The Forgotten, Unloved & Miserable .............. << previous // next >>

Friday February 15th, 2002. - 4:44 PM

Today I got up insanely early at 5:30 AM. I felt like a zombie, since I hadn't been able to sleep until around 2 AM. Yep, I hardly got any sleep at all. Aren't you surprised that I'm even alive right now? I am. Well, the reason why I got up so early was because I was going with my father to the hospital. He was supposed to have surgery on his thumb at 7:15 AM (sidenote: more on this later). Anyway, I don't know the technical term (nor do I care), but it has been quite painful for my dad. He could barely bend his thumb joint and when he did, it hurt. No, it wasn't arthritis (I would have remembered that term). It's something much worse (I deem it to be worse, though I am no doctor by any stretch of the imagination). Anyway, so my dad had been putting up with this pain for several weeks (he's so brave). When he went to the family doctor, he had to go to a specialist to treat it. My dad had to take these injections in his thumb. The specialist said that if by 2 injections (over the span of a few weeks), the problem did not go away, surgery was the next step. Unfortunately, this is what he eventually had to undergo.

So, I got up at 5:30 AM because I thought that we were going to be leaving at 6 AM because his surgery was to take place at 7:15 AM. Well, it turns out that we left the house at 6:30 AM and took the taxi to the hospital. I've only ever been in a taxi a few other times (all of which were completely horrible experiences). I'm not saying that taxis are horrible. Merely, I am saying that everytime I have the need to use a taxi, I'm usually in a terrible predicament (example: going to the hospital). Anyway, first thing in the morning, this cab driver was racing down the street. He was a mad man!!!! His stops were jerky and it's especially at moments like these that I really really realllllyyyy appreciate my dad's driving skills (smooth and SAFE!). Anyway, I was thinking to myself, "Geez buddy! We're already on our way to the hospital."

You know...I actually read the rider's bill of rights in the taxi. It was on the head rest in front of me, so I couldn't not see it. It was practically waving out towards me, yelling, "Look at me! Look at me!". I remember one of them said something like "As a rider, you are entitled to a silent ride if you so choose". I think that the next time (if ever) I have to take a cab, I'm going to say to the driver: "Hi. I would like a silent ride." Haha...whatever. I don't think that anyone does that. Still, it would be interesting to see the expression on his/her face. I say his/her to be 'politically correct'. You know as well as I do that most taxi drivers are male. Frankly, as far as gender equality goes on the issue of taxi drivers, I can't say that I care whether or not I get a male or female. All I care is that I get from Point A to Point B safely and ALIVE.

Anyway, so....we arrived early and my dad registered. We then learned from the receptionist that the doctor would only be in at 8 AM. 8 AM!!!!!!! Why the heck did they tell us to be there at 7:15 AM if the doctor wouldn't come for another 45 minutes??? That kinda annoyed me. I was already in a crabby mood from having to wake up at an ungodly hour. Anyway, so we walked around the hospital for a bit and sat down in one of the open lounges. It felt strange to be at a hospital so early. We actually saw all the nurses coming to begin their shift. The security guard made about 3 rounds (or so I counted). The bus that goes by the hospital, circled roughly 8 times. Yes, I am sometimes quite alert (especially when I get up at 5:30 AM!!!).

We went back to the room and then my dad had to change into the hospital gown (which made him look like a stereotypical housewife...haha). The surgery was supposed minor, as it only took roughly half an hour or so. When my dad came back, his right hand was wrapped up with that white wadding. I can't remember what it's called, but it looks like cheesecloth. Sorry, my brain isn't thinking straight now. Anyway, so we took a cab home. This time the ride seemed much safer, as in no jerky stops and not being a speed daemon.

My dad has to take Tylenol 3 (that's the one with Codeine). It's to alleviate the pain. So far he hasn't felt any pain (thank goodness). I've been saying some prayers for him. Please say some for my dad too. It would be a lot to me. Oh...and I don't care what religion you belong to. Just because I'm a Catholic doesn't mean that I don't value prayers from other religions. If you say your own prayers, I am still thankful. It's the thought that counts. Thank you.

Well...now on to trivial matters: I didn't get a single thing yesterday for Valentine's Day from anyone. I didn't get a card (even an electronic card). I didn't get candy. I didn't get a stuffed animal. I didn't get a silk chemise that I've wanted for what seemed like forever. I didn't get flowers. Well, my boyfriend got me these nice miniature roses last week. Does that count? My dad got me this 15 inch red teddy bear a few weeks ago and a card too. Do they count? I should be more than happy, but why do I feel so sad and jaded? Who took the bloom off my flowers? Does it really matter if someone gives you something or doesn't give you something on Valentine's Day? Am I becoming too materialistic and self-absorbed? Probaby I am just that. Still, I feel that I must share my hurt with you (whether it is justifiable, is up to you).

I'm feeling unloved, lonely and neglected. I feel that being sentimental and considerate to others has not been reciprocated. Now, I'm not talking about presents anymore. I am a hopeless fool for romantic gestures. I believe in Prince Charming. I am such a fool that I quickly become disappointed when I do not have my dreams and fantasies fulfilled. I set my expectations up way too high and that's why no one can ever reach them. I have subconsciously fenced myself into my own dream world, in which I alone hold the key to its entrance. This is bound to bring disappointment.

I said that I have high expectations. I expect that if I love you, then you will love me. I expect that if I do sentimental gestures, you will too. I expect that if I trust you, you will trust me. The problem in my expectations lie in the fact that they all revolve around me (me, me, me, me, meeee). I am my own conceited world. What I am to others, I expect others to be to me. I realize that nothing is this simple in a far from perfect world. I realize that people will give me headaches and heartaches, no matter how much time, love and patience I give. Life seems unfair in times like these. Why is it that the most nurturing and caring people in this world are always neglected? I give you my love, but I need some back too! I need it! I can't survive without feeling your love. I need you to show me that you love me or care about me. If it's not through words, then please let it be through actions. They speak louder.

I know that Valentine's Day is not just about heart-shaped chocolate boxes, diamond rings and teddy bears. Yes, it's a time to appreciate people because they might not always be there. I know that very well, but I'm still really disappointed that I was "forgotten". Well, perhaps I wasn't totally forgotten because my boyfriend called me on the phone to wish me a good one. That's something. Still, I think that last year's Valentine's Day was so much better. Danny and I had gone out to a restaurant. It was magical and so special. There's never been an evening quite like it since. I miss the magic and I miss feeling special. I know that everyone is special in God's eyes, but sometimes just knowing that doesn't comfort the soul. When I'm disappointed and sad, I'm also irrational. Sometimes you just need someone to tell you they care. Oh, and I don't mean literally telling someone that they're special. You can say anything you want and it might not change a thing. You have to do something to make a person FEEL special. All the words spewing out of your eloquent mouth does nothing if the words are empty or just feel hollow. You can't say something for the sake of saying something, just to fill the silence (which, by the way, I am totally comfortable with). If you say "I love you", but I don't feel it, I'm not going to say it back. Words must always be meaningful or else what's the point? I could read lovely poetry if I wanted to hear something romantic and eloquent. I don't care if you stutter or clear your throat a hundred times, as long as you're next to me. You can be beside a person without having to utter a single word and yet both people are content. It's not the flowery words that matter. It's the person that matters.

I feel so melancholy and glum. My composure is sinister and stern. I don't feel like smiling or laughing or acting hyper, with a tank full of sugar. Sometimes sadness has to go away on its own. You can't force it away, because the reason you were sad will always come back to haunt you. You have to wait it out and reflect upon the matter, sometimes. This is what I'm doing now. I hope that by writing it all out, this sadness will go away. I hate being like this and I'm sure that you don't appreciate it the least.

I'll try to get out of this slum and on to other things that I've been up to during the last few weeks. I haven't written in here since January, right? Geez that's a long time that I've gone without writing. Well, I'm sure that I've neglected this diary for a lot longer than that, but still...whoa! Okay, well...let me tell you about something interesting (or at least interesting in my own mind). A few weeks ago, Nicole and I went to this tattoo parlour. No, I didn't get a tattoo or any piercings (I knew you were wondering about that once I mentioned that I had gone there). If you didn't wonder, well then, good for you. You've proved me wrong. Anyway, Nicole wanted to get her belly button pierced. It was the first time that I had ever been in a tattoo parlour. It was neat and kinda weird too. The whole wall was filled with tattoo artwork, each framed and presented in a proud fashion. They are really talented. Anyway, so this place was somewhat busy. So many people came in and out. There was a woman ahead of Nicole, who was getting her tongue pierced. You know what? A lot of my friends have body piercings or tattoos. I'm one of the few in my group who has neither a tattoo nor any piercings. They look really cool on other people, but I find no interest in doing that to myself. Anyway, so it cost Nicole $40 to get her belly button pierced. She was really brave. She didn't even scream when they did it to her. Haha...if it was me, I would probably cry like a wuss. Anyway, I never knew that Nicole had an outtie belly button until that day. That's really neat because not many people have that. Personally, I'm an innie (just the plain same old thing).

Oh...and hey...did you know that it was my dad's 63rd birthday last month? Well, now you know. I had the hardest time buying a birthday card. There is a strange anomaly at the Hallmark stores and just greeting card stores in general. Why is it that the mothers' cards section is a whole bay full and the fathers' cards section carries just a handful of cards that are often ugly or without much substance? It took me a few days and much searching through several stores to find the perfect one. In my mind, the 'perfect one' translates to having a thoughtful sophisticated message and a pleasing-to-the-eye design. I never was a big fan of those stupid-funny cards. I like humourous cards, but just not the "stupid-funny" ones. However, I enjoy the sophisticated serious ones the most because often they say something really heart-felt and anyone who knows me, knows that I'm a sentimental fool. That brings me back to the whole being-left-out-at-Valentine's issue. *Sigh* I'm not doing very well at detering from that topic, now am I? *Mary shakes her head*

You know what? I think that my musical taste is changing again. Well, I listen to practically everything (Dance, pop, rock, r&b, golden oldies, country, alternative, some heavy metal, some classical and just a tad of rap). While I listen to all of these types, I usually find myself listening to more of certain types, depending on my mood. Right now, I'm feeling kinda blah, down and blue, so I'm into a whole lot of rock and alternative. I went through a phase of rock when I was in the last year in highschool. Now I'm going back to it (not the same bands, but the same 'hard' music). I've jumped from listening to Chum FM to CHFI FM 98 to The Edge to CFRB 1010. Thanks to great inventions and computer file-sharing programs like Napster and WinMX, I have become a proud musicaholic. I'm not alone. I know I'm not.

Well...I have nothing more to say. I feel a little bit better than before, but still rather melancholy. I'm going to go munch on something. The food seems to be calling my name out...haha....Maaarrryyy!!! Maaaarrryyy!!! Okay...that was way too wacky for my liking. If I continue, you'll question my sanity!!!! *Smirk* Well...take care and I'll write again hopefully before the end of the month rolls by. We'll see. Psss...oh yeah...and here's just a little reminder. It's gonna be my birthday on February 25th!!!! Oh gosh, I can't imagine how I'll feel if I'm forgotten again, but on my birthday....*sigh*.....

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TRIVIAL TIDBITS ABOUT ME: RIGHT NOW

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EYES: No eyeliner/mascara. Cut me some slack! I had to get up so early. There was no time and I was going to a hospital.

NAILS: Natural (no nailpolish). Lately I don't feel like painting them.

LIPS: Moisturized with chapstick

HAIR: Blow dried straight and put up in a messy ponytail

THINKING ABOUT: How silly I am to have felt so down about that whole Valentine's Day issue. I feel better now about it. Writing/Typing really is good therapy especially when you're feeling down.

WISHING: Britney Spears wasn't on every other channel during prime time. What's up with that? If it's not that song "I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman", it's her promotion for her new movie, "Crossroads". I'm going to coin a term. It's called Britney captialism.

SONG STUCK IN MY HEAD: "How You Remind Me" AND "Too Bad" both by Nickelback. I love the way the lead singer sings. It's just awesome. His voice is just so rough and edgy. Also, the songs' lyrics are quite significant to me.

SONG I'M LISTENING TO NOW: "Another Perfect Day" by American Hi-Fi. I love this song to death. I love the lead singer's voice here too. It's more mellow, but also edgy. Hmmm...I seem to have this strong like for 'edgy voices'. I wonder what that means. (Sidenote: There's a lot to be said about voices, afterall, as I learned from watching the boob tube, the same time that Barry White's album went platinum or whatever it was, the birth rate increased significantly. Yes, I know that correlation does not imply causation, but it's interesting to wonder, isn't it? *wink wink* Hehehe)

LAST PHONE CONVERSATION WITH: My boyfriend (last night)

NOTE TO SELF (This isn't meant to be understood by everyone, solely Mary Shaw and her twisted mind...*Smirk* I haven't gone bonkers...It's just in a code format): "Get up close and personal, wildcat!"

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