I'm so very confused.

Okay, so here's the thing.  I've always been kind of proud of my sense of self.  There's really nothing that vexes me more than pretense in all forms.  I have no respect for people who put up false fronts in order to impress others. Inconsistency usually comes across to me as a sign of weakness and insecurity, and I don't think randomly changing for people is a mature way to deal with a low self-esteem.  It's easy to put labels on these things to make it sound better--'finding' yourself, becoming a better person, changing in order to deserve someone, things like that.  Personally, I know everyone's got a soul.  There's something in everyone that's unique, and personality comes naturally.  I've never seen any merit in trying to mask self for any reason.  You can't please everyone.  Some people will like you, some won't... and I know that's true for me.  I'm through pretending, and I've estranged friends because of it.  I don't mean that to sound bitchy... I just don't want to pretend to be happy when I'm not, to like things I don't like, and I'm not about to change for anyone. 
I tend to choose friends who are the same way.  Most of my closest friends are completely unabashed by individuality, and I notice and take that into account.  If I don't love them for who they really are, I'm convinced that the feeling isn't real... and I don't waste my time on superficiality because it's a surefire way to get hurt.  Same goes for me--if I don't think someone knows me well enough, I don't buy that he or she loves me at all.  Basically, if I feel like I'm hiding some aspect of myself to avoid unpleasant confrontation, I'm not being honest and whomever I'm concealing myself from is getting the raw end of the deal.

Now for the thing that's really getting to me--I think I'm being inconsistent.  Especially in the past few years I've been extremely vocal concerning my values, and I've cared very little about what people disapprove of.  For instance:
Modesty.  No premarital sex.  No premarital... anything.  No drugs.  No smoking.  No disappointing the better half of my family.  Setting a good example for my younger siblings.  Christianity and everything that goes along with it.
Now, I'm not as sure as I was.  As it stands now... I'm still a christian, just not the Jesus freak I was for the last couple years of high school.  And as far as the rest of my supposedly concrete values go, I don't know how far I'm willing to take them.  Obviously I've been through the smoking thing.  I've done things that ordinarily I would have regretted, but I still don't, mostly because there's no way I can change the past.  I still want to set a good example especially for my sisters, but in my mind I'm still lying to them... I've made mistakes, some of which they know about and some of which they don't, and I'm not sure if they have an accurate image of who I am.  They know I'm not perfect, and lord knows they hear about it whenever I break a rule.  But I think of Leah, specifically, my 16-year-old sister who idolizes me more than anyone thinks she should.  She's convinced that I'm a genius... she has a binder plastered with photos of me.  I'm flattered of course, and touched that she's missed me so much for the past three years, but I'm not sure she knows why.  Granted, we've been through a lot... death in the family, having to rely on each other when Sid was never around, the remarriage, the fighting and rockiness afterwards.  We're really the last true remnant of the family we once had.  The problem is that these experiences have changed me more drastically than they've changed her, and while I know we'll always be tight I don't think I'm moving in a good direction as far as positive influence is concerned.

Another thing that bothers me is the influence my mother has had on me.  Ever since my father died, I've grown apart from her.  When I was about 9 years old I stopped letting her touch me, and even now if she tries to make physical contact I flinch involuntarily.  I can't rely on her for emotional support.  We're not even friends.  Whenever we talk, we argue.  She doesn't trust me as far as she can kick me, and I have to admit the feeling is mutual.  I can't tell her anything because I know she'll repeat it to my entire family, her mother, her friends, her psychotic husband, etc... she'll take information from any source, no matter how unreliable, and relay it to people like it's gospel truth.  She watches me like a hawk, just waiting for me to step out of line so she can make life harder for me.  Maybe she thinks she's doing what's best and teaching me a lesson, but I only see malicious intent (accompanied by corruption from my half-soulless stepfamily).
My point is this--Sid sees me as the rebel of the family, the trouble child who will stop at nothing and has no regard for moral values.  She pesters me constantly about the religion thing, dropping random crap into conversation ("well, if you believed in God...") ...stuff like that.  She's convinced that I'm completely immoral.  I sneak out of the house a few times, or I'm late for curfew, and she assumes I'm out banging some guy and calls me a whore.  It doesn't matter what I say to her--she always comes back with a "well, I don't believe anything you say because you lost my trust a long time ago."  Ergo... whatever I say, she believes the opposite, regardless of the situation.  So what I'm driving at is that she's pushing me in the wrong direction.  Seems like a pathetic excuse, but I really feel like I have to blame her.  It's almost like I have to live up to her image of me.  What can it hurt?  She doesn't trust me anyway, so what's the point of trying to earn any trust back?

Sick, I know.  And not consistent with the strong personality I thought I had.  But maybe I don't.

I thought I had core values, but I don't know anymore if I've been lying to myself.  Human nature is malevolent, and I'm only human.  Basically, my values as of now are as follows:

I hold individuality in high regard.
I want to set a good example but I don't think I'm capable of it.
I'm a Christian, as in I believe in Jesus, but I'm not acting like it and I know it.
I'm strongly turned off to religion, mainly because of the narrow-minded aggressiveness I see in my family all the time.  Spend a day in my house and Christianity will look like hell on earth.
I'll try almost anything once, I don't care anymore how bad it is.  If I refuse to do anything, it's because of legitimate practical fears.  Sex falls into this category.
I'm not afraid of hatred anymore.  There are some people I just can't love.
As far as love itself goes, I believe it's the most powerful abstraction known to humanity.  I know it's real in all forms (superficial crushes and material-based affinity are irrelevant).  Love in its purest form really is the cure for all ills, but it's also capable of inflicting the more pain than anything else we know.  It's what keeps me alive and it's what tears me apart.

On a slightly different note... something that's been annoying me recently:

Don't make assumptions.  I am SO sick of being labeled, sick of people taking some aspect of my persona and building it into something it's not.  Christianity, for instance.  I'm cool with admitting I'm a Christian, but not cool with being affiliated with the church or with other people of a similar religious persuasion.  Take every stereotype you can think of and shove it up your ass... being a Christian doesn't mean I'm floating about on a cloud of hope and salvation.  It means I have faith in an abstraction and I know there's truth out there.  I doubt a lot... faith without doubt is dead.  I struggle with the same problems as everyone else, and I've questioned the whole deal, abandoned it, come back to it.  No, believing in Jesus hasn't made my life good.  The Bible doesn't make me happy.  Religion is manmade, and I have a very dim view of human nature.  Go ahead and question what I believe in, that's fine--just don't judge me, don't assume anything, don't dismiss me.  I'll talk about it, sure, but if you haven't heard my end of the deal, don't assume you know what I'm talking about.

Going back:

I don't know what to do.  I feel strongly that I should live in Connecticut next year, for the sake of my sisters and because I want to be closer to the people who have the strongest impact on my life. 
In Grove City, my dwindling values don't matter because there's no opportunity for me to compromise my principles.  In CT, opportunity will present itself... and I don't know if that's good or bad.

I just lost interest in writing, so I'll stop now.  I'll probably rant more later.

And Clara, if you read this.. for the love of Pete DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU LIVE WITH.

Break.

Hokay, clearly didn't post anything during break, so I've decided to summarize my activities day-to-day.

Friday:  Travel.  I went to classes and left shortly after, and my flight left Pittsburgh in the early evening (after a fairly exciting security breach).  I got to JFK on time, but they decided to board the Hartford flight a half hour early and I missed it.  It was the last one out until morning, so I got on standby for a Boston flight and, by some miracle, secured the last seat.  So I arrived at Logan at about midnight, and Justin decided to be frickin awesome and drive up to get me.  So after a long drive, several cigarette breaks, burgers, and a parking lot dance party, we got back to the Hebron/Columbia area at about 5 AM. 

Saturday: Slept in, chilled at Eastern all day.  Well, until dinner-ish.  After all that, Justin and I attempted, and failed, to get piercings.  We went shopping instead, with limited success due to the hour (everything was closing).  So we opted for VIP so we could laugh at sex toys and the fat people who buy them.

Sunday: Church, including breakfast with the sunday school crew (including my Steve)... then out with Justin.  We had no success in our statewide quest for IHOP, so we settled for Denny's, which was cool too.  Then... emo clothes shopping.  Ever walked into a Goodwill with someone dressed exclusively in Abercrombie?

Monday: Don't remember doing anything important.

Tuesday: Piercings!  I went (with Justin) to the place across from UConn, Body Language.  I got the tongue done first, and it wasn't too painful but felt really weird, as would stand to reason.  Navel was next... the needle probably took a full 2.5 seconds to go through my skin (apparently I'm tough) but it didn't really hurt.  Then Justin got his done, and it was fun because I've never actually watched a friend get pierced before (I'm always the victim).  After that we hit up Stop & Shop for some non-iodized sea salt, then 7-11 for some kind of slushie thing to numb my tongue.  All in all a great day... I'm quite happy with my piercings.

Wednesday: Coffee with the Justin, shopping by myself because I'm a loser.  Also chilled with Catie for awhile and ranted and raved about my piercings, yay.

Thursday: Went to UConn with Justin in the morning and managed to get coffee stuck in my teeth... don't ask.  It's possible, just take my word for it.  We went shopping and stuff.  The usual.  I watched some Star Wars with Ethan, then took Clara out for the evening--haircuts, makeup shopping, then the East Brook Mall.  We ended the night at KFC, and some creepy Puerto Rican dude kept checking me out... then he followed us out of the parking lot, which kind of freaked us out.  It snowed a lot that day.

Friday: Sid's mother came to visit.  She thinks the piercings are weird, which is understandable.  We went to the cantata that night and I got to see my Steve again, also Gavin.  And Steve's posse (Mike, Nathan, Kevin, etc.).

Saturday: Kind of hid in Clara's room most of the day, slept a lot.  That evening Justin and I went to New Haven in search of a hookah bar.  After driving around in circles for awhile, we found the place with much help from Clara.  Of course, after all that we called her again to find the nearest Cracker Barrel.  We ate there (in Milford) and then came back to New Haven to check the place out--Mediterranea, 140 Orange Ave (left off exit 3 off 91).  I highly recommend it--it is the coolest place EVER.
It's a little place, set up kind of cafe style but with this awesome back room--benches against the walls, squishy ottomans, tons of pillows.  Basically it's just a room where people can relax and smoke hookah.  The smell is incredible, lighting is awesome (disco/strobe), and... I dunno, it was just a really chill place.  We ordered our hookah, strawberry to start off with (not a hardcore flavor).  It was amazing.  Best taste ever, good aftertaste even.  I think that night was the only time I've had secondhand smoke blown directly in my face and actually enjoyed it.  We killed the strawberry in about 45 minutes and ordered a refill, melon this time.  It was a lot more intense.  After that, they kind of kicked us out because the place was starting to fill up and they needed the space and hookah.  So we left for awhile and checked out the Penthouse Boutique (not as exciting as the Manchester VIP).  We came back and met Justin's friend Shea and her date Matt at Mediterranea, and killed two more hookahs among the four of us.  Melon again, also mint (which is the most intense flavor, or so they say).  It wasn't quite as cool the second time around, considering the four of us were crammed on a bench and there wasn't really room to stretch out and relax.  Plus, everyone but me was an EMT and therefore talked about EMT stuff, which means I just smoked a lot and faded into the woodwork.  It wasn't that bad, though.  They're all cool people, at least, and the hookah kind of makes everything better.  As I recall, we tried to shotgun across four people, but that failed miserably--success from me to Justin, but then Shea laughed so it didn't get any farther (curse laughter!).  Anyway... I got home at about 3 AM, and by some miracle didn't get caught.

Sunday: Miserable.  I don't even want to talk about it.

Today... I had to wake up at about 4:30 to make a 6:30 flight out of Bradley.  I almost missed it, which would have sucked... the line for security was horrendously long and I ended up waiting in it for over half an hour. 
Funny thing though--At curbside in Hartford I ran into this kid Brandon, a guy from my brother hall at GCC who lives in MA.  We were on all the same flights, which was cool because I've never really talked to him (weird considering we live kind of close together, both went to Soulfest, etc.).... we chilled at JFK and sat togetherish on the flight into Pittsburgh, then Theresa's dad brought the three of us back to Grove City.

Basically, break was great.  Special thanks to Justin, the boy crazy enough to drive to Logan in the middle of the night, Catie, Steve, Clara, Ethan.... and whoever else I spent a significant amount of time with.

Dis Week

Oog.  So it's 6:30ish (AM) and I just finished writing an 8-pager on Booker T. Washington.

One paper down, most of a week of hell to go.

So... today's Tuesday.  Which means my paper is due and I have an educational op-ed column due tomorrow.  Must write it.
Wednesday: Classes, op-ed due.
Thursday: Medical Anthropology test.
Friday: Found Ed test... it'll be a killer.

Buuuut I get to go home on Friday afternoon.  Well, night.  Well... it'll be within an hour of Saturday by the time I'm in Hartford.

Over break I plan on doing fun things.  Not to mention getting more piercings.  More and more and more and more.  Can't get enough.  Ha.  HA.

I'm kind of tired.

They're coming to take me away, ha ha, they're coming to take me away, ho ho, hee hee, ha ha, to the funny farm where life is beautiful all the time and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats and they're coming to take me AWAY ha ha to the happy home with trees and flowers and chirping birds and basket weavers who sit and smile and twiddle their thumbs and toes and they're coming to take me AWAY HA HA!

Currently Listening Plans By Death Cab for Cutie see related

Okay, so I've hit a wall. 

I'm flunking out of school, so my options are becoming steadily more limited.  The choices are as follows:

1.  I can try my best to stay in school.  In all probablility, I'll be kicked out of Grove City by the end of the year.  That means my chances of getting into other schools is slim--there's absolutely no hope of getting into Hofstra again, and my other option is CCSU.  We'll see how that works out.. but even state schools are getting more selective, so the outlook isn't great.

2.  I can quit school.  I'll need to get a better job, which is doable as far as I know... but that means I'll probably be doing that for the rest of my life.  In any case, I'll need my own place, which means I need to find someone to split rent with.  I don't know where my friends stand in that respect.

3.  I can take a year off.  That means I need a job and an apartment, not to mention a car.  The problem with that is the difficulty of going back to school after living outside of that whole scene for a year.

4.  I can swallow my pride and go to MCC or something.  That is my LAST resort, mainly because I graduated from prep school and it seems a bit below my station (sorry if I offend anyone).  If I'd graduated from Lyman this option would have been acceptable, but as it is... I don't know if I could do it.

Basically... I don't know what to do.  I've completely screwed myself over.  So there's absolutely nothing going for me right now.  And I think for the first time that's not exaggeration.
I know I'm smarter than this, and I don't want to flunk out of school.  And at any rate, I've got the Robertson name to protect, not to mention several people who really believe in me--and I'm going to let them down.  I'm on my way to becoming the one person that my family is most ashamed of.  Like the one they refuse to talk about when relatives ask, the one that doesn't get her name in the Christmas cards, the one they'd rather forget about.  My mother has spent a ton of money sending me to prep school and a smaller but still considerable amount of money to send me to a great college.  If screw my life now, it'll all be a huge waste... but I don't see how I can keep on keepin' on.

Tat.

So.  Featured above is my initial sketch for that tattoo I'm getting this summer.  That's just a really rough pencil drawing, and it's going to eventually get prettier when I redefine most of the lines, some in different places, and shade a bit.  I wrote in "Aeternitas" last-minute, and I have a really cool-lookin writing style planned for that one.  But this is the general layout, and I basically want to know what y'all think of it. 
It's actually about three inches tall, most likely going on my lower back... probably on the right, but that's up for modification as well. 
I'm going for all black with this one.  The ribbon's pretty much solid black, the rest is shaded appropriately.
In terms of rationalizing this thing--it's mostly commemorative, for my daddy (who died ten years ago).  Aeternitas is Latin for eternity.  The rose is traditionally a sort of... in memoriam symbol, as well as a love/passion/purity motif.  So I like it, and it means a lot to me.
Questions?  Comments?  Suggestions?  I eagerly anticipate your input.