Merry Christmas.

I’m off to New York City in a few hours and a feeling of apathy and excitement joins together in my heart leaving me feel…. jaded on a Christmas day like this.

First of all, the feeling of hate for my dad lingers in my body and it’s just a horrible feeling to hate on a day like this. But it’s something that is very hard for me to get out of my system when he keeps diggin up lies and planting new ones. I wish… I wish….I wish him well.

I’ll take one for the team.

On the other hand, I can’t wait to give the presents to my boyfriend and his family. Maybe the reason why i feel so empty is because i’m not even spending Christmas with my own blood family, but sought for another which I hardly know of… I know I’ll miss mom’s smile, mom’s meals, and mom’s kindness. I wish her well while i’m gone.

They’re both convinced that a sudden passion joined them. Such certainty is beautiful, but uncertainty is more beautiful still. -Wislawa Szymborska “Love at First Sight”

Here I come my  love…

BOOURNS. I’m not going to be in Canada on boxing day.

Just Do It: Procrastinate.

It’s really hard to start assignments when I/You/We just got out of the exams and last cramming sessions routine. It almost seems like it’s all reasonable and valid to procrastinate during the holidays. I/You/We give ourselves the legitmacy that the holiday seasons should be left for just that — and nothing else but family, presents, and hot chocolate.

Although it is quite the smart move to do “some” or at least “half” of the assignments that are due right after the holiday break, I think of it this way — Someone’s gonna regret it when “some” of the work cuts into some special plans or hours that should have been spent into the frantic pre or post-boxing day shopping.

So why do half ass work and possibly get that time cut into some of FUN TIME, when you can just cram it all in a few hours the night before?

The method of reaching that horrendous essay and restless assignment maybe different, but it all ends up the same.

Moral is — party, and party more. Leave that junk at the end of the holiday. There’s only “NOW” for “FUN”.

____________

Lindt.

Damn these Lindor chocolates are just too festive to let go. The exquisite taste along with the holiday season just takes “aphrodisiac” to a new level. Mmmm. Lindor. White chocolate is my favourite. Or the milk with the hazelnuts. Okay lets not talk about chocolate cause I can already feel the “let’s-lose-10-pounds-this-christmas” goal whispering guilt in my ear.

Dear Santa,

I hate a man that I call “dad”. He is the most selfish, hateful, unkind man in the world. There is no string of sympathy in him, and I can only wish for my Christmas present to be that he does not hurt mom. The yelling becomes worse and worse everyday and the curses just bites the ears, wonder how mom takes it in everyday. I want to get out of here, I want him to get out of the family. It’s not like he sees us as family anyway. He was never there for us, never there for anybody but himself. Santa, please make him go away, please keep momma and Timothy safe, please let me get away from this very dark place.

I promise I’d be good.

XOXO
Ellen.

My last exam or should I say my one and only exam that I have for this semester is on tomorrow and I just don’t feel like studying right now (and that is also why i’m writing this blog). I studied half of the stuff already like a week ago with the study group that I put up for my Natural Science class. But one thing I don’t get is, as a rep for this class, why do people depend on each other so much? I mean, didn’t your teachers scare you shitless enough in highschool already? My teachers sure did. They always told me that I will alway be on my own. Professors or TAs don’t really care and opportunities is what you make of it. So why do I still see so many dumbasses in my class talking on their cellphones, playing poker, watching porn, gossiping, and then decides to kindly email me for the notes or explain the whole lecture to them afterwards?

This takes me back to my last last entry. Dumbasses will always be dumbasses. By the age of 18, these people should know what’s good for em’.

_________

Sex scandals.

What’s funny about women is that, women always want to hear and dig out all the intimacy secrets of their boyfriend’s ex-es. As if we didn’t already know that it will make us women feel highly uncomfortable and rage with jealousy, yet we still want to dig. What the fuck is wrong with us? Can’t blame the guy, he’s just telling us what we asked for, which is the truth. And if you ask me, I rather hear the truth than let the boyfriend cover it up with sugar and lie about being a virgin.

I know it will hurt me when I hear about these things, but I still ask! My curiosity just roams! But nothing makes me feel more defeated than hearing about the past, because it is something that I cannot change. Most of all, I feel like it’s a silent attack of the ex-es. Somehow they get to me like this, but really I should focus on the present.

Do you think that ignorance is truly bliss? Or would you rather hear the truth from your significant other?

But even if someone says that the truth is always better, or unless you’re truly strong enough to take this kind of blow to the female ego, you can’t deny that a scar will always be in place and that grudge will probably stay between you two as long as you two shall be together.

So dig, or not to dig? –

Tis’ the Season To Be Jolly

…so stop the road rage!! Even if someone didn’t do something half as bad on the road, I realize that people still give each other dirty looks or mumble some eternal curses under their breath. (Yes, my mom does that, and I always yell at her for doing that) Or worse, I can read lips so I know, i mean — I KNOW when someone said “Fuck You” to me. It’s like I was in their way for maybe 15 seconds, it’s not going to get them home any faster. It might change the chain of events in their life with just 15 seconds, but just fucking relax!  Makes me feel horrible you know? It’s not like I want to drive so poorly. Some people, namely me, aren’t very keen in this area of my life, namely driving. Can’t be good in everything that i do.

It’s the holidays guys, so chill a bit on the road. Don’t get mad, you’ll give yourself a present by driving safely and be patient with others. This in return will probably save you from a horrific car accident. Don’t be a victim, be the observer. Laugh your way back home while thinking about how that guy was so stupid to get in an accident like that and just be plain ol’ jolly.

The Objective of an Useless Gift: None.

I asked my boyfriend this, but I still often wonder if this is true: “If your significant other got you a present, (no matter what it is) will you still consider it the best gift anyone could ever get you? Even if it isn’t, is it implied that the person receiving it should change their views to it and see the gift under the best light they could possibly see it in?”

I remember when my fling, (yes, I will call it that because we were never claimed to be bfs/gfs, but we still did things that couples did), got me a souvenir on his way back from his skiing trip from Vancouver. His beautiful souvenir that I naggingly asked for, turned out to be this huge ass rock, the size of my hand that he picked up on his way skiing down the hill. And no it isn’t that kind of rock that fits nicely and beautifully around a woman’s finger, also known as a ring. No, it was a huge. gray. rock. The way he explained it to me was this: He thought it was very special because it had mixed minerals in it. While I sat there going what in the world is this guy talking about, I couldn’t resist treating it like it was the best present I have ever received from anyone. Pitifully, I started to put it on top of my bed board so I can sleep with it, then I got around naming it too, and soon I started treating it like a live baby and occasionally did some freakish petting.

Then I realized that he never really wanted to be with me, so I started to see the true colours of that rock. It was nothing but this whole picture in my head where, “Oh my crush gave me this….this rock! Therefore I will put it on a pedestal, because it’s as precious as him” Oh give me a break. It was a stupid rock, regardless of the mineral talking. It was the worst gift/souvenir anyone could ever get me.

Yeah, the effort counts, but I hate to say this but a stupid gift will always be a stupid gift at the end no matter how much a person makes out of it. Would you tell your significant other that the sweater is his/her worst fashion sense yet? Or would you just give him/her a kiss and stash it in the closet right after they turn their backs?

Darn that freshman 15. I’m only 8 pounds away from fulfilling that prophecy. This Christmas, I will give myself a wonderful present by sheding 10 pounds. That 120 is going DOOOOWWWN —

Does this sound kind of familiar? Sorta like those hyprocritical non-realistic-never-going-to-happen kinda goals?

(Chomps on Doritos)

What. I’ll start after these. I swear.

Don’t know why i even try. Maybe I should just let go and stop being so uptight and up to the job. I just feel like i’ve done too much and while you’ve done too little. It’s just not fair. You say you care, but your actions says it ain’t so. It’s just not fair.

I pulled everything off my wall.

Maybe my mother was right, maybe they were right all along. All this time, maybe i should have thought twice about what people have been telling me. Maybe I just don’t see how he treats me, but others do. And it’s never wrong to listen to people, because there has to be some degree of truth in what they say. Whether it be a misunderstand or misconception of the person, it really doesn’t matter. Because what was or is on the surface still showed others what they see of him and correlated to something from their past experience that would probably be far from bullshit. Their own real life experiences and wisdom revealed to me. All this time, I thought I was going through my own ”real life experience”, creating my own story, that what others have been whispering in my ear really didn’t matter much to me. But they certainly do now, because they’re so loud in my head, I can hardly get them out.