Randomly Unrelated Thoughts

Got it in one, Kamille. I'm not surprised you guessed it right.

• I think it's really unfair that I can't just sleep for, like, a week. I should totally be independently wealthy so I can just never leave the house again.

• I am looking forward to going back to choir again next week. This class has been good for me even though it has been difficult and I have not done all the assignments but I am ready for it to be over.

• I realized last Friday that my mother will never ever approve of the way I do things. Anything at all, ever. More importantly, though, I realized that I don't need her approval to be okay. She loves me. She doesn't understand me and probably never will, and that's okay. I think I can stop hoping for the approval that isn't there and start appreciating the things that are, and hopefully have a better perspective on her and me and our relationship now. This is not entirely unrelated to the above thought, because of the things we've been talking about in class.

I've never been able to separate her opinion on the way I do things with her opinion of me personally before. They're related, sure, but they aren't the same thing. And her disapproval is based on her perspective, her idea of what she thinks it is I do and don't do. Her complete lack of a fangirl gene factors in hugely. I get that from Dad, although he's not a fanboy. He has an appreciation of pop culture that completely baffles her, and of course I took that appreciation and magnified it a thousandfold into actual fangirlism. She never really even had a hobby until she took up quilting a couple years ago. So I tell her I'm going to a fan convention and get nothing but crickets. Literally. She completely has no idea what to say and so says nothing. It's sort of funny in a totally ironic way - she can't believe I'm willing to spend so much money on tickets and hotels and airfare and pictures with/autographs from certain celebrities (and ONLY certain celebs -I am totally monogamous with whichever fandom I am currently in; I am not wired for polyamoury panfandom interaction) and at the same time, she was seriously giddy over finding a special quilting machine which was more than the total cost of one of my con trips which she bought and set up in my old bedroom at her house. I SWEAR, MOM, IT'S THE SAME THING. REALLY.