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meitantei_cjSo the first thing that I'm greeted with when the roomie gets back? DRAMA.
A spent the break at Heather's place in NJ with Heather's dad. She neglected to say thank you. Heather's dad is now ticked off that she didn't thank him for the hospitality. Heather says A is now freaking out because of it, and now doesn't WANT to apologize/say thank you because he'll be expecting it and it'll seem like she's just doing it because he's expecting it. I was like, "So...?" A's afraid it'll seem half-assed. I told Heather that as long as A apologizes and doesn't make it sound half-assed, it'll clear the air. Heather's like, "No, because I don't think he realizes what he's done to a 20-year-old kid. She was having panic attacks before she left for break, and now she's back at school, and we left at seven in the morning, and the last thing on her mind was a thank you. And he brought up her upbringing, and he had no right to talk about her parents. He's known her for like a week." Except the child is a reflection on the parents. So.
I can't, y'all. Two completely different generations live in this room. BUT, at least I'm not the only one seeing the rudeness. How many seconds does it take to say two words? Or, here you go, "Thank you for having me." Done. But then, that's how I was raised. If Heather comes up here complaining again, I'm letting her have it and she can agree with me or not. A needs to get over it and apologize. If she doesn't want to do it verbally, she needs to write a letter or get a card or something. But Heather's dad isn't wrong in feeling the way he feels. It's like he opened up his home to her and her lack of acknowledgement/thanks just stepped all over it. And it's impossible for Heather to understand that.
Kids.
ANYWAY.
Back on campus, obviously, and I can already feel the stress creeping back. (The aforementioned shitstorm did not help.) I have a video project I'm having issues finishing (I'd be fine if it weren't for the second part... "What is writing across media"? UGH), a ceramics project that I really hope I don't end up having to do because I'm going to lose time going to NCECA (seriously, can I just throw a shit-ton of bowls for this year's Empty Bowls event? Because I will do that. I will do the hell out of it), and hopefully a meeting with my DAP group tomorrow so we can MAYBE bang some stuff out. Also some possible training for work. I'm leaving campus on Tuesday night. Matt's driving most of us on the Wednesday flight down to his parents' place, since they live about twenty minutes from the airport, and we're gonna go from there. This is excellent, since I really didn't want to hitch a ride with Kitty and her boyfriend. I didn't want to impose. Matt offered it and I feel less... um... something about it. Awkward, maybe. Whatever the word is I'm looking for, I'm kinda tired. XD; I need to do some reading before tomorrow morning. I'd do it in the morning, but now I actually have hair to deal with.
... which I didn't mention here, only on Facebook. Well, I had my locs cut off. I wanted a change, and I got tired of their length (which was only down to my shoulders, but still). My hair is now quite short, maybe an inch long unstretched (1 1/2" for the longer bits) and I'm loving it. Yeah, I now have to wash my hair quite a bit and do something with it in the mornings other than slap a headband on it (although there will still be plenty of that while it's still super-short), but I haven't looked back since it was cut. Mom and Craig were less than enthused and I don't know if Dad's seen it. One reason, though not at all the main one, for doing it, was to get in touch with who I am, my ethnicity. I don't pay much attention to it normally. It's not a big part of my life like it is for so many other people. I don't identify with my ethnicity at all. I don't listen to the music, I don't watch the shows or the movies, I don't read the books. The only thing about me that is undeniably black is my hair, and there's absolutely nothing that will change that... so part of my reasoning was to get to know that side of myself. I want to learn about my hair, if that makes any sense.
And actually, I think it's filled me with some kind of confidence, because I went clothes shopping a couple of days later and bought things in warm colors. This is not a thing for me, usually. It's always blues and neutrals. I bought yellows and orange and red. And a pinkish fuschia color. I still did get some blues, but that's my favorite color, so it's kind of expected. It's the other stuff that kind of shocked me. Also, I think over the break the dysphoria bout broke. I'm not worrying about it as much. The hair's distracted me, I guess?
Pic whenever I get around to it. XD;; I have stuff to do tonight before I sleep.
A spent the break at Heather's place in NJ with Heather's dad. She neglected to say thank you. Heather's dad is now ticked off that she didn't thank him for the hospitality. Heather says A is now freaking out because of it, and now doesn't WANT to apologize/say thank you because he'll be expecting it and it'll seem like she's just doing it because he's expecting it. I was like, "So...?" A's afraid it'll seem half-assed. I told Heather that as long as A apologizes and doesn't make it sound half-assed, it'll clear the air. Heather's like, "No, because I don't think he realizes what he's done to a 20-year-old kid. She was having panic attacks before she left for break, and now she's back at school, and we left at seven in the morning, and the last thing on her mind was a thank you. And he brought up her upbringing, and he had no right to talk about her parents. He's known her for like a week." Except the child is a reflection on the parents. So.
I can't, y'all. Two completely different generations live in this room. BUT, at least I'm not the only one seeing the rudeness. How many seconds does it take to say two words? Or, here you go, "Thank you for having me." Done. But then, that's how I was raised. If Heather comes up here complaining again, I'm letting her have it and she can agree with me or not. A needs to get over it and apologize. If she doesn't want to do it verbally, she needs to write a letter or get a card or something. But Heather's dad isn't wrong in feeling the way he feels. It's like he opened up his home to her and her lack of acknowledgement/thanks just stepped all over it. And it's impossible for Heather to understand that.
Kids.
ANYWAY.
Back on campus, obviously, and I can already feel the stress creeping back. (The aforementioned shitstorm did not help.) I have a video project I'm having issues finishing (I'd be fine if it weren't for the second part... "What is writing across media"? UGH), a ceramics project that I really hope I don't end up having to do because I'm going to lose time going to NCECA (seriously, can I just throw a shit-ton of bowls for this year's Empty Bowls event? Because I will do that. I will do the hell out of it), and hopefully a meeting with my DAP group tomorrow so we can MAYBE bang some stuff out. Also some possible training for work. I'm leaving campus on Tuesday night. Matt's driving most of us on the Wednesday flight down to his parents' place, since they live about twenty minutes from the airport, and we're gonna go from there. This is excellent, since I really didn't want to hitch a ride with Kitty and her boyfriend. I didn't want to impose. Matt offered it and I feel less... um... something about it. Awkward, maybe. Whatever the word is I'm looking for, I'm kinda tired. XD; I need to do some reading before tomorrow morning. I'd do it in the morning, but now I actually have hair to deal with.
... which I didn't mention here, only on Facebook. Well, I had my locs cut off. I wanted a change, and I got tired of their length (which was only down to my shoulders, but still). My hair is now quite short, maybe an inch long unstretched (1 1/2" for the longer bits) and I'm loving it. Yeah, I now have to wash my hair quite a bit and do something with it in the mornings other than slap a headband on it (although there will still be plenty of that while it's still super-short), but I haven't looked back since it was cut. Mom and Craig were less than enthused and I don't know if Dad's seen it. One reason, though not at all the main one, for doing it, was to get in touch with who I am, my ethnicity. I don't pay much attention to it normally. It's not a big part of my life like it is for so many other people. I don't identify with my ethnicity at all. I don't listen to the music, I don't watch the shows or the movies, I don't read the books. The only thing about me that is undeniably black is my hair, and there's absolutely nothing that will change that... so part of my reasoning was to get to know that side of myself. I want to learn about my hair, if that makes any sense.
And actually, I think it's filled me with some kind of confidence, because I went clothes shopping a couple of days later and bought things in warm colors. This is not a thing for me, usually. It's always blues and neutrals. I bought yellows and orange and red. And a pinkish fuschia color. I still did get some blues, but that's my favorite color, so it's kind of expected. It's the other stuff that kind of shocked me. Also, I think over the break the dysphoria bout broke. I'm not worrying about it as much. The hair's distracted me, I guess?
Pic whenever I get around to it. XD;; I have stuff to do tonight before I sleep.
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no subject
Date: 2013-03-18 06:55 pm (UTC)How much longer until you can move out and not have this be your problem anymore? D:
btw, I love your hair! A friend of mine (who is black) has hair shorter than yours and rocks it amazingly well. If I can actually find a picture of her I'll show you. I think you could totally go shorter if you wanted. Hopefully your mom and Craig'll come around, but meh, you can't win 'em all. As long as you're happy that's all that matters!
no subject
Date: 2013-03-18 08:32 pm (UTC)But yeah, Heather doesn't see A's rudeness. I still remember when she didn't introduce me to her family that time last semester and I know she saw me standing next to Heather. They were probably wondering who the hell the black girl was that kept following them all around. As soon as I saw Sophie and Kymberly, I made a break for it.
Mom and Craig kind of stopped talking about it (although Craig did take a small jab by calling me... Shaniqua, I think? XD;;). It's hair, it'll grow. Unless I want to keep it this length, in which case they'll just have to deal with it. XD