Who Are You To Talk?!

Okay so I am extremely pissed right now so forgive me if I use fowl language or ramble in harsh sentences. Lately I have been cramped up in my hole of a room where I watch Netflix, eat junk food and stay up all night and then continue to sleep in all day. But tonight I felt that I should maybe interact with my family so I went outside in the backyard where they were having a camp fire. Now it should be known that its almost midnight and they are pretty drunk and they’re yelling and laughing and dancing around the fire. And they are playing their music so loud that I could probably hear it from across the town. Now my parents’ and their friends’ music ability is not the greatest and even worse when they’re wasted. So when I come out my mother starts to play a bongo drum thing and tries to but eventually fails to  keep in time with anything. So I just place my hand over the top of the drum and and just softly whisper “no”. But the story does not end there.

Sidenote: I pride myself in trying to accept everyone from all ages, ethnicities, and capabilities. But lets face the facts: there are just some people who have no rhythm and are not musically talented. And i know that many people will tell me that i’m a “total bitch” for saying that but i’m just being honest and there is no way in hell that i’m going to apologize for that aspect of my personality.

Anywho, my mother, after  putting down the drum, starts to go on a rant about how i preach one thing and completely do another. She says that i’m always ridiculing her for what she says… and I do because a lot of the things that my mom says are inappropriate and sometimes borderline racist, sexist, or otherwise insulting. Therefore, I need to make her aware of what she might be doing or saying. And so she goes on to say that I quote “you preach about equality but whenever I try to do something musically, you shut me down”. Now I know that I talk about accepting people for who they are and what they can do, and sometimes what they can do is not in the musical category. I never said anything about equality. Now I admit, what I said back to her probably wasn’t the best thing to say in my defence but I was angry and  sometimes when im annoyed word vomit happens. You know, like in that movie Mean Girls? I told her that she can express herself musically all she wants but that I just didn’t want to hear it. I regret saying that now but it doesn’t make me any less pissed about what she said.But then, the most annoying thing happens, her friend, Kendra jumps in and agrees with my mother and says that i look at her like a freak. It should be said that this woman is not in her right mind, on top of her heaps of mental disorders, she is connected with AISH (Assured Income for The Severely Handicapped) which should say enough about her personality. But not only that, for some reason, she never has any money because she spends it all on three useless things:

1. Drugs

2. Smokes and,

3. Her children, who are not themselves useless but take the money given to them by their mother and spend it on items one and two.

I’m not saying that this woman is a bad person but she has no right calling me out on looking at her like a freak when she is one. And I don’t know why she is even taking it as an insult, everyone is a freak in their own way. I’m a freak for Christ’s sake! okay now I’m just rambling about stupid things.After a few minutes I went back inside because I knew that they were drunk and there was no use of us arguing if she’s not going to remember it in the morning.

I know i’m not the best at withholding judgement and my ideas of acceptance could use a little work. But unlike my mother, atleast i have good intent. My mom just blurts out whatever come to mind without thinking about what she’s saying. I guess that’s what you call a person with no filter.

Moral of the story: I know that everyone is different and unique in their own way and i completely accept that, sometimes i just don’t have the energy to deal with my drunken mother trying to be musically talented. Let it be known that I love my mother in all her flaws no matter what and the previous page was only a rant to get my feelings out. I feel much better now and will continue to talk to my mom about what happened tomorrow.

I Don’t Deserve You

With all the posts about Father’s Day on all of my social media sites, its hard not to think about my dad. I think one of the earliest memories I have of my dad and me is when I was in grade two and there was some sort of sports day at my school and it was extremely hot outside. I remember that I had received a participation ribbon and being the naive seven year old that I was, I was so proud of it. And my father was similarly ecstatic as I was. I look back on it now, and just laugh at how pathetic I must have seemed, but my dad was just enjoying the fact that I was happy.

I remember another point in my memory where my father had actually bought his own place. Let it be known that my father had one of the hardest upbringings that i have ever heard of. To my knowledge, he was first arrested when he was 14 because his father was being less than friendly and so he hit him. And then my dad was living on his own in the city by the time he was 16. Over the course of his teenage years he had been in and out of juvie and jail. When he was 19, his first daughter was born and then through his twenties, he first went back to school to get his diploma and had a numerous amount of jobs. When he was 30, my mom had me and I think when I turned nine years old was around the same time by dad actually bought his first house by himself. And in that time in my life, I was seriously spoiled and if I had a time machine I would probably slap myself and tell her to stop being such a brat. Being that I was absolutely clueless to the fact that my dad was so excited about the house, when he asked me my opinion on the house, I simply said that the house was gross and small. I regret saying that to my dad to this day, but he has still loved me unconditionally.

This is why I don’t deserve him, everything that he works for and all that he makes…..he puts as much of it a he can to giving me everything that i need. My dad is not usually a sentimental person but its in his actions that I know in my heart that he loves me.

My father is one of the hardest working people I know and to know that I disappointed him would be absolutely crushing to me. My dad has taught me many things throughout my life but the three things that he absolutely stressed about was, No Cheating, No Stealing and No Lying. As long as I follow these rules, I know that I might mess up in life but, I know that I wont do wrong by my hero….. My Father.

Why Incomplete Dancer?

Most people might find find this pathetic and I kind of do too but I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out a name for this blog thing. I knew what I wanted to write about, just my everyday life and whatever and whoever was pissing me off that day. So, I had to pick something that kind of described me. first off, I have been dancing on and off since I was about eight years old. And I have gained a large amount of experience throughout these past years. And even though I know that I’m a better dancer than most people, I’m never gonna be part of the ABC which, if you are not dance educated is the American Ballet Company. I used to dream of being part of that company when I was a little girl but after watching many movies about it and seeing the way some women and men sacrifice their health for dancing, I shied away from it. I have had issues with self harm before I know that if I were to get in a high pressure situation with something that I loved on the line I could resort to going to extreme methods to get what I want. And I don’t want that kind of life. Even though I have chosen this life for myself and I know that I wouldn’t want to try and fit into the “perfect ballet body”, I know that I am always growing as a dancer and therefore, I could never call myself a complete dancer. Because as I have learned, there is always new moves, genres and ways of dancing and no one could ever know it all. That is why I chose the name, Incomplete Dancer, because I wear that title with pride. I am always eager to learn more about dancing no matter which style it is. I am forever growing, and proud of it

What The F**k Am I Doing?

Its summer vacation, other people are probably celebrating their freedom by going to parties, hanging out with their friends and actually having a life. Me, on the other hand, left this city as soon as school ended and is now spending her time drinking her weight in Iced Tea at my mother’s house and practically living like a vampire as the only time i go outside is to the store to get junk food.

Actually, that’s not even true, i make other people go get the munchies for me because I’m too much of an awkward person to talk to a stranger. Even if it is just a customer to cashier transaction. And now, from binge-watching too many episodes of Awkward, I’ve come up with the great idea to start a blog. And even that sounds stupid to me. Blog sounds like a word from the eighties like a walkman. But be that as it may, here I am, writing one. So lets see how I can screw this up.