Sunday, 09/28/03 - 4:47 pm.
My niece cries rivers everytime she remembers a certain dog her grandma (not my mom) used to have (the dog die about six months ago). She'd never see that dog more than two months every year (whenever she'd come to visit), but she cries over that dog like she lost the love of her life, and hides behind the "only she could understand me" and cries some more. I pretty much hate that in her, her drama queen side. She should be a little more aware of things. I don't care if she and the fuckin' dog had long conversations like Frog and I do, the dog is dead. People die. Dogs die as well. Get over it.
I drew for her John Lennon and George Harrison having breakfast, eating cereal, Apple Scruffs (Apple Scruffs were the fans that'd camp in front of The Beatles' houses for months). On one side of the table, looking up to John and George drew her dog.
In the drawing, John is saying: pass the Apple Scruffs, George. And the dog, next to him, is saying: and then to me, lad. I wish I had a scanner so I could save that drawing. It's kind of funny, but that's just my opinion.
I HATE her drama queen, oh-poor-me, look-I'm-in-pain, don't-call-me-down-because-I'm-still-mourning-my-dog side, but on the other hand...on the other hand, I love her and I want her to cut the crap.
Then there's my nephew, who is friendless and has deep, deep problems with socializing. He stays alone in recess and reads. He has trouble making and keeping friends.
He kind of reminds me of me, but I never read in recesses. I'll try to come up with something (like the John/George/talking dog drawing) to encourage him to make friends. I do enjoy solitude, but sometimes the social instinct kicks in and I need friends, don't we all?
Denise (his mom, my sister in law) says the other kids pick on him. For some reason I didn't panic when I heard that. Perhaps because she mentioned that calmly, or because I trust he will survive. I'm scared of what bullies could do to him, though, given he's this little, fragile, geeky boy (very adorable, of course).
I started thinking how I come I never got picked on at school. Well, first, I was lucky. There weren't many bullies in school, not that I was aware of. And I was a loner, and for some strange reason, the other kids always looked at me respectfully. But if by any chance anybody picked on me -and I remember cases-, I had a way to make them stop.
Since I was little I got in biological trouble for spending weeks without drinking water. So my mom would always give me a huge bottle of water for me to take to school, to help me start drinking again. I think I was the only one in the classroom with a bottle of water, and sometimes kids were not allowed to go out of class to drink water (specially after recces), or the water wasn't exactly very pure....or they were just lazy.
So for me it was: hey, can you give me some water? This one boy started picking on me, calling me hurtful names because I was a little taller than average. One day he asked me if I could give him some water and I said no, because he was very mean to me. I made him apologize and promise he would never pick on me again, and only after that he could drink water. He never picked on me again.
I should get back to study, but I keep failing miserably at focusing. I'll go watch I Am Sam ("Lucy Diamond Dawson"...beautiful).
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