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#09

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Shiny Happy People

[ Edited April 26: Because hor blogs cannot be whineey. Because that's what my friend thinks blogs are. Whiney. Why would she think that? Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? ]

Am I lacking the Shiny Happy gene? Was the gene pool lifeguard looking away when tragedy struck because the giant pharmacutical companies slipped him a tip? Did the family tree lose one too many apples? Was I the branch that fell too far off? Am I ever going to stop with the silly metaphors? Who knows!

Maybe my environment explains it. In a Freudian kind of way. Maybe I should just open up and talk more to the folks at home and unburden my miseries. People seem to think that alot. Yeah, that's it.


Me: "Why do bad things happen to me so often?"

Grandmama: "...you have bad luck, you have always had bad luck and there's nothing you can do about it. So don't be sad."

Ah. Excellent. I sense a few more universes imploding under that epiphany. Grandmama: destroyer of worlds. My maternal Death Star. Note to self: in times of emotional crisis, ask not Grandmama for help (depending on what kind of help, you are seeking of course - reader discresion is advised).

Perhaps a parental figure, one of the two pillars nurturing child development, the foundation of character, the touchstone of principles, growth of the psyche and fulcrum of a child's universe, the provider of Love, Guidence and Emotional Nourishment, your model for God:


Dad [reading papers]: "You applied for what course?"

Me: "Econs."
Dad [reading papers]: "(Pffft) Oh boy." [reads papers]

Thanks Dad.


My dad, resident poltergeist: not seen enough to be substantial, seen enough to be noticed too much.

He reads religious books. Ironic in a way, that.

en at 9:55 pm

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