Monday, August 18, 2003
There are times when I respect my mother. And then there are times when she really, really gets on my nerves. Lije tonight my dad was doing her hair. He went to beauty school for awhile and though he never finished I can tell he still wishes he did. He has those plastic dummy heads that he works on every spare minute he has. So anyways, while he was doing my mom's hair my sister commented that he was doing pretty well and maybe find a job doing it. then when he was out of the room my mom scolded her for saying it; apparently my mom didn't want to encourage him because he "wasn't as good as the ones in professional salons." I was shocked. So what if he isn't as good, he can still my dream can't he? And there's no plausible reason why he can't just go back to beauty school and do it professionally.
That's the problem I have with my mom - she's too realistic. I realize that she was probably raised that way but still I can't stand it when she bursts someone's dream like a bubble. I've always loved my dad because he reminds me of that guy with the afro who used to paint on tv - Bob something. They both found simple enjoyment in the small things; for Bob it was painting, for my dad it's things like baseball and hair styling. Those sorts of people have my deepest respect and are the ones I try to emulate the most.
I know both my parents are depressed right now, and I try to be there for both of them, but it's hard when my mom keeps complaining about work and the bills and life in general. I know when she was a teen she loved history and latin, like me, but somewhere down the road he dreams got diffused and she's what she is now. Maybe I am too much of a dreamer - but I'd rather stay that way.
That's the problem I have with my mom - she's too realistic. I realize that she was probably raised that way but still I can't stand it when she bursts someone's dream like a bubble. I've always loved my dad because he reminds me of that guy with the afro who used to paint on tv - Bob something. They both found simple enjoyment in the small things; for Bob it was painting, for my dad it's things like baseball and hair styling. Those sorts of people have my deepest respect and are the ones I try to emulate the most.
I know both my parents are depressed right now, and I try to be there for both of them, but it's hard when my mom keeps complaining about work and the bills and life in general. I know when she was a teen she loved history and latin, like me, but somewhere down the road he dreams got diffused and she's what she is now. Maybe I am too much of a dreamer - but I'd rather stay that way.