I'm so tired. I woke up at... at... a reasonable hour. Yep! I didn't wake up at noon. I woke up at 7. Of course, I woke up very reluctantly, and then slept on the couch. But Mum had to go to class. I want to go upstairs and work on her painting, but my little brother is asleep, and if he wakes up alone, he'll get angry and disoriented. *shrugs* Not that that's any different from what we all normally do. Anyway, my painting for Mum is almost finished. I just need to paint on the rest of the stems and leaves on the fishie, and then it'll be all done! (If you don't understand, go back an entry... I'm too lazy and caffiene-less to explain) I should finish in a day or two. And I need to get to work on reading! ACK!
Anyway, yep. That's my life. The extent of it. The very boring extent of it. I realised that I haven't seen any movies this week, so I'm upset. I usually try to fit in a movie per week. I did start watching one, but about 15 minutes in, I wasn't following because I couldn't pay attention over my brother's complaining. So I had to turn it. Two weeks ago I saw on called "Witches", about a group of witches that plan to turn every little English boy into mice. It was pretty... boring. Worthless. It wasn't interesting to me, even if the information on the movie lied to me, claiming the movie had 3 stars. So, right afterwards this movie called "Chaplin", about (you guessed it!) Charlie Chaplin. I got to watch ten minutes of it, and it was so interesting, but my brother started complaining, "Are you REALLY gonna make me watch ANOTHER boring movie?" So I screamed at him, and turned it to the Fairly Odd Parents and stormed out of the room to clean someplace.
I've noticed that he gets meaner and meaner to me. We're really tight, so at the end of an argument, it doesn't matter, but still, he always finds fault in what I do. I know he's my little brother, and I should probably ignore it, but I can't tell a joke or a story or watch a movie or anything without some deconstructive criticism from over my shoulder. He's always badgering me to play video games with him, and I don't mind that at all, because it's a way to spend time with him. But when I start playing, he tells me that I'm doing everything wrong, talking down to me. And that's really hard to do considering that I'm over six feet tall. I think that subconciously he's trying to make it an easier transition when I move out and into my dorm room. If he's mad at me, then it'll be easy not to have me around. He didn't even know for sure that I wasn't going to be living with the rest of the family, I had to explain it last night that Columbia requires its students to live in a dorm for the first year, so I could only see my family on weekends.
That bothers me, too. On one hand, it'll be nice to taste a little freedom. My mum's kept a really close eye on me all these years, not letting me date the wrong guys, keeping me from going to some parties and stuff, and I'm glad for that. Because now that I'll live away from her, I'll know right from wrong and focus on my studies instead of my social life. Some people would be angry about that, though, and would go off to college thinking, "This is it. Now I can do whatever I want." Columbia is a really tough place. I'm basically getting in on the lowest criteria with a lot of nepitism, so teachers and administrators are going to look for reasons to punish me. I just have that feeling. Because, think about it, I'm not paying a cent for my education, and therefore I'm not paying the workers at the school, just because my dad works there. Of course, he is the boss of quite a few people, if anybody gives me trouble, I'll tell him about it, and then tell my mum to make him do something about it (he won't otherwise).
So I'm on the best of behaviour in the city! I do want to check out the Irish section of town, sometime... I'd love to join up in some groups to win that Rose of Trulee pagaent and a free trip to Dublin. The other girls that win are never very pretty, so I stand a chance. And if not, I'll volunteer for something. I should feel right at home, there. I have a theory that each country turns out a certain breed of people, and those people tend to fall under the same class of characteristics. And that's where the narrow stereotypes come from, but they're usually based on some truth. Some blonds are dumb, dumber than a sack of potatoes. And most Irish really like potatoes, that's just the way it goes. It's like certain nationalities think in the same ways, I don't get it, but that's just the way it seems to me.
Anyway, enough rambling! I've got to go! Oh, and the title is from Will & Grace. Of course.