Bad news bears

I got my grades back form astronomy. B minus/ B plus. Not great. This bummed me out. What made it worse is that my astro lab grade has to be considered as well. Cool. Not. I hate lab.

On my way back from Northampton, Mom called me telling me that my uncle is very sick. His wife, Eva, has a reoccurring cancer that was first found in her breast. A piece has traveled to her brain. I remember in high school we learned all the terms about this, and who would have thought, I forgot it all. No scientific term can account for emotional turmoil.

It gets worse. My mother's cousin, Beata, the one who I worked for last summer and the one who connected me with Croatia, has a tumor on her ovaries, a lump in her breast and is facing a possible hysterectomy.

I never really had much of a family. I remember always being jealous of people and their big families and their big holiday parties. Just being able to have that group and community feeling, that bond over blood. I don't know my cousins; they live in Poland. We are strangers. The family I have here is so overextended that it's almost comical, but we strive and keep some sort of bond together. Family is family, and we all hate each other. We don't get along. And yet, I'm heartbroken. We're hurting a lot.

I called Beata and wanted to tell her that because I'm not doing anything this summer, I'd watch her two youngest kids whenever she needed some time off/time to recover. She said she would call me back; she was in her appointment.

I had a dream about my uncle. He's a jerk. We got into a fight and he stormed off. My mother believes in dreams.


I dressed up kinda cute. Did my hair, did my makeup, to no avail. I feel stupid even trying.

I hate asking for comfort because I hate coming off as weak, but for once I'd like to not worry about anything. For once I just want to put my head down knowing someone is there. I just want to be weak, just once. I hate being strong for everyone. I wish I could cry in front of someone and be ok with it. I wish I could feel human and not feel imperfect at the same time.

Fuck it. I'm just going to bed. Blogging about shit is not going to help me. Tomorrow I can be productive. Fuck everything though, the universe is out of whack. Fuck people too. Whatever, I'll call Beata again tomorrow.

Fuck makeup. It gets everywhere when you cry.