Notes from yesterday

Do I think that my mother loves me as much as my other siblings? No. Wait, I know that she loves me. I know inside her there isn't a difference of love that she feels towards the five of us, I just think she has different ways of showing it. To some of us she shows it often and in an uninhibited manor, to the rest of us, her showing of affection is sporadic and completely determined by what sort of mood she's in. If she's had a good day and we don't do anything to irritate her, which could be something so trivial as to turn the heat off, then we should be able to coexist in a peaceful manner. Which to some people doesn't at all sound like a good relationship between mother and child. Especially mother and daughter. I'm not sure why we're so obsessed with having such a good bond. I won't pretend that it wouldn't be nice if it were different, its not. And I'd like to make sure that I have a better relationship with any children that I might have.

I'm not sure about writing in such an honest manner. But it's not like I have any readers currently and there's always the hope that it'll get lost in the general abyss that is my span of journal entries. And honestly, if I can't be honest with myself, who can I be honest with.

I just did something that I hate and I'm so ashamed of myself. Adam and I were talking the other night about how we try not to stare at people who have physical disability or deformity of some kind. I know he hates it when people stare or make comments on his hair. Well, lovely me, I just did a double take of the gentleman next to me who had what I can only describe as cauliflower ear. You know, the thing that boxers get after being hit in the ear so many times. Well, if you don't know I won't blame you because I only know on account of Adam.

I find spoilt kids so obnoxious. In my imagination, this particular child in which I'm referring to is an only child. His mother looks quite old (how old she actually is, we shall never know) and I imagine that they had many painstaking attempts at IVF before she was graced with a son. And to show her thanks, not just for getting pregnant but getting pregnant with a boy to carry on her husbands name, she dotes on him. From his multicoloured Nike trainers to his DS and PSP which she carries around for his entertainment, it is quite obvious this boy has too much. Mind you, who am I to say what another person can and should give to their child. I don't have children, but if I did, I don't imagine they'd be like this little boy. The sound of his PSP is akin to nails across a chalkboard. And his constant requests for food, despite as his mother said, just having had lunch.

Adam and I just went to purchase me a new laptop for school. My one is old and doesn't give me nearly any of the functions that I need. Just checking my emails is a chore, hence the reason for updating from my blackberry.

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