there for whatever reason. Now I'm sure you're considering me a cruel, cruel person (I should forget about calling this "Here's to looking up"...) and don't get me wrong because I'll be the first to tell you that my friends are my family and that I love them and will love them to the ends to the ends of this earth and that without them I'd be...oh man, you don't even want [me] to imagine that, but the fact is is that blood is the strongest tie one can ever have with another person. That at the end of the day, no matter how much that relative pisses you off, no matter how inoperable (seemingly or not seemingly) that relationship is, you'll always feel a powerful bond that you can never, ever shake off. They will always be there for you on some level, whether it be in-your-face or invisibly. Blood is thicker than water.

And for that I am evermore thankful and in debt to my pain-in-my-rear, can-and-cannot-live-without parents.

Reminisce

This was from my short-lived (and when I say short-lived I mean three months worth of nine entries....yea, not short-lived more like lame) journal.

Someone in an elevator once said to me (As I recall it was more to anyone listening. Journal Me must be different from Current Me.) as he was looking out the glass window side (*ackhem* poor writing *coughcough*) at the bustle of shoppers and lively sales (it was Thanksgiving/Pre-Xmas), "Americans live fast. They do everything fast. They're born fast, they die fast." Really says a lot.




Side note: I looked up the word "reminisce" to check the spelling. Apparently the word refers to a recollection of enjoyable events and memories. Funny, I've been using it for the recollection of all memories, good and bad and sad. I notice myself recalling the sad more often than the happy. What a humanly thing to do.

Distracted, restless, and lying about with "nothing" to do

So it's been a month since I've blogged. Am I ashamed? Of course, but ideas haven't been-a flowing in my head. I was going through one entry a few weeks ago but the rhythm of it has completely drained (and it was turning out to be a long, long, long rant, so I decided to spare your precious time).

Also, I feel distracted.

Not by anything in particular but I feel distracted. Maybe restless. Most of my best friends are gone for the summer, I have a puppy (very sweet and more than a handful) to take care of, and I'm done with my summer semester of physics (an absolute blessing to be done but I'll admit, I miss the structure it added to my schedule and, well, I'm a sucker for learning). I had an enormous list of things I was excited to get to but I can't seem to motivate myself to get going. As of right now though, they feel more like a list of chores than a stress-relievers. You can guess that blogging is on that list...

Perhaps it's the summer blues kicking in. That cursed desire to lay around and do nothing or do anything meaningless. It's my summer vacation so I guess it's justified to stay idle, but even being idle makes my head and heart feel restless. I know I should be doing something, but what?

I really want to drive. Just drive along the longest stretch of road possible (get my kicks on Route 66?). Preferably out of the way of many cars so I can have the peace of mind of being alone. I'd like to go by a vintage motorcycle, or an old-school, worn-in Lincoln Town Car (you know the ones in the movies, where the front seat still seats 3 people, a large steering wheel, and a humongous trunk...the one from "That 70s Show" would be perfect). A pretty little Ducati or Suzuki bike, or a nice silver convertible Audi would be an amazing dream, but I don't need speed as much as I need a vehicle that matches my mood, and I just want an old, worn-down peaceful place to think. I have a feeling I'll need something aged to assist my thinking, especially since I don't want anyone around.

I can't drive without music. I need some acousticky, indie ballads. Bon Iver, The Temper Trap, Adele, Augustana, Imogen Heap, Mumford & Sons, Kina Grannis....long-drawn out melodious beauties. I'll throw in a few top-of-my-lungs sing-a-longs just for a few curveballs to keep me awake if I drive too long. I want to drive on a desert highway. I want the dry, hot and steamy air to hit me as I drive. Driving isn't complete without the windows rolled down and the feel of the wind enveloping your arms and fingers and shoving itself in your face, pushing your hair in every possible direction. I want to drive past stretches and stretches and stretches of sand and rocks and tumbleweed. I want to feel the sun press on my arms. I'll stick to the leather seats, but that'll be okay.

And I'll drive until nightfall. I'll stop at the side of the road and pull out a sleeping bag. If I'm smart enough, I won't have eaten much of the food I brought (if I was even smart enough to prepare for that). And if I'm clever enough, I'll start a fire and boil a can of whatever and make a burnt weenie. Maybe a smore if I'm up for dessert, but I just want to lay near a fire until it dies and stare at the stars. Just stare up and pass the time until I snuggle into a ball and fall asleep. Then the sun will rise and I'll wake up. Maybe I'll keep driving, but I don't have anything else in mind after watching the stars.

Unfortunately reality hits, and I don't have a car. Or money to fill the tank. Or a mother with enough guts to let me do whatever I want. There are too many "buts" tying me down. I hope one day to do this though. Just drive. With no end or beginning in sight. Just the here and now and spectacular or dreary scenery to inhale, all on my own.