Midnight Impulse

learning experiences and impulsive decisions

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Today I woke up at 10, went downstairs at 11:15, had some breakfast, and sat down on the couch in the living room to read A Game of Thrones.  My dad told me the family is going over to the mall for coffee, and asked me if I’d like to come.  Having nothing better to do, I accepted and went upstairs to change.  

However, I never seem to learn just how terribly these family outings always go.  I always have a terrible time.  It’s irritating how different and unlike my family I feel.  They are in their 40s and 50s raising three kids, all under the age of 10, and there I am, the teenager born in a different decade than anybody else, with a mindset different from everybody else’s.  

We park the car and I notice several taxis from the same company parked outside.  Perhaps this is their new company headquarters?  Thinking we’d go to the coffee house on the first floor of the mall, we instead go up the escalator to the food court, which is apparently where my parents like to get coffee.  From a booth.  In styrofoam cups.  Already irritated and no longer in the mood for “coffee,” I sit down on a table and wait while my parents get their coffee and a couple of cupcakes for the kids.  After finishing off the food, everybody gets off the table.  I aks where we’re going, and my dad says “I don’t know, we’ll just walk around the mall.”  What a fun activity!  My bad-mood-radiating aura gets to him, and dad gets pretty mad at me.  He says I always act this way every time I come out with the rest of the family, then he asks if I act the same around my friends too.  I tell him no, I only act this way around you.  He then retorts that maybe I should just not come out with the family anymore.  Shocked, I throw out a “Fine then!” and ask for the house keys.  I wait while my mom takes out the remote for the garage and the keys to the kitchen door from her key rings.  Snatching them both, I collect my things and stalk off, down the escalator, out the mall entrance, and towards the taxis I’d seen in the parking lot earlier.  I give the man directions to the house and off we go.  On the way home, I do realize how selfish and spoiled my behaviour towards the coffee was.  I expect too much when I really shouldn’t, and I take everything for granted. 

I get home, walk up the driveway and wait for the garage door to open.  There is a light rain out.  I get inside and take out the keys to the kitchen door.  Jamming it into the keyhole, I try to turn it again and again, to no avail.  After about 10 minutes of this, I walk out the garage and go over to the house’s backdoor, also leading into the kitchen.  Navigating my way up the patio staircase, which is covered in ice and snow, I finally make it to the door, but the key does not seem to belong to that door either.  I go back to the garage.

A few minutes pass, the key won’t open the lock.  At this point, I start crying out of frustration.  My phone vibrates in my pocket.  It’s my friend.  I answer the call and tell her what’s going on.  She asks me about an essay that’s due next week.  How am I supposed to explain the essay?  “Dude.  I’m STUCK OUTSIDE MY HOUSE.”  I put the phone back in my pocket, go back to the key.  Wipe at my eyes.  Black mascara smudges on the back of my palm.  Great.  The phone vibrates once more.  Speak (or think, in my case, I wasn’t really speaking to anyone right then) of the devil, it’s my dad calling.  The family is in the supermarket.  My dad asks that they found some lettuce, and whether or not I want some.  “Yeah, sure.”  

“Ok, bye.”

Coldest “bye” I’ve gotten from him in months!  

By now I’ve been standing at the door for 20 minutes, trying to get it open.  I didn’t want to tell my dad I’ve been stuck out in the garage for the whole time.  After another few minutes of fruitless trying, I cave and call my dad.  “The door won’t open.” I whine into the phone.  

“Try turning it.”  

“It won’t turn.”

“Turn it to the left while holding onto the door handle.”  

“That’s what I’ve been doing this whole time!” Proving my point, I hold my phone between my jaw and shoulder and grab the door handle and the key, trying to turn it.  Again, it won’t budge.  “It’s not working.”

“Well we’re at the supermarket now, we’ll be leaving in about 10 minutes.  Maybe you can just wait?”  Wait?  For him to come and see me there, dealing with the aftermath of my hissy fit?  No thanks.  I hang up.

With a wounded pride and low morale and mascara goop streaming down my face, I go back to trying to open the door.  By accident, my hand pulls the key out of the keyhole just a tiny bit, and the key turns.  Quite easily.  I turn it counterclockwise.  Click.  Did I just double-lock it?  I turn the key clockwise.  Once.  Twice.  Pull down on the door handle.  Just like that, the door to the kitchen opens.  I go inside in disbelief.  I’d been outside for so long, walking all around the outside of the building, and this is all I had to do to get the door to open.  

I do the only logical thing left to do.  I start crying.  Hard.  

I wipe my feet on the mat, crying.  I take off my coat and throw it on the couch, crying.  I walk up the stairs to my room, crying.  I take off my jeans and my “outside” clothes, crying.  Then I lay down on my bed and cry into my thick winter blanket.  I cry because I’m mad.  I’m not sure why I’m mad, but I am.  

After a few minutes of this, I get off the bed.  I go into the bathroom and wash my face.  I wash off the light lipstick I bothered to put on.  I wash off the last bits of the mascara goop from my eyelashes and soap off the streaks on my face and backs of my palms.  I go into my room and put on a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt, put on my flipflops, and go downstairs.  

And I’ve been writing this post since then.  It’s about 2:30 PM right now.  I have a feeling (just a teeny bit of a hunch) that this day isn’t going to be too great.  

I hope you all have a better Sunday than mine.



What if money was no object of concern?

I absolutely adore Zenpencils.  Wonderful, amazing artist who illustrates very meaningful quotes in the most touching of ways.  This has to be one of the best ones so far.

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If Life is a Game

If life is a game, then the human race as a whole is most definitely losing.  I say this because instead of taking advantage of millions of years’ worth of evolution, of the fact that we have common sense to separate us from beasts, we instead decide to fight and argue and bicker and kill and design weapons of mass destruction and threaten one another with them. Rather than making communities safer, gun laws are made more lax.  Instead of cooperating peacefully with other nations across the world, we are willing to kill to prove our beliefs are more righteous than those of others.  Instead of accepting one another’s choices in life, we protest in the streets, claiming everything “unethical.”  So many pointless murders have happened during our very short existence.
Religions were intended to unit people and spread peace.  Instead, they have managed to create more differences.  Anti gay vs pro gay marriage; pro life vs pro choice; conservative-minded and liberal-minded.  And to a larger scale: religious wars. So many people seem to misinterpret religious texts, taking it to their advantage by claiming that god meant this land to be theirs, or that they are superior to others, or that they kill in the name of god, so it’s alright.
Humans all throughout history have viewed themselves as superior to others rather than embracing differences.  Europeans barged into Africa, claiming territories and murdering tribes because they believed that these people, from whom all civilisation has sprung, are inferior to white men because they have skin of a different colour.  Really?  You’re going to walk into their land and say that they are lower than you?

The world is a fucked up place and I’m mad.

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Unwanted Memories

In the past several months I’ve been able to repress several memories of experiences I’ve had in the beginning of 2012.  They weren’t anything too horrible, but they were incidents that made me really upset over things.  Lately though, I’ve been for some reason remembering and reliving all these moments, and they’re really bringing me down.  At night, I lie in bed trying to fall asleep, but then I remember this or that thing, and all it takes is one single memory, a single spark, to make all the rest of the negative experiences and the negative feelings come crashing down.  Even worse than remembering them is wondering what other people were thinking about the whole situation, about me.  I know it’s silly and hypocritical for me to worry about this, but I lie there wondering who laughed at me for doing something stupid, or who talked bad about me regarding these particular things.  I find this all so terrible because I seem to have no problem talking poorly about others.  I figure if I have insecurities about others talking about me, then perhaps I should either get over it or not speak badly about others.  The latter, obviously, is the more positive thing to do.  

I know that a lot of other people probably do this, think about all the humiliating/idiotic things they’ve done/said, but does anybody have any advice on how to suppress these feelings, at least just a little bit?  I’m trying to look at them as just experiences that I would have to go through eventually, like learning experiences.  But I just can’t help feeling embarrassed.  

Thanks in advice for any feedback you have to offer.

xx Adelaide

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First Week Back in School

School started this week on Tuesday.  Things went alright and easy.  The girls I hate (the shallow fake ones.  They’re always the type I hate) aren’t back in school yet, so that made things easier.  I’m happy with myself for deciding to sit with a different group of people during recess and lunch time, it’s making me feel more at ease.  The previous group of people I sat with are thoroughly obsessed with a “band” named 1 Direction (for your sake, I hope you never hear them) and are unable to talk about much more.  Well ok no, that’s not fully true.  There are four of these obsessed girls, but two of them have just found out about the band this year and there is nothing that comes out of their loud mouths that isn’t related to the band.

It drives me insane.  And frankly, for a long time now I’ve been feeling quite left out, especially by the majorly-obsessed girls.  I used to be closer with them, but then things happened and I frankly no longer feel like having anything to do with them.  I realise how harsh this all sounds, but the problems weren’t minor little things.  I would feel angry at them for purposefully leaving me out, and I would feel angry at myself for forgiving one of them when I really shouldn’t have.  I think it’s much healthier for me to not dwell on how things turned out, or try to fix things, or try to include myself.  Rather, it’s best to separate myself from them altogether.  Being around these people makes me feel like absolute shit. For several weeks I’d walk home alone (even though we all live on the same block …) feeling so ridiculously upset.

Obviously, after a certain point, you just can’t turn things around anymore.  And even if I did, I’ll be holding several grudges till kindgom come.  I sitting down with kids a couple of years younger than me, but I think that’s been a tradition that I must fulfill.  My best friend is two years older than I am and she also had a friend in high school that was two years older than her.  It’s nice to feel … content, for once 🙂

My first week back to school has been alright.  I feel happier about the second half of the school year already.  Although it is the opposite of what I should be feeling, I am currently a lot less stressed out and I don’t feel as left out as I used to, and I’m definitely not as angry as I was the last couple of months.

I hope you all have a wonderful second half of the year!


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French and Math

I recently got my PSAT test score back.  I scored a 171/240, which I’m glad about (I think that’s good, right?  The average score is no more than 150.)  My Writing Skills section was, of course, my best area, with a whopping 68 points out of 80.  Reading Comprehension was alright, although I could stand to improve.  Math, however, was just down the gutter.  I scored higher than only 44% of people who’d taken the test, which is just awful for my standards.  

I asked our school math teacher for tutoring lessons, and he offered to give me SAT math exercises as long as I actually commit to doing them.  He said I could stay after school once or twice a week to check my answers, and I told him that it sounds like a good plan.

I also found a site called Duolingo.com which allows you to take free language courses in French, German, Spanish, and a couple other languages I believe.  It’s really nice to feel a little motivated to get things done.  I quit French class in September of this school year since I had collected all required credits and I wasn’t really learning from that class.  While doing these online exercises, I started noticing how much I’d forgotten.  It’s scary because I’ve only been away from French for four months, after taking it for four years.  I really need to constantly practice these things.

We only recently started school, first day back was this Tuesday.  It snowed a lot that night, so Wednesday was a day off.  Although I only went to school for three days the past week, I allowed myself to sleep in till 12 today.  I greatly enjoyed waking up to a bright noontime sun rather than the darkness of dawn at 7:30 (seriously.  Not even a HINT of sunlight till 8:15 AM these days.)   

Meanwhile, I’m still struggling to find the motivation to work on my AP course and make up for many of the things I haven’t yet turned in.  The shit part about it is that I shouldn’t start doing anything time-consuming until I do all the work, so until I finish doing my work, I can’t read books for pleasure, I can’t practice drawing, and I feel real guilty going out.  

I’m such an excuse-maker, really.  I need to make myself a work schedule and a reward system.  But everybody knows I don’t do well with those either.  

Just a little update.

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend!



My Future [Part 1]

I’ve heard from so many people that it’s alright not knowing what I want to do with the rest of my life, that I don’t have to decide right now what I’ll major in once I enter university.  Well, my problem is that I don’t know where I want to spend the rest of my life.  Although my teachers are all providing us with a good amount of guidance for finding universities, the one question that nobody cares about us finding the answer to is where we plan to live after university.  

The whole university search process is probably so much easier for kids who rarely travel and/or for those who feel happy where they are.  I, on the other hand, have no idea where I see myself in 10 years.  Which is normal, I guess.  But I at least want to have an image of which continent I’ll be on.  

I’d love to study in New York, but I’m not sure whether I should be going there for my undergraduate degree.  It’ll be very hard moving from this tiny little city to NYC, especially since I’m going there all by myself at the age of 18.  At the same time, I’d very much like to give Paris a try.  I’ve been yearning to go back there since the first time I went, in 2010; I didn’t appreciate it back then, but I do now.  The last option is Montreal, Canada, but that’s only if I fail at everything else.


More on this to come.

xx Adelaide