Finding keys, getting sick, having dinner with my parents and joining the theatre

It has been an interesting week filled with different events. I began wearing the shawl that Ellen and I bought in Edinburgh, Scotland. Well she bought one and I another that is the same colour as Cabot's kilts. It wasn't enough to keep me safe from the flu that is going around the school and having to constantly go outside for these weekly fire drills.

I have also lost respect from some of the students and therefore they recieved a huge shock when I printed out their mark entry sheets and they were astounded to discover that talking in class all day means several zeros. They protested and one even swore aloud, because none could understand that sitting around doing nothing also means I have nothing to mark. This isn't the first time I have encountered this very strange logic amongst teenagers. It seems to be a universal theme where they think the marks will appear out of nowhere. I also discovere that my academic kids are more lower functioning than I thought and I will have to spend more time with them.

I have also joined the school's theatre production as an Assistant Director and had my first week doing Caf duty where another co-worker and I vent about our day and time with the kids. We both agree we need to be mean, but it is against our nature that we are not too sure how to approach it. I have always known I had to be mean, but it just seems so strange to come on so strong with people who have done nothing to you.

I also had dinner with my parents on Wednesday and discovered that my dad will be going to Egypt as he always dreamed of and perhaps Italy and Sicily for the year after. I am very happy for him. My mother will be going to the Soo during Thanksgiving and I am also happy for her. We had a pleasant conversation and my mom kept wanting me to take a box of pizza home. They were nice enough to pick me up from Chapters and then drop me off at the subway once we were done and I thought my plan for not speaking about the wedding went well. I didn't even wear my engagement ring, because I thought my mother would make a comment about it and therefore an argument would break out. The only time I did mention the wedding was when I made a comment that Fiona was part of the bridal party. My mother made one request to see my ring.

I recieved an email from my mother stating that my parents were upset about being left out in the cold about the engagment and not included on the guest list. I wrote an email back trying to explain the situation. Our views on parenting differ quite greatly and it will take a very long time before I can trust them again. I spent most of my life negotiating my happiness and coming up with a compromise or giving it up entirely and that is something I will never understand as a future parent. (No, I am not pregant, but it doesn't stop me from seeing my students as my kids and wanting a child of my own)

I remember as a child that my mother would toss me around the room and hit me, but followed the actions with buying me a arbitrary gift. I quickly learned to loathe materialism, because it represented such insincerity and superficiality. She would also insist that I attend piano lessons with a teacher who use to smash my head against the keyboards and whenever I really wanted something nice, she would refuse my request. I began to learn that I only recieve nice things when my mother hurts me, but not when someone else inflicts the pain. My father was torn with the situation and would reward me with something I really liked, which made me like my father quite a bit. We couldn't let my mother know as she would become hysterical and probably hurt us. I was happy to recieve such gifts, because it made my childhood bearable. It also taught me that if something made me truly happy then I must do it in secrecy.

I discovered my passion for theatre and film while in high school and I wanted to pursue it in university. My intent was to do a double major in Management and Drama, but my parents refused to invest their money into a flaky degree such as Drama and I never did make it in Management. I ended up with an English Specialist, but that did not deter me from continuing to explore different avenues in the theatre and film world including journalism.

I discovered there is no such thing as an easy carreer and all of them will drive you insane at one moment or another, but it was something I could reflect upon and know that it is the true motvivating force in my life. My parents strongly dissaproved of my involvement with theatre and so I spent most of time time doing it in secrecy and then faced the recruptions once they discovered I was juggling my full time course load with several hours in theatre and film.

I still remember the jokes people made about me being a secret agent sneaking around campus, Mississauga and Toronto fulfilling my dreams and passions whereas most parents would have thought nothing of it all. They use to say it would be similar to a person sneaking around their own house to use the washroom.

I thought once I had completed my degree and I had done everything my parents asked me to doI would be free to choose a life that made me happy. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough money to move out on my own and had to obey by their rules. I was sent to Teacher's College despite my greatest efforts never to be a teacher again. I graduated with barely any money so the hopes of moving out looked bleak and again I had to obey my parents, which meant that I had to pursue a career in something I detested. The only thing I learned at this moment is that I had to make a choice of either spending an entire life unhappy, because I don't have any money to move out or take on a huge debt to move out of the house but be happy. I chose the debt.

Meanwhile, I had found love in Australia. I had found a person who would drive me insane at moments, but we were happy. He was younger than I and he came from a different culture. He was Hindu, Indian and an Ambassador's son. My mother abhored the idea that I could actually choose someone of that background and made my life back in Canada intolerable. Despite the fact that my boyfriend and father seemed to get along, I didn't recieve any support from my father. We broke up and I found someone else. I brought him home one day thinking that my parents would like him. My mother had introduced us and he was similar to my ex-boyfriend who had shared similar interests.

My father looked at him and conjured this theory that my boyfriend was using me for money. My mother finally believed him. My boyfriend and I couldn't understand it for at the moment my boyfriend had already spent nearly a grand on me and I barely spent anything. We met on a reserve and when it came time for me to make an emergency leave, my boyfriend gave me $400 cash no questions asked. It wasn't a loan, but rather a gift. He would continue to do such acts. He paid for his trip to Germany and England by placing $700 cash on our kitchen counter just to prove that he was not ripping me off. My parents saw it on the counter for a week, but continued to think he was using me for money. He bought me my camera that I used on my trip as an anniversary gift, but still they thought he was after my money. We kept on trying and trying and trying to reason with them, but nothing ever worked. He wasn't allowed to step foot into my house for most of our realtionship and in the two years we have been together, my mother only called him by his name two to four times. Despite this huge resentment and paranoia against Adrian, he always respected my parents and tried to be nice to them.

I thought once I moved out we could put our differences behind. I spent a long time cleaning up the apartment and sweeping it. Adrian helped to make the place presentable too. I was so excited about my parents seeing my place, but when my mother came in she didn't take off her shoes and simply walked around the place like it was some kind of pigstye. She also thought it wasn't worth the price. She insisted that I should be able to get a two story loft for $1075. My father - a traditional Catholic who is against the idea of moving in before marraige - refused to step on the sidewalk outside my apartment and stayed in the car. I knew then that my parents were incapable of being happy for me.

I always tell people that I am not angry at my parents nor do I feel any ill feelings towards them. It is simply a matter of difference. I could never do what they did to me, but perhaps it is because I am just too mushy. They will never understand why I made certain decisions. I think we can safely say that we do love each other unconditionally and that we will be there to support each other in times of need. I only slightly regret my decision, because it means there won't be a father daugther dance at the wedding or anyone to walk with me down the aisle. I think we are better off agreeing that we disagree about our actions.