Is it the weekend yet???

First off, I'd like to start off this post with one all encompassing statement that perfectly summarizes my state of mind at this very moment: Spirit day is the worst idea ever. EV-ER.
I mean, seriously, most of the bigger kids don't care and all it does is make the little ones hyper. I walked into the classroom this morning and some of the kids were standing on top of the tables screaming. I kid you not. Anyway, moving along.

I talked to my mom yesterday. Problems back home. Oy vey.

Celtics game was fun. I've come to the conclusion that I have a crush on Wally Szczerbiak (even though he was pretty awful last night) and that Paul Pierce rocks my world. That's the only thing you can say about a guy who shot a three pointer with 27 seconds left in the game to put the Celtics ahead by one, and consequently, secure the game for them. Yes, he rocks my world. It was a pretty good game. The seats were pretty tight and the company was great, so all in all, I conclude that a good time was had by all.

Last night, J told me not to be passive aggressive with him. Now, there might be a slight problem with that seeing as I've been passive aggressive for oh, the last 23 years. It's sorta become second nature to me so breaking away from that habit is going to be a challenge. I think there are quite a few reasons that I am the way I am. I mean, first off, I'm a girl and all girls are at least mildly passive aggressive. I think it's the estrogen or something. Secondly, the culture I was brought up in promotes passive aggressive behavior over outright aggressive behavior any day of the week. And thirdly, being passive aggressive is the best way to deal with my family considering, there's no way you're going to be able to yell over all those Filipino women. I've realized after living in a house with 5 of them (not including myself) that pouting works better. This isn't to say that I like the fact that I'm passive aggressive. In fact, it's one of my least favorite things about me. But I figure it's better than a lot of other things. Like being a complete psychopath. But that's just my humble opinion.

I was thinking last night about one of my past relationships. This particular relationship can be labeled in many different ways. Longest relationship ever. Most unhealthy relationship ever. Worst relationship ever. Stupidest boyfriend I ever had. (Okay, maybe that wasn't a label for the relationship per se.) It was strange that I was thinking about it since it's barely crossed my mind over the last 3 years. But I guess I was thinking about how fucked up human emotion can be and how suceptible we are to that stupid thing we call a heart. I mean, I look back on the relationship and I KNOW it was horrible. Not only was it midly codependent, it was also emotionally and physically abusive. If I had a dime for every time I was called a whore during that period of time...wow...I wouldn't have to work, that's for sure. But whatever. It's in the past and it's beside the point anyway. The point is, even though I realize how bad the relationship was and even though I look back on it now and shudder at how stupid I was, I know for a fact that while it was going on, I actually did love the bastard. I can't even remember why now. But I actually did. And it's very confusing. What the fuck was I thinking?? I guess the point was, I wasn't.

Yeah, this post was random. Lots of things on my mind I guess. Until next time...