Alright, so I was going to post up some B.S. post this week. But recent events delayed my post for this week, but is a good topic for me to bring up because this was one of the most over the top things that could ever happen to me. Fine, not really, but it sounds interesting, doesn't it?
Now if you noticed my title, you'll be asking, "Linda, *curious tone* why is your life ironic?" Well, person who is reading this, I will first name small little things that will make you say, that in no way makes it ironic, and then I shall name something big.
First, I'm pretty smart, at least smart enough to be someone, but life.. or moreso, I, have decided to waste my "talents" and become a deadbeat teenager. Though I am not proud to admit, at this moment of my life, that is exactly what I am. I could be a lot more better than this, and I know I could, but right now, it's pretty ironic that all of my teachers and adults that have met me say I'm intelligent, yet I have somehow ended the way I did. *I am at this moment repairing myself, and doing so-so. Not my top form, but good enough* But then there's the quote: It is not our ablilities that define us, but our choices. Which is true, and right now I'm not making the best choices. So that's being fixed.
Second, this is extremely minor, on my financial aid form, I somehow ended up convicted for a drug felony. ME. The most anti-(unprescribed) drug person there could ever be. Out of all people, it happened to me. Delaying the process of my getting my financial aid.
Third, out of the entire Phan family, it is my family that is the poorest. (we were rich, until my dad had me.. sucks for my dad. His life is ironic as well)
Finally, lastly, is the main point of this entry. My entire life, communication with my father was pretty much nonexistent. The one day my father decideded to talk to me, I was extremely taken aback. Our conversation consisted of him telling me that no matter what I do, he'll forgive me, and that if I did something wrong, I need to tell him so he can protect me. And because I am his daughter he will never throw me out. So I'm like geez, what's going on. And he tells me something personal, and how he's having some trouble. And somehow, I got involved and he wanted me to tell the truth about anything. So I'm completely confused, because he was being extremely vague. I was unsure about what he meant about me doing something wrong. And he said that I have been receiving calls from people and that I have been calling them back, probably conspiring against him and whatnot. So I'm like, I have no idea what you're talking about. And we go into this whole deep thing. And I think the whole thing is dropped. The next day, he asks me again, you need to tell me the truth. I'm like I am telling the truth and at this point I get frustrated because he's basically accusing me of conspiring against him. We get mad at each other and the argument ends up with me slamming my door. Finally, today, he tells me what people have been telling him about me and that I am apparently an effing prostitute. um... I'm the least likely person to become a prostitute because I see it as demoralizing. Apparently, my admittance of having money problems to him two days before, backed up this theory that perhaps I was selling sex. I was almost going to laugh. I mean, I was literally going to burst, because this is serious irony. I didn't know what to say, I was like, do you actually believe this. He said, I don't want to, but I need you to tell me the truth, which basically meant he did believe it. I was almost going to yell at him, but I decided not to and tell him that you knwo what, I'm not that kind of person and I talked about self-respect and dignity and whatnot. But I was honestly taken aback that my dad would think that I was able to sell myself like that. It ended with me promising to tell him EVERYWHERE I go, which doesn't matter much to me, because I have nothing to hide. Oh, and also going through the entire phone bill, one number at a time, which ended up with three unknown numbers that were disconnected. So basically, my father's start of communication with his daughter of 18 years started with him accusing me of being a prostitute.
So there's my story of how my life is ironic. Watch, I'm going to end up finding my mother on my wedding day and she introduces me to my half brother and sister and she'll kill my "father" who is really my uncle or something. Ok, that isn't so much ironic as more of a soap opera. But seriously, are you tired of life playing games with you? What I named wasn't specifically a part of the game, but moreso of a tidbit. Imagine it on a larger scale.
So this entry, doesn't really have much of a question, but there's something for you to think about. How life loves to play with you. -_-' Because I know that they love playing with my life. And anyone else I know.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
