The Whimsy... Part IV

Continuing the present personal series of posts (see the introduction and first entry here).

The First Day of Spring 2003
Age 16, North Vancouver

I've cried more in these past 3 days than I have this whole year.  What am I going to do?  My Paris self, me, the one who isn't a bitch, who's happy in her surroundings and with herself, is gone.  I can't even dress like I did there.  I'm shocked, I'm crying without my face moving.  What am I doing?  Today, it was good even.  Us girls went to Oma's.  Opa said I took good pictures - I really liked that, because he meant it, and they were Paris pictures.  We all sang in the car, laughed at Shawna's enunciation of words on signs.  We went to Lonsdale Quay and had a crepe!  It was just like in Paris, even tasted like it.

I watched "Abandon" with mom.   She sighed and said she was happy to hear Butt and I fighting again (we weren't fighting, just tickling and being loud).  Then, we have dinner.  I don't want my meat, I don't want anything.  Dad says, "Don't just eat potatoes," and it pisses me off so I grab a handful of cucumbers and they flip at me so I sit straight and lift tiny forks of food in my mouth at a time.  Having respect for them.  Later, dad asked me what was so bad about the food at dinner in Paris.  Tears came, just thinking about being there and what it was like.  I miss that stupid FLUNCH.  That unappetizing FLUNCH.  And I even want to tell them all about it, everything.  But I don't.  I can't.  I'll cry because I miss it so much.  I don't think they know that I miss it so much.  If I told them, they'd humour me or say something stupid like, "Oh well.  At least you got to see it once."  How comforting. 

I hate myself here.  All the hours of nothing to do but sit around.  It rains outside.  I have no money.  I emptied that caramels container and started saving up for France by throwing $12 into it. Mom came in after my first round of tears and told me not to be bitchy.  She said I'd been like that all day.  I couldn't believe it!  When?! She said Opa had wanted me to sit with him to tell him about my pictures, that he'd asked me and I just turned and started watching my movie again.  You know that there's nothing I'd rather do than talk about my beautiful France pictures!  Mom said it had hurt her and probably Opa, too, and I felt SO bad.  That's why I'm crying now.  I'd never hurt them intentionally - I must not have heard him.  I'm such an ass.  I just want to go to sleep now - 6:54pm, but then I'd have to get up for work.  [Two swear words].