So it seems some men influence my mood.
Friday, 09.10.2010 - 10:21 pm.

Today during dinner I had to walk away from an awful situation in which my dad was controlling my mom. It pissed me off to the core but I chose not to open my mouth. Intellectual and all, my dad is a macho and considers himself with the right to make decisions on behalf of my mother.

I could have said a thousand things, but hey, I'm a woman, too, so he would have thought I was taking sides. In the end, I think I did the right thing by walking away. I stood from the dinner table and left my dad and mom...not arguing, really; just my dad ranting about how biological medicine was out of the question as an option, whereas my mom wanted to try it. She's found several lumps in her body. Cancer has been ruled out, luckily; it doesn't seem to be anything scary but my mom is curious to try other opinions.

I just waited for my dad to get up from the table. My mom usually stays there because she eats slower. I reached out and whispered in her ear that I supported her decision. She raised her fist, hahaha. I had to do it silently, or else a huge row would have been in order. I saved myself the trouble of a nasty fight with my dad and got to express my solidarity with her. God forbid I find myself a husband who tries to tell me what doctor I should or shouldn't see.


So, yesterday, a day after JC came over to visit me, I got a short message from him asking my opinion on some national issue. And today I found a missed call from him which I debated to return.

I've been thinking about him but not entirely in a romantic way. I fool myself into thinking, hey, maybe he regrets leaving me and I wonder what I'd do if he came back and stuff. Assuming he broke up with his girlfriend first, of course. It's just for my hurt ego's own amusement. Right then I start to number the reasons why I wouldn't get back with him: in a nutshell, he was just a piece of shit, man. And he made me feel like shit, not just by dumping me a week after getting laid but by getting back with his ex a couple of months later.

Moments ago I was surfing fucking Facebook and among the suggestions was an album in which he was tagged, and the picture is of him standing behind his girlfriend, with his arms around her. I was like, meh, but it does hurt. It made me glad I didn't return his phone call this afternoon.

I think he only keeps in touch with me because he feels he still has some power over me and somehow may enjoy the kind of conversations we have. In which case, I still feel used by him, like I'm kept just to fulfill some needs of him. If only I had the guts to tell him to fuck off and get out of my life.

And since we're talking about painful relationships, I think I've done pretty well about Joseph this week. Except for yesterday, when I spent the entire day with a headache because of him. See, I was going to go to my friend Cel's house, and as you may remember, she's his neighbor. When I learned she had changed plans and I didn't have to go to her house anymore, I WAS SO RELIEVED, MAN! But the headache didn't go away until I fell asleep at night.

And since I had some free time while I did my hair before meeting with her , I started to think of many things about him (and his wife) that nearly drove me to tears. But...tough luck, huh?

Feeling a bit suicidal right now (which is what I get for listening to The White Album, because I started to listen to it around the time I wanted to die, years ago), I did a search on Joseph and he didn't show up on my results. I got this huge instant pit in my stomach but then I tried again and it seemed he still has me on his list. Then I sent my friend Victor2 to double-check and he said he still had me, and that damn, his profile is filled with trading card stuff. That made me laugh.

Ok, well, listening to music and talking to Victor2 has cheered me up. I'll attend a jazz festival in the afternoon with Victor1 and Victoria tomorrow and that hopefully will cheer me up even more. I was going to say goodbye to Cel tonight, because she goes back to Canada tomorrow, but as usual she changed plans, so who knows when I'll see her again in my life. I love her the same.

So, anyway. Carry the fuck on.

And happy 60th birthday, dear Joe Perry!

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