sista ty and homespun steps
Written @ 1:31 p.m. on 2006-10-03
jumping on the bed is still fun, even at 22. I sang i love tynetta in a sing song song voice after i got off the phone with her and jumped on the bed until something underneath it made a noise of surrender.
my cousin tynetta asked me to email her my resume because she's helping me to find a job. the recent change in our relationship was a surprise, but then i also have to consider that there is at least a 10 year age difference between us.
she's become someone i can look up to and joke around with and that's really nice because i used to be that pesky little girl with her pesky little sister at our grandmother's breakfast table. i recall her scowling a lot and my thinking she was mean. it's strange that a matter-of-fact delivery of blunt observations made me think she didn't like me and that a lack of tact is clearly genetic as i didn't develop any of my own until my late teens.
perhaps that is why i really love tynetta so much now. it's not just that i'm older and we can actually carry on conversations, but that we each have that special combination of often brutal honesty, warmth, and sincerity.
tynetta will always have something to say about my hair and i will always smile and laugh it off as i give whatever explanation seems resonable enough at the time, not really fighting back because she's much shorter than i am and verbally pounding her doesn't seem fair. finding my resume and putting it on a computer i could use often proved to be an hour long task and then some. sure we started around 1 but everything didn't really come together til 11. but in the process of all that plugging and unplugging i got to listen to my itunes.
and i found out that you can be homesick for music. it was one of the strangest and most beautiful things. even songs i'd only half way listened to meant somehting to me. scrolling down through the playlists not really having time to listen to anything more than one or two songs, as i was on another mission at the time, it made me a little heartbroken, a little eager for my own space and my own things.
i am that bummy little college student struggling to save up some money after graduation, living in her mother's house, with minimal bills to pay, but with minimal finances. like the song says, i want to break free. this isn't a prison more like a well furnished hostile. my other cohabitant is biznatchy. my youngest sister who turned 16 saturday has the hugest and most obnoxious mood swings. seriously, why do people have children? and there is the dog. remember, my mother who swore up and down that there was never going to be any pets in her house got a dog. and he's cute as most dogs are, but he's hyper and sees any cracked door as an open invitation. and for some reason he doesn't seem to realize that i'm ignoring him because i don't want to pet him right then and there. or my sitting in front of the computer or lying on a bed does not mean come over and put your head on my lap.
blegh. i'm not going to complain here. there are a lot of things i'm grateful for, a lot of goals i'm slowly reaching, and it's a pretty ok time to be me.
so let's hope things keep looking up and if they don't let's hope i have the strength of will to turn things around.
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