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This and that, but mostly this
Mar. 8th, 2004 10:53 pmWriting horrible poetry is remarkably therapeutic. Why didn't I know this? And it even helps smooth out some of the blocks I'm having finishing the Story That Will Not End. Well, okay, that's not true at all, but whatever. It's fun! And horrible!
My daughter is heading off to Costa Rica this week. Her boyfriend's family bought her ticket and are covering all her expenses, because apparently they have money to burn. Last year, when she asked if she could accept the invitation, I was reluctant to say yes because she's sixteen, there were several months to go before the trip and what on earth was she going to do if they broke up in the meantime. Eventually I caved though, because I can't afford to give her this kind of opportunity, and I really want her to see how people live outside North America. And let's face it, if she has to rely on me for a vacation this year, she'll be looking at a campground in one of the free forestry sites in the interior. Anyhow, here we are a few days from departure and she's all fucked up because the boyfriend's condescending, know-it-all attitude is on her last nerve and he's only making things worse by doing that clingy, possessive, jealous schtick people tend to do when they know they're about to get dumped. But the money's been spent, she's feeling obligated, and she doesn't want to hurt him. Good grief. When I was sixteen, the most my boyfriend ever bought me was a leather bracelet and a hot dog. It seemed a lot simpler, somehow.
My daughter is heading off to Costa Rica this week. Her boyfriend's family bought her ticket and are covering all her expenses, because apparently they have money to burn. Last year, when she asked if she could accept the invitation, I was reluctant to say yes because she's sixteen, there were several months to go before the trip and what on earth was she going to do if they broke up in the meantime. Eventually I caved though, because I can't afford to give her this kind of opportunity, and I really want her to see how people live outside North America. And let's face it, if she has to rely on me for a vacation this year, she'll be looking at a campground in one of the free forestry sites in the interior. Anyhow, here we are a few days from departure and she's all fucked up because the boyfriend's condescending, know-it-all attitude is on her last nerve and he's only making things worse by doing that clingy, possessive, jealous schtick people tend to do when they know they're about to get dumped. But the money's been spent, she's feeling obligated, and she doesn't want to hurt him. Good grief. When I was sixteen, the most my boyfriend ever bought me was a leather bracelet and a hot dog. It seemed a lot simpler, somehow.
